CH 23
The wooden boards are also stacked in large quantities on the ground, clearly indicating that there is not enough storage space.
There are no liquor or other luxury items on the floor, nor are there any decorative plants, as is the case today.
The only thing that shows its presence is a three-seater sofa at the front of the room.
To be honest, I was expecting an uncomfortable space like the president’s office, where I would naturally feel nervous, so I thought this would be more like my usual workplace, where I would be able to talk calmly.
And…the Guild Master standing next to the table is also very different from my selfish imagination.
I expected a muscular, strong-looking macho man to appear, but instead, a rather thin, elderly man stood by the table.
I wonder if he is around 60 years old. His hair color, which would have originally been blonde, has been heavily eroded to white, making him look exactly like my father would if his hair color were black.
Well, looking at the townspeople, hunters, and clerks, it is obvious that they have more distinct eyes, noses, and chiseled features than Japanese people, so this man with his still fluffy hair is much more handsome than my father.
(People in this town have brownish skin, and they look more like those in the Middle East. But their hair and eye colors are seemingly too full of individuality.)
While I was thinking about this, the man in front of me called out to me.
“I’m sorry to call you all the way out here. My name is Jagov, and I am the Guild Master of the Hunter Guild in Bezart.”
He says so and holds out his left hand to me, so this is such a custom in this world.
Or rather, I followed, thinking that a handshake on the left is common knowledge.
“Of course, I don’t mind. My name is Loki.”
We shake hands and sit down on the sofa next to each other, and before I know it, the older lady who just showed me around seems to have prepared drinks.
I guessed it would be tea, judging from the smell.
I was a coffee and green tea person, so I had no idea what kind of tea it was, but I had just eaten meat, so anything I could drink would be appreciated.
As I picked up the cup and sipped it, Jagov-san speaks.
“Just to make sure, do you understand my words? Zink and the others seemed to be able to speak it, so I don’t think it’s a problem.”
“Yes, that’s fine.”
“That’s good to know. By the way, I don’t think Loki is from this country.”
My face naturally turned from the cup in my hand to Jagov-san, and at that moment I knew it was a bad idea.
His face was smiling, and he didn’t seem to be in a coercive mood, taking advantage of his position as a Guild Master.
On the contrary, I feel that he is quite polite to me, a 13-year-old kid, in our interactions so far…
This gaze is not good. Intuitively, I have a bad feeling about this.
This gaze reminds me of the managing director of the company I used to work for.
He was like an old man to the younger employees, always showing up at the branch office with a souvenir in his hand, having a cup of tea and some light chit-chat with the employees there, and then leaving.
He would appear with a casual “Hey, how are you doing?” and always be asked, “What is the executive director doing here after all?” He was a man of mystery.
He was always smiling and never showed any sign of the dignity of being an executive. On the contrary, everyone would be more tense if a department manager from the head office came to inspect.
There are no liquor or other luxury items on the floor, nor are there any decorative plants, as is the case today.
The only thing that shows its presence is a three-seater sofa at the front of the room.
To be honest, I was expecting an uncomfortable space like the president’s office, where I would naturally feel nervous, so I thought this would be more like my usual workplace, where I would be able to talk calmly.
And…the Guild Master standing next to the table is also very different from my selfish imagination.
I expected a muscular, strong-looking macho man to appear, but instead, a rather thin, elderly man stood by the table.
I wonder if he is around 60 years old. His hair color, which would have originally been blonde, has been heavily eroded to white, making him look exactly like my father would if his hair color were black.
Well, looking at the townspeople, hunters, and clerks, it is obvious that they have more distinct eyes, noses, and chiseled features than Japanese people, so this man with his still fluffy hair is much more handsome than my father.
(People in this town have brownish skin, and they look more like those in the Middle East. But their hair and eye colors are seemingly too full of individuality.)
While I was thinking about this, the man in front of me called out to me.
“I’m sorry to call you all the way out here. My name is Jagov, and I am the Guild Master of the Hunter Guild in Bezart.”
He says so and holds out his left hand to me, so this is such a custom in this world.
Or rather, I followed, thinking that a handshake on the left is common knowledge.
“Of course, I don’t mind. My name is Loki.”
We shake hands and sit down on the sofa next to each other, and before I know it, the older lady who just showed me around seems to have prepared drinks.
I guessed it would be tea, judging from the smell.
I was a coffee and green tea person, so I had no idea what kind of tea it was, but I had just eaten meat, so anything I could drink would be appreciated.
As I picked up the cup and sipped it, Jagov-san speaks.
“Just to make sure, do you understand my words? Zink and the others seemed to be able to speak it, so I don’t think it’s a problem.”
“Yes, that’s fine.”
“That’s good to know. By the way, I don’t think Loki is from this country.”
My face naturally turned from the cup in my hand to Jagov-san, and at that moment I knew it was a bad idea.
His face was smiling, and he didn’t seem to be in a coercive mood, taking advantage of his position as a Guild Master.
On the contrary, I feel that he is quite polite to me, a 13-year-old kid, in our interactions so far…
This gaze is not good. Intuitively, I have a bad feeling about this.
This gaze reminds me of the managing director of the company I used to work for.
He was like an old man to the younger employees, always showing up at the branch office with a souvenir in his hand, having a cup of tea and some light chit-chat with the employees there, and then leaving.
He would appear with a casual “Hey, how are you doing?” and always be asked, “What is the executive director doing here after all?” He was a man of mystery.
He was always smiling and never showed any sign of the dignity of being an executive. On the contrary, everyone would be more tense if a department manager from the head office came to inspect.
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