The Weight of CompassionThree days of dawn-to-dusk warfare had established a new normal.
I woke at sunrise. Worked exactly until sunset. Not a minute more.
Agatha seethed but couldn't do anything about it. The contract was clear, and I'd made sure everyone in the tavern knew about my "interpretation" of it. She couldn't punish me without looking like she was violating our agreement.
But she tried. Oh, how she tried.
She gave me the worst tasks. Scrubbing the grease trap. Cleaning the privy. Hauling barrels of ale from the cellar. Everything disgusting, heavy, or degrading.
I did them all with a smile.
Because I knew something she didn't—I was looking for more loopholes. And I was finding them.
"Employee is responsible for damages to property"—but there was no clause about what constituted "reasonable wear and tear."
"One day off per week assuming good behavior"—but "good behavior" was never defined.
I was building an arsenal.
But today? Today I didn't have to think about any of that.
Because today was my day off.
[System: Day Off Unlocked! Current Status: Free!]
[System: Recommendation: Don't do anything stupid!]
I ignored the System and walked out of the tavern into the morning sun, breathing free air for the first time in days.
The city felt different.
It took me a moment to place why. Then I saw them—the refugees.
They were everywhere. Huddled in doorways, camped in alleyways, clustered around the fountain in the town square. Men, women, children, all wearing the haunted look of people who'd lost everything.
"—heard the eastern border fell—"
"—demons, they say, or maybe the Valdris kingdom's army—"
"—three villages burned to the ground—"
Fragments of conversation drifted past as I walked. The war that had been rumor and distant politics was suddenly very, very real.
I'd known about the political tensions. The heroes I'd sent had been monopolized by various kingdoms, creating a power imbalance that was bound to explode eventually. But knowing about it intellectually and seeing the consequences were two different things.
A woman sat against a wall, bandages wrapped around her head, staring at nothing. A man missing his left arm was trying to comfort crying children. An elderly couple shared a single blanket, both of them shivering despite the mild weather.
I kept walking, trying not to look too closely.
Not my problem. I have enough problems.
[System: Current Karma: -10000000000000000000000013]
See? I have 10 septillion problems. I don't need more.
But I couldn't stop seeing them. The hollow eyes. The wounds. The desperation.
I found myself at the market—less crowded than usual, but still functioning. I bought a skewer of grilled meat with a copper from my carefully hoarded savings, ate it while wandering, and tried to enjoy my freedom.
That's when I heard the small voice.
"Please... can you spare anything?"
I looked down.
A girl, maybe eight years old, sat on the ground near a closed shop. She was thin—too thin—with dirt on her face and clothes that had probably been nice once but were now torn and stained. Next to her, wrapped in a ragged blanket, was an even smaller child. A sister, probably, no more than five.
The little one was shaking. Feverish, from the look of it.
"My sister is sick," the older girl said, her voice small but steady. "The healers want silver. I don't have silver. But if I could get some copper, maybe I could buy medicine, or food, or—" Her voice cracked. "Please."
I stared at her.
Walk away. This isn't your problem. You need that money. Twenty copper is ten days of wages. Almost a full silver. You can't afford to—
The little girl coughed. A wet, rattling sound that made something in my chest tighten uncomfortably.
Walk. Away.
But my feet weren't moving.
The older girl looked up at me with eyes that were trying so hard to be brave and failing. "Please," she whispered again.
I reached into my pouch.
Twenty copper. My entire savings from the hug economy and the scraps of tips Agatha had let me keep. Almost a full silver coin's worth.
It was nothing compared to my debt. A drop in the ocean.
But to these kids? It might be everything.
This is stupid. You need this money. You can't save everyone. There are hundreds of refugees. If you help one, where do you stop? This is—
My hand pulled out the coins before my brain could finish the thought.
"Here," I said, my voice coming out rougher than intended. "Take it. All of it."
The girl stared at the copper in her palm like I'd just handed her the sun.
"This is—this is too much! I can't—"
"Buy medicine. Buy food. Get your sister to a healer." I turned away before I could see her reaction. "And don't get scammed. Half the vendors in this city are thieves."
"Thank you!" Her voice cracked with emotion. "Thank you so much! May the gods bless you!"
I walked away quickly, shoving my hands in my pockets.
That was stupid. That was so stupid. You just gave away ten days of savings. For what? Two kids you'll never see again? You can't even help yourself, and you're trying to help—
[System: ...]
What?
[System: Analyzing action...]
[System: Act of genuine compassion detected.]
[System: No ulterior motive detected.]
[System: No expectation of reward detected.]
[System: First selfless act as human form confirmed.]
What are you talking about? I just—
[System: KARMA ADJUSTMENT INITIATED]
[System: +1000 Karma!]
[System: Current Karma: -9999999999999999999999013]
I stopped walking.
What.
[System: Significant good deed performed! Large karma reduction applied!]
[System: Note: The magnitude of karma gained is proportional to the sacrifice made relative to your current circumstances. Twenty copper was everything you had. You gave it freely. The universe has acknowledged this.]
I stood in the middle of the street, people flowing around me, trying to process what just happened.
One thousand karma.
From twenty copper.
That's... that's insane. That's...
I thought about all the schemes I'd been planning. All the loopholes I'd been finding. The endless grind of washing dishes and scraping by.
One act of genuine kindness had just done more for my karma than three days of "technically following the rules."
[System: Funny how that works, isn't it? ♪]
Shut up.
But I was smiling slightly despite myself.
Wait. Something felt... different.
I looked down at my hands. Flexed my fingers. They looked the same.
But something had changed.
I couldn't quite place what.
[System: Minor power restoration in progress. Current recovery: 0.001%]
Point zero zero one percent? That's basically nothing!
[System: That's 0.001% more than you had yesterday! Progress!]
I wanted to argue, but...
I did feel different. Slightly. Like a weight I hadn't even noticed was fractionally lighter.
Huh.
That evening, Agatha found me in my storage room.
"Hitomi."
I looked up from where I was lying on my bedroll, staring at the ceiling and thinking about karma mathematics.
"I need you to work tonight," she said. "Dinner shift. There's going to be a crowd—a guild party just came back from killing a lesser wyvern, and they're celebrating. I'll pay you extra. Two silver for the evening."
I sat up. Two silver was... a lot. More than I'd make in an entire month at my regular rate.
"Two silver?"
"Yes. And—" She hesitated. "—you can keep it. All of it. It won't go toward your debt."
I stared at her. "Why?"
"Because I need the help, and you're good at managing the adventurer crowd." Her expression was carefully neutral. "And because... I'm not completely unreasonable. Despite what you might think."
This is a trap. This has to be a trap.
But two silver...
"Fine," I said. "I'll do it."
The tavern was packed.
Adventurers filled every table, loud and boisterous, celebrating their victory over the wyvern. Someone had brought the creature's tooth as a trophy, and it was being passed around like a prize.
"Three ales for table four!"
"The wyvern steaks for table seven!"
"Did anyone order the—"
I ran between tables, carrying trays, dodging grabbing hands and drunk laughter. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the kind of energy that came from surviving something dangerous and living to brag about it.
The atmosphere was great tonight! Everyone seemed extra friendly and energetic. People kept waving me over, even when they didn't need refills.
The wyvern victory must have everyone in a good mood!
[System: ...You really don't notice, do you?]
Notice what?
[System: Nothing. Never mind.]
I delivered a tray of drinks to table nine, smiling at the friendly adventurers.
"Thanks, sweetheart," one of them said, voice slightly slurred. "You're looking particularly lovely tonight."
"Oh, thank you!" I said brightly. What a nice compliment! "You all seem to be having a great time!"
"We are now," another one said, and his friends laughed.
They must really love the wyvern steak!
I turned to leave.
A hand grabbed my wrist.
"Wait," the man said. He was young, maybe mid-twenties, with the build of a warrior and the flushed face of someone several drinks in. "Don't run off so fast. Stay and chat."
"I have other tables to serve," I said pleasantly, trying to pull my arm back gently. He probably doesn't realize he's holding me.
His grip tightened. "Just for a minute. Come on. We've been celebrating all night. We killed a wyvern! Don't we deserve a little attention from a pretty girl?"
Oh, they want to tell me about the fight! That's sweet! "I heard about the wyvern! That's very impressive—"
"How about a kiss?" He grinned, pulling me closer. "Just a little one. For luck."
I blinked. A kiss? That's an unusual cultural tradition. "Oh, um, that's a bit much, don't you think?"
"Oh, come on! Don't be like that! You do hugs, right? What's a kiss? I'll pay!" He fumbled in his pouch with his free hand. "How much? A silver?"
A silver just for a kiss? These adventurers really are generous! "I suppose... on the cheek? That seems reasonable for a silver."
"Deal!" He pulled me closer.
I leaned in, aiming for a quick peck on his cheek.
He turned his head at the last second.
His lips crashed into mine.
Wait—that's not—
His other hand came up, grabbing the back of my head, holding me in place. His mouth pressed harder, and I could taste the alcohol on his breath.
This isn't right. This wasn't the agreement. He's—
No.
Something in me snapped.
Not consciously. Not with thought or planning.
Pure reflex.
I grabbed his wrist—the one holding my head—and twisted.
He yelped.
I shifted my weight, used his own momentum against him, and pulled.
The world seemed to slow down.
The adventurer went up and over in a perfect arc.
Time resumed.
He slammed into the floor.
CRASH.
The wooden boards splintered under the impact. Cracks spider-webbed out from where he landed. Several planks actually broke, creating a small crater.
Silence.
Everyone in the tavern stared.
I stood there, breathing hard, confused. What just happened? Did I—how did I—
The adventurer groaned, rolling over. For a moment, I thought he'd stay down.
Then his face twisted with rage.
"You BITCH!" He staggered to his feet, swaying but upright. Blood trickled from his split lip. "You think you can—"
He lunged at me, hands reaching for my throat.
I stumbled backward, not fast enough, still too weak to—
CRACK.
The man flew sideways through the air.
No, not flew—was launched.
He crashed into a table, which exploded into splinters, and then kept going until he hit the wall with a sickening thud. He slumped down and didn't get up. His chest was caved in at an unnatural angle, ribs clearly shattered.
I turned.
Agatha stood where the man had been, one leg still raised from a flying kick, her expression absolutely murderous.
The entire tavern was frozen.
"Anyone else?" Agatha's voice was deadly quiet. She lowered her leg slowly, deliberately. "Anyone else want to put their hands on my staff without permission?"
Silence.
"No?" She turned to the man's companions, who were staring in shock at their friend's broken body. "Get him out of here. Take him to a healer if you want, but he's banned from this establishment. Permanently."
"You—you broke his ribs!" one of them sputtered. "You could've killed him!"
"He laid hands on my employee. He tried to assault her. Twice." Agatha's eyes were ice. "He's lucky all I broke were his ribs. Now GET. OUT."
The adventurers scrambled to grab their friend and drag him toward the door. The man was conscious but whimpering, barely able to breathe.
The tavern was still silent.
Agatha turned to face the room. "Let me be very clear. My staff are here to serve food and drinks. Nothing else. Anyone who can't respect that can find another tavern. Understood?"
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd.
"Good." Her voice softened slightly, returning to something closer to normal. "Now—drinks are half price for the next hour! Let's get back to celebrating that wyvern kill!"
The noise gradually resumed. Conversations started up again, though people kept glancing nervously at the broken wall where the adventurer had hit.
Agatha turned to me. Her expression shifted from terrifying to concerned. "Are you hurt?"
"I—no. I'm fine." I was still processing what just happened. "You just—your kick—"
"Come with me." She gestured toward the back room. "We need to talk."
This is it. She's going to yell at me for breaking the floor. And now there's a broken wall too. Property damage. It's in the contract. I'm going to owe even more—
We stepped into the small office behind the kitchen. Agatha closed the door.
Then she reached into a lockbox and pulled out two silver coins.
She held them out to me.
I stared at the money. "But I broke the floor—"
"He forced himself on you." Her voice was quiet. Hard. "You defended yourself. That's not property damage. The floor can be repaired." She paused. "The wall too."
"But—"
"Take the money, Hitomi."
I took the coins slowly. "You didn't have to... the kick..."
"Yes, I did." Her expression was stone. "Nobody touches my staff like that. Nobody."
There was something in her voice. Something old and bitter and final.
I looked at her more closely.
Agatha had always seemed hard. Calculating. Someone who'd exploit any weakness for profit.
But right now, standing in the dim light of the office, she looked... different. There was steel in her eyes, yes, but also something else. Something that spoke of old wounds and hard-learned lessons.
"Keep the silver," she said, turning away to organize papers that didn't need organizing. "And be careful. You're stronger than you were—I saw that flip. But there are always men who are stronger. Or drunker. Or meaner. Or who travel in groups."
"I will," I said quietly.
"Good." She didn't look at me. "Get some rest. You're off tomorrow anyway."
I left the office, clutching the two silver coins, and went to my storage room.
Then I looked at my hands.
Really looked at them.
I'd flipped a fully-grown man hard enough to break a wooden floor.
Me. Power Level 2.
Or... maybe not 2 anymore?
[System: Current Status Update!]
[System: Physical Strength: 1% of original (Very Low)]
[System: Magical Ability: 0% (None)]
[System: Spiritual Awareness: 0.01% (Negligible)]
[System: Overall Power Level: 2.8]
[System: You've gone from "pathetic" to "slightly less pathetic!" Congratulations! ♪]
2.8.
It was still terrible. Still absurdly weak compared to what I used to be.
But it was more.
I thought about the refugee children. The twenty copper. The karma adjustment.
One good deed. One genuine act of kindness.
And it had given me back a tiny fraction of my power.
If one good deed gave me this much...
I did the math. Or tried to. The numbers were astronomical.
At this rate, if every good deed gave me similar karma returns, I'd need... thousands of good deeds to even make a dent in my negative karma.
But it was possible.
It was actually, genuinely possible.
I'd spent three days fighting Agatha over technicalities and contract loopholes. And yes, I'd gained ten karma for my trouble.
But twenty copper to a sick child? One thousand karma.
The ratio wasn't even close.
[System: It's almost like the universe rewards genuine compassion more than clever exploitation! Who knew? ♪]
I lay down on my bedroll, staring at the ceiling, the two silver coins clutched in my hand.
My body felt different now. Stronger. Not strong, but... less fragile.
And my mind was racing with possibilities.
I'd been so focused on finding loopholes, on gaming the system, on being clever.
But maybe...
Maybe that wasn't the fastest way out of this mess.
Maybe the answer wasn't to outsmart karma.
Maybe it was to actually earn it.
One good deed at a time.
I looked at the two silver coins.
Then at the closed door, beyond which hundreds of refugees were probably still huddled in the cold.
Two silver could buy a lot of medicine. A lot of food. A lot of blankets.
It could also go toward my debt.
...I'm going to regret this, aren't I?
[System: Probably! But it'll be interesting to watch!]
I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.
Tomorrow was my second day off.
And I had some shopping to do.