How to Live as a Genius Scholar in another World

Chapter 26 – Future Dreams (5)

—–CROW—– 

The saying, “Hardships in youth are good for you,” was bullshit, but it seemed true that a higher pain threshold built stronger mental fortitude.

So, while the sewer reconnaissance request had left me with hellish trauma, Francesca could dismiss it as “just one of those unpleasant memories.”

The fact that she went back to the sewers, a place I wouldn’t want to see for a while, for another job… I was impressed by her mental strength.

“Guwaaaaaaaaagh…”

“Heeiiiiiiii…”

However, Francesca, mortified at having her foul odor witnessed, and I, suffering a PTSD relapse, ended up making a pathetic scene at the inn.

“What are you two doing?”

The innkeeper sighed, watching us make a fuss at the entrance.

“Fran. I’ll let you use the bathroom. Go wash up.”

“Yes, yes! Thank you! Nord, please wait a moment!”

Francesca hurried to the back of the inn. Did this inn have a bathroom service? No, she was probably borrowing the innkeeper’s bathroom.

“And you said you were Fran’s friend? Then do her laundry. You have nothing else to do while you wait.”

“Huh?”

It was utterly illogical, but I was too mentally exhausted from reliving my rendezvous with the katydids to refuse and was dragged along by the lady.

—Splash, splash.

And so, there I was, doing laundry.

“Ugh, it’s cold.”

It was autumn, nearing harvest time. The well water, drawn from the ground, was cold. It wasn’t a good season for laundry.

The laundry I received was Francesca’s favorite gray robe.  There were no undergarments or innerwear.  I hadn’t expected anything strange to begin with, but the disappointment was inevitable.

“Here’s some water heated from the hearth.”

“Ah, thank you.”

The innkeeper’s husband brought me some hot water, which was a relief.  It was boiling hot. If I used this as it was, my hand-broth would seep into the clothes by the time I finished.

So, I mixed the hot water with cold well water to adjust the temperature.  This was how you controlled water temperature in this world.

Swish—

I scrubbed the poncho with laundry soap.  The stench clinging to the clothes was hard to remove.

“Ugh.”

I wanted to use Beast Regression.  Laundry would be a piece of cake with that.  I would even be immune to the cold, so I could use the cold water directly.

But I couldn’t use Beast Regression.  I didn’t know what would happen to my penis again.

I was afraid that it would keep growing every time I used it, and eventually, it would become longer than 50cm, and I would have to wrap it around my waist like a Saiyan tail.

I shuddered at the thought of myself with a penis belt. If I got punched in the stomach during a fight, my dick-belt would snap in half.

—Splash, splash, splash, splash!!

I quickly moved my hands to shake off the horrifying image.

At first, I wondered why I was doing this, but it wasn’t so bad once I started.  I didn’t have time for distracting thoughts when I was moving my body. It reminded me of my friend who was on a diet saying he liked working part-time because he didn’t feel hungry.

Squeeze…

I wrung the poncho in the hot water.

Swish…

Plop.

As I lifted the waterlogged poncho, I heard the sound of water moving from outside the basin. I blinked, pausing my laundry.

“Huh?”

“Eek?!”

A voice immediately responded to mine.

It was Francesca.

“N-Nord?! Are you there?!”

“Francesca? Uh? Was this the bathroom?”

Francesca’s voice was filled with embarrassment.  Her voice came from the window in the wall.

Was the area next to the well a bath?  They must have installed the plumbing near the well for easy access to water.

But because of that, I was about to be mistaken for a peeping Tom.  So, I quickly explained.

“Sorry.  I didn’t know this was the bathroom. The innkeeper asked me to do your laundry.”

“M-my laundry?! Why?!”

I wanted to ask the same question.

“Don’t worry.  It’s just your outer robe, not anything else.  I’m pretty good at laundry, so don’t worry about it getting torn or damaged.”

I was once a 100% pure, natural-born slave. I had done plenty of laundry.

‘Come to think of it, I first got to know Dana because of laundry.’

Dana, my fellow graduate student slave.

The beginning of our relationship was when she accidentally put her underwear in the communal laundry, and I, while cursing about which shameless woman had put her panties in there, discovered her.

She was unusually conscientious for an otherworldly person. She couldn’t blame me, and her flustered rambling, a single woman lacking experience with men, was still vivid in my memory.

“No, that’s not it!  You don’t have to do my laundry, Nord!”

Francesca’s near-scream snapped me out of my reminiscing.

“Ah, I see.  You must have been uncomfortable.”

A woman would naturally feel uncomfortable or embarrassed having her clothes handled by a man she wasn’t close to.  I had assumed it was okay because it was the innkeeper, a woman, who asked me to do it.

“So, it’s not that I’m uncomfortable or anything… I’m just sorry…”

“I don’t mind. If you don’t want me touching your clothes, just tell me. But since I’m getting free drinks, I’d like to do your laundry.”

“…Ugh.  Okay.  Then I’ll leave it to you.”

Francesca finally agreed.  Then she muttered in a small voice,

“Innkeeper… why such a mean prank…”

She was embarrassed, even though she didn’t say it outright.

Should I move?  That seemed better.

Another man was washing her clothes, separated only by a window and a wall.  Staying here would only make things more awkward. It would also make it harder to ask her for help with altering my clothes later.

“Um, Nord.  What brings you here today?”

But Francesca initiated the conversation.  She was trying to break the awkward silence. I awkwardly stood up and then sat back down.

“I have a favor to ask.  I’ll pay you, of course.  Could you alter some clothes and a mask for me?”

“Huh? Uh, I think I can.  I’ve made a few things as a hobby.”

Could making clothes be considered a hobby?  Being a seamstress wasn’t easy. As if anticipating my question, Francesca said,

“I’ve worked various jobs since I was young.  Thanks to that, I’ve picked up a lot of odd skills.”

“Ah… you must have had a hard time.”

I didn’t know what else to say.  Other people’s hardships or misfortunes were difficult topics to respond to.

“It’s nothing. It’s all in the past.  Back then, I was desperate to be recognized for my hard work, no matter what the job was.  Actually, it’s the same now that I’m an adventurer.”

“Yes.  It seems that way.  You went on another request today after yesterday’s?  And to the sewers, where you had a rather rough experience.”

“Yes.  After our report, the Adventurers Guild and the guards conducted a large-scale giant roach extermination.  Today’s request was to clean up afterward.”

“Aren’t you tired?  To be honest, I’m quite exhausted because I went on two requests in a row.”

In the sewers, I was chased by a swarm of katydids, and in the ruins, where I thought I would have an easy time, I was tormented by green goblins and Nefertiti.

Even Beast Regression, which I thought would be helpful, had become a malicious virus that caused bugs in my penis.

But Francesca, who suffered just as much as I did, went on another request today without any complaints.

I hadn’t shown up at the guild because I was planning to work on my thesis, but would I have gone on a request even without that excuse?

Probably, probably I would have rested for a day.

“I’m fine. Maybe it’s the dwarf blood, but physical exhaustion is much better than mental exhaustion. I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep.”

“Heh. You’re much healthier and stronger than me, both mentally and physically.  Wouldn’t you reach Bronze class quickly?”

“Hehe. I wish.”

Splash—

The sound of water splashing indicated Francesca moving in the bathtub. She spoke in a cheerful voice,

“I’m planning to become a guild staff member at the Audhumla Guild after I reach Silver class.”

“Huh?”

Why would she choose that job, that guild?

I couldn’t help but think of the shitty Audhumla Guild.  Being a receptionist at an adventurer’s guild seemed like a hellish job, regardless of its career prospects or job security.  I rarely saw companies that treated their employees well, especially those that exploited subcontractors.

So, I asked in astonishment,

“Um, what was it? Wouldn’t it be better to pursue something that utilizes your dexterity or talent?”

Dwarves were also known as the craftsman race.  Their innate abilities were suited for crafting.

Their eyes, capable of discerning the temperature of objects, and their delicate, nimble hands were perfect for blacksmithing.  With their patience and toughness, they were natural-born blacksmiths.

They also had high potential in any field that utilized dexterity.  Their aptitude for magic was similar to humans.  More than 90% of the specialized equipment at Carmine University was made by dwarves.

So, why choose to be a receptionist at an adventurer’s guild?  That was the meaning behind my question.

“…The craftsman industry doesn’t like people without connections.”

Francesca answered, splashing in the water.

“I’ve wandered around for almost 10 years after leaving my hometown, but I’ve always been labeled an outsider.  Seamstresses and blacksmiths treated me like a handyman, not an apprentice; they never taught me their skills.”

“…Discrimination based on origin.  There are many regions in Britannia that are hostile to outsiders.”

“Yes.  I guess so.  It’s probably the same everywhere.”

“I understand. I’ve experienced it myself.”

I presumptuously felt sorry for Francesca.  Me, who had been criticizing her desired job and calling the guild shitty.

But that’s how I felt.

Because we were in the same boat.

Francesca had been tormented by unscrupulous otherworldly people like the quack blacksmith I met today.

And I was thrown into this damn other world, unjustly sentenced to slavery, and had my three years of work on my thesis stolen.

Foreigners exploited in a foreign land, far from home. That’s who we were.

“Hehe. That’s why I’m aiming to become a guild staff member this time.  Even if I fail again, I’m thinking that maybe someday I’ll find a new home… if I keep working hard.”

“A life of challenges is beautiful. I’ll cheer for you.”

“Thank you.  Your words encourage me.”

Realistically, my encouragement wouldn’t help Francesca in any way.

But I knew that a few words of comfort and a smile could be a great solace to someone living a difficult life.

“Do you have a dream, Nord?”

Francesca asked cheerfully. I stopped my laundry at her question.

“A dream?”

My dream.

Of course, my dream was to find a way back to Earth. But it was difficult to explain, and there was a risk of my academic background and past being revealed.

I didn’t distrust Francesca, but it wasn’t a suitable topic for light conversation.  Knowing someone else’s secrets, especially when you didn’t want to know them, was just burdensome.

“Hmm…”

“Ah, you don’t have to force yourself to answer if you don’t want to.”

“No.  It’s not really a dream, but I do have a goal.”

I had several goals besides finding a way back home.

My immediate priority was to undo the illegal patch on my penis.

But that was even harder to talk about than my original goal.  Even mentioning that my penis had grown was awkward, let alone saying I wanted to return it to its original size.  It was a ridiculous goal, even to me.

Then what else was there?

Becoming stronger and raising my adventurer rank was also a goal.

But that wasn’t an answer to her question.  Most adventurers wanted to rank up.  It was like being asked what your job was and answering, “I work to earn money.”

“Really? What kind of dream?”

Francesca asked expectantly. Was it because we had worked together for the past few days? I could easily imagine her expression.

“Well, my immediate goal is…”

The one thing I had to do to return to Earth.

Ironically, it was…

“Polygamy.”

—To have multiple wives.

—–CROW—–