"Thank you for the kindness, but I'll pass."
"...Huh?"
Diana's face twisted in confusion, as if she'd never imagined I'd turn her down.
"Really? It's hot soup I just finished boiling."
It sure looked like it. Steam was rising vigorously from the soup in the shallow wooden bowl, defying the chill night air.
One sip, and it'd probably wash away every ache in my body, with its thick texture and hefty chunks of meat making my mouth water just thinking about it.
Grrrrumble...
My stomach let out another scream. I wished it'd just shut up for a bit.
But my gut had its own complaints. What exactly have you eaten properly so far? Sleep poison-laced soup? A few crumbs of bread?
Look at your body. How do you expect to fuel those massive muscles on scraps like that?
Hunger bred fatigue, and fatigue dulled judgment.
That's how I'd made the idiotic choice to bunk down with those beggars.
And I'd burned a ton of energy there. I still hadn't recovered from the labyrinth ordeals either. By morning, I probably wouldn't even have the strength to stand.
One foolish decision had snowballed into this mess.
I couldn't repeat another dumb mistake.
Suppose I took that soup.
What if hunger overrode my senses again, I yanked off my helmet, and dove in face-first like a dog? Diana would see my bare face.
Images flashed: Kakchi, turned slave, and the nun who'd ascended to heaven.
That woman had lost her mind at the sight of my face and spiked the soup with sleep poison to pounce.
Of course, Diana might see my face and feel nothing at all.
She could be offering this out of pure, 100% goodwill.
I might just be spiraling into paranoia, dismissing genuine kindness.
'But damn it, what am I supposed to do?'
I'd already stained my hands with blood in a similar situation.
I didn't want to repeat the same choice.
"I'll gratefully accept the thought behind the warm soup."
"Hmm... is that so?"
"Yes."
Had she heard my stomach growl? She stared blankly at my gut for a moment before whipping her head away, speaking in an awkwardly theatrical tone.
"...Oh. Well, then this piping hot soup I just made will end up as food waste, I guess~ Whatever shall I do with it...? Maybe if I leave it out, a stray cat will come eat it?"
Clink.
Diana crouched for a second, carefully setting the bowl of soup and utensils on the alley floor.
"...What are you doing?"
"Stray cats come around here sometimes. Giving a bowl of warm soup to cats with nowhere else to go—it's one of my little hobbies."
'Stray cats use utensils too?'
Diana said it all so casually as she turned on her heel.
"Maybe by tomorrow, a cat will have polished it off and wandered away~"
Clack. Clack.
I watched her retreating figure, the sound of her heels fading away.
What was this? A new pattern I'd never seen before. But I could guess her plan.
That soup was bait, like a rat trap. One sip from a starving rat, and it was game over.
Trapped rat: destined for 40-gold slavery!
Did she think I'd fall for it? No way in hell.
Grrrrumble...
'...'
But people set traps because rats always take the bait eventually.
Rats know traps are dangerous.
Yet hunger wins out—they swallow hard at the sight of cheese, and reach for it anyway.
"What a ruthless scheme..."
I backed away from the soup. No food at all would be one thing, but having it right there was torture.
I wedged myself into the dead-end corner of the alley and tried to settle in for sleep again.
But sleep wouldn't come. My mind was wide awake from the brief distraction.
'Smells insane.'
And the soup's aroma was brutally potent.
Even at max distance, the nutty, buttery, faintly sweet scent invaded my nostrils mercilessly.
I'd seen chunks of veggies and meat in it earlier. What must it taste like? Delicious, no doubt.
Grrrrumble...
Once I acknowledged the hunger, my stomach went full riot mode. I get it. I'm hungry too.
Slurp.
Saliva kept pooling. I forced my eyes shut and pinched my nose. Tried everything to ignore it, but no dice.
"Ah!"
A spark hit me—I yanked the antidote the armored knight had given me from my bag.
I'd chugged it like water, so only a few drops remained.
'...One spoonful of this should neutralize plenty, right?'
The thought flashed by. I shook it off, but the more I mulled it, the more plausible it seemed.
Impulsive, sure, but doable. I'd experienced the antidote's power firsthand.
Soup reeking of sour sleep poison, and I'd detoxed in minutes, wide awake.
'No. Think straight. Waiting a bit costs nothing.'
I held my breath, letting time pass.
Sleep evaded me; I stared into the night.
The pitch-black sky began to take on a blue hue.
As dawn approached, I'd been glaring at that soup the whole time.
Figured she'd given up and gone to bed by now—I crept toward it.
The soup, which had steamed hot through the labyrinth city's night, now sat cold and disappointing.
I poked the surface with the spoon; thick globs floated up.
Sniff sniff. No sour sleep poison tang—just rich buttery notes.
I glanced around warily and stealthily removed my helmet.
Cautiously, I touched just the tip of my tongue to it.
The chilled soup made my tongue twitch.
'...Safe.'
No time to savor—I scooped a quick mouthful, then pressed the antidote vial to my lips.
Ready to chug if drowsiness hit.
I waited, vial poised, unsure when sleep might strike.
Ten minutes passed. No drowsiness, no tingling weirdness.
Confirmed safe, I scooped a full spoonful and took another sip.
Even cold, the base flavor exceeded expectations.
Not the watery, bland, sour slop in my memories.
Rich, chunky, made with care for the eater.
Cold from the night breeze, yet it warmed my heart more than soup by a campfire ever could.
The more I ate, the blurrier my vision got.
Poison? No—my mind knew this was no toxin.
I swallowed rising tears and kept drinking. Drained the bowl, then took in my surroundings.
This was where the beggars had crashed yesterday. Their panic-scattered junk littered the alley.
Amid the mess, the standout: bowls. Identical to this one, exactly matching their numbers.
– Stray cats come around here sometimes. Giving a bowl of warm soup to cats with nowhere else to go—it's one of my little hobbies.
"Ah..."
Then it hit me—Diana's true intent.
A warm bowl for cats with no way out.
I stood lost in thought, then slowly donned my helmet.
And started cleaning the beggars' mess.
Gathered rags, stacked the scattered bowls. Seven in total, piled like a tower.
"Cozy Winter Night... Cozy Winter Night..."
Out of the alley, I eyed the sign on the adjacent wooden building.
[Cozy Winter Night Inn]
Unfamiliar script, yet I read it effortlessly. I cautiously pushed open the inn door.
"Welcome—oh?"
She'd been wiping tables, prepping for opening. Our eyes met.
"The soup was delicious. Thank you."
I bowed, expressing gratitude for her warmth. Diana beamed.
"No need to be so thankful. We're all struggling—we help each other out."
She said that, but I couldn't fully accept it.
Kindness turns to debt eventually. Get used to it, and you'd crumble someday.
"No. I'll pay for the soup. How much?"
"...Breakfast at our inn is three coppers."
I pulled three coppers from my bag, placing them on a nearby table with the beggars' bowls.
Clack. Clack.
Diana passed me, heels clicking toward the table.
"One. Two. Three. Yep, spot on."
"...Then I'll be off. Thanks again—it was great."
"Wait just a sec. Here's your change."
"Pardon?"
Exact payment—where's the change coming from?
I stared, baffled. Diana pointed at the bowls beside the coins, grinning.
"You did work I should've done myself, so I have to pay you for it. Here—your change, three coppers."
She tried handing back all three coins.
"I can't accept this kindness."
"It's not kindness—it's fair pay for labor. Take it. My arm's getting tired."
"..."
Her slender yet healthy, pale, beautiful arm caught my eye.
Couldn't exactly refuse now. I bowed slightly in thanks and pocketed the coins.
"I don't know your story, but if you need a place to stay, our inn's open to you."
"...Why go this far for me?"
The words slipped out.
Why this much? It defied common sense.
I recalled everyone I'd met in this world.
Minus the armored knight, they'd all stabbed me in the back.
Nearly raped over soup, nearly raped sleeping innocently beside someone. A backstab-happy world.
In a place like that, this level of kindness was hard to swallow.
Hell, I still didn't fully trust her.
Deep down, I suspected a sly serpent coiled behind that warm smile.
Our eyes met—or so it felt, despite my full-face helmet blocking any gaze.
"Hmm... Feels like you won't believe whatever I say right now?"
"Yes."
Diana nailed it, like she'd read my mind.
Yeah. Spot on. Paranoia-riddled me couldn't buy it wholesale.
"Hehe. Honest, aren't you? Well... my intent? ...Um..."
She crossed her arms, pondering with a troubled look.
"...Just because. Believe that?"
Just because.
No special reason. No strings. Just.
In this godforsaken world, just because—to beggars on the street, axe-wielding threats—she offered warm soup, even urged rest on someone settling a bill.
"...That's cool. Really."
Something I could never do, so I called it cool.
"...R-Really? Th-Thank you...?"
She blushed, embarrassed by her own words. I ventured carefully.
"I've only got four coppers left. Could you... extend credit, using them as collateral?"
Past inns had all refused.
Hell, if I were the owner, I wouldn't room a suspicious bloodied-helmet guy either.
"Of course. We don't usually, but you seem trustworthy. Pay back whenever."
Maybe because I'd come to pay for the soup. She nodded easier than expected.
"No need for collateral, either. Save the coppers for yourself. Big difference between broke and a little cash."
She was right. Starting capital changes everything.
Jingle.
She fished a key from her waist pouch.
"Second floor, room 201. Stay here from now on."
"...Thank you, Diana."
Diana smiled wordlessly.
She led me to the room.
Key in, door open: not huge, but fragrant and spotlessly tidy.
Thud!
No time to look around—strength drained from my limbs.
Why did it feel like coming home?
The tension filling my body melted away the moment I stepped in.
Well, yeah. I was exhausted.
"Grraaah..."
I let out a weird groan and passed out instantly.
My first restful sleep since arriving in this world.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙[Synchronization 100% complete.] [■■■ ■ is watching you.]