How to Live as a Genius Scholar in another World

Chapter 28 – Future Dreams (7)

—–CROW—– 

“Polygamy?”

Francesca’s voice brought me back to reality from the miserable past where I awakened to machismo.

“Yes. Ah… but it might have been a bit inappropriate to mention that to a woman.”

The women in this world wanted to be the wives of handsome and capable men as much as they wanted to build reverse harems with husbands of their choosing.  I knew this much.

But saying it directly to her face felt strange.  The Confucian dragon within me was still alive and wriggling.

It had been over three and a half years since I came to this world, and I was still like this. The path of the otherworldly macho man was long and arduous.

“No, it’s okay.  It’s a common dream for men. My mother was my father’s second wife.”

Francesca’s voice was the same as usual. I didn’t know if it was because she couldn’t express her disgust to my face, or if this was really normal for otherworldly people.

“Thank you for saying that. …But second wife? You’re not of noble birth, are you?  You won’t come after me later and demand my head because I was disrespectful, will you?”

I shuddered, remembering how I threw her in the sewer.

In this kind of fantasy, wasn’t it a common trope for someone who ran away from home to be the illegitimate child or a hidden offspring of some noble?

“Hehe. No. My father was an alchemist. He was already over 60 when I was born.”

Fortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case. Relieved, I joked,

“60? Hahaha! Your parents must have had a good relationship.”

“Not really… He passed away before I was old enough to understand. I don’t really remember his face.”

Her voice was slightly melancholic this time. Why did I keep saying the wrong things today? Nothing was going my way.

“Hehe. Anyway, hearing your practical goal makes my dream seem rather unrealistic.”

Francesca readily agreed to my attempt to change the subject.

“What’s wrong with being unrealistic? My childhood dream was even more absurd and foolish.”

“If we’re talking about childhood dreams, I win hands down.  I wanted to be a dinosaur when I was a kid.”

“Pfft. A dinosaur? You’re a good joker.”

It was true, though.

Oh, right. In this world, dinosaurs were considered monsters. The kids here probably wouldn’t say things like, “Aren’t Tyrannosaurus Rexes awesome?”

I was glad she took it as a joke.  I rinsed the almost odorless laundry in fresh water and asked,

“Then what was your dream, Francesca?”

Francesca didn’t answer.  I couldn’t tell if she didn’t hear me or if she didn’t want to answer, so I didn’t press further.

I already felt like I was constantly triggering her trauma switches.

But thinking about it, it was a bit strange. Francesca was the one who brought up dreams in the first place. Why would she bring up such a sensitive topic like the past?

The innkeeper’s words came back to me.

—Fran is only 22.  She’s an adult, but it’s a tough age to be alone in a strange land.

—She must be lonely and struggling without anyone to lean on, but she works so hard.  Understand?

Whoosh…

—Creak.

The sound of someone getting out of the bath was followed by the slight opening of the bathroom window.

It was a small gap, just enough to peek outside, and Francesca seemed to be looking out through it.

“The moon is beautiful tonight.”

It was the kind of expression someone studying literature would appreciate.  I thought I’d heard it in a liberal arts class.

I looked up at the sky. The chubby half-moon I saw on the way back from the ruins request had become a full moon.

“Yes.  It’s a beautiful moonlit night.  Come to think of it, autumn was also called the season of the moon in my hometown.”

“Hehe. That’s an interesting expression.”

“Our national holiday was in autumn.”

Chuseok, along with the first full moon of the lunar new year, was a day of the full moon. It was also called the Harvest Moon Festival. The representative images associated with Chuseok were the orange moon in the sky and persimmons hanging on trees.

Autumn was a sentimental season.  Was it because it was a good time to be sentimental that the moon seemed more beautiful? I was a science guy, so I didn’t know.

Anyway, even in this world, the full moon was cherished.

On bright moonlit nights, it was easy to walk without a light.  Outside the designated roads, it was so dark that you were hesitant to walk without the lights from houses or pubs.

In that sense, the bright light of the full moon was very reliable when walking on unfamiliar, scary roads.  In this world, the full moon was a moon of courage.

Then Francesca spoke.

“My dream was to be an explorer.”

I quietly listened to Francesca to avoid saying anything wrong again.

“I wanted to explore ruins and new worlds, to find ancient treasures that no one knew about.  I must have been fascinated by the exciting adventures and treasures in books.  And I dreamed of showing off the treasures I found to my mother. It was a naive dream.”

I recalled what happened in the ruins.  That’s why Francesca was interested in the inscription on the stone tablet.

“But now… I don’t remember how I felt when I had that dream.”

—Splash.

The sound of water splashing with her feet.

“Hehe.  I guess I forgot because I was too busy remembering how to pick locks, how to make traps, how to reuse discarded firewood.”

“…When you become an adult, you forget your dreams because life gets too hard.”

People lived by inertia.  It was painful and shitty to realize that life was shitty for both Earthlings and otherworldly people.

‘Life is shitty because life is shitty.’

What a fucking brilliant quote.  I should write it down in large letters on the back cover of my autobiography when I become a professor.  And make my graduate student slaves read it and write ten-page book reports.  While also constantly giving them more work.

I would probably be stabbed a hundred times, but by then, I would be Grand Master Nord, an invincible professor immune to stab wounds. Or not.

“But I think that’s okay.  Dreams and goals are different.”

I said, wringing the laundry.

“Life is meaningless if you only think about the future.  It’s much more comfortable and better to have realistic goals while doing both what you have to do and what you want to do.”

“What you want to do?”

“Yes.  Life doesn’t always go your way, but it’s ridiculous to only do things you don’t want to do.  No matter how hard you work, you never know what tomorrow will bring.  Like you said, we both almost died in the sewers and the ruins.”

This was my YOLO-ism.

This is what happened when you lived in the 21st century, where you couldn’t even afford a deposit for a small apartment even if you saved a million won every month for ten years.  You worried more about the new convenience store kimbap than your future.

It was the same now. Who would have thought that Kang Buk-ho, a Korean veterinary student, would be doing laundry for a half-dwarf girl in another world?

If I had known, I would have confessed to my first love, been more proactive with my ex-girlfriend whom I broke up with without even kissing, asked my parents if I could change my ridiculous name, and not joined the damn army.  I would have served as a public health doctor after graduating from veterinary school.

I didn’t know why I hated being treated like a man who hadn’t served in the military. I regretted enlisting just three days in, and I kept regretting it until I was discharged with my skinny senior sergeant.

“Hehehe. That’s true.  But wouldn’t you regret it later if you only did what you wanted to do?”

Francesca let out an awkward laugh.  As far as I knew, this was Francesca’s first forced laugh. I could guess how she felt, so I asked as casually as possible,

“How about now?”

“Huh?”

“Do you regret it now?”

The splashing stopped.  I couldn’t hear the annoying insect noises in this inn.  I should have stayed here.

“People often say to make choices you won’t regret, but how many people live without regrets?”

I couldn’t even do what I wanted while living this shitty otherworldly survival story?

If that were the case, I would lose the will to live and die like a rabbit left alone at home.

“Even if it seems foolish to others, wouldn’t it be enough if you enjoy it?”

At least, that’s what I thought.

Even though I hadn’t found a way to enjoy life in this other world yet.

Creak—

That’s when it happened. Francesca, who had been silent, opened the window completely and poked her head out.

“Hey, Nord.”

Francesca smiled, steam rising from her hair.

“Want to drop the formalities?”

Seeing the same smile I saw in the sewers, I finished wringing out the laundry and replied,

“If you call me ‘oppa’.”

—And so,

Nord, the resourceful scholar of this world, made another connection in the rural city of Sargardis.

A 21-year-old half-dwarf who was still unbalanced, both physically and mentally.

…Oh, and by the way, she didn’t call me ‘oppa’.

“Brother!”

“I’m sorry.  Please just call me Nord.”

This damn Britannian language.

What was with “Brother”?

***

“Which clothes did you want me to alter?”

Francesca asked, drying her hair with a towel.

We had finished the laundry and bath and were now in Francesca’s room.  The washed poncho was hung on a drying rack in the corner of the room. It would surely be stolen if dried outside.

Francesca, fresh from her bath, wore pajamas-like clothes.  While the clothes offered no exposure, her unrestrained breasts displayed the majesty of a lion escaped from the zoo.

I tried to avoid looking at her chest as I took out the robe and mask from my bag.

“This… frankly, it might be a bit difficult to call this an alteration.”

Looking at the robe, I suddenly thought that.

Asking for alterations when it was almost unrecognizable?  Thinking about it seriously, it would be better to buy new fabric and ask her to make new clothes.

“What are you going to use it for?”

“I’m going to the Mages Guild. I’m curious about the magic I obtained, so I want to ask them about it, but it’s better to hide my identity, just in case.”

“Ah~ Right. Paragon said that too, didn’t he? That it would be faster to ask a mage.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Let me see.”

Francesca put down her towel, felt the robe, and said,

“The robe is practically just fabric, so it should be easy to fix. But it would be faster to carve the mask from scratch.”

“Ah, I thought so.”

“Yeah. How do you want the overall design?”

I took out a notebook from my pocket. I thought it would be easier to show her a drawing than to explain it verbally.

Scribble— scribble—

I finished the drawing I poured my heart into in a few minutes.  Francesca looked at my drawing and chuckled.

“Hehehe. Nord, you’re not good at drawing, are you?”

“Leave it alone.”

Was it that bad? I looked at my drawing. It wasn’t that strange.

Then Francesca took my pen and drew on the back of my drawing.

Scribble, scribble, scribble—

“How about something like this?”

I shut my mouth after seeing the sketch she made in less than a minute.  My scribble looked like a child’s summer homework assignment compared to hers.

“Maybe I was actually born missing a finger on my right hand.”

Was this really drawn by the same species as me?  I understood how ordinary artists felt suicidal when they saw a master’s work.

“It was easy to draw because your drawing captured the characteristics well. The drawing was a bit strange, but the design was cool.”

Francesca said, smiling mischievously.  Her sincere consolation warmed my heart.  My heart, which had endured much pain and hardship today, melted.

“What do you mean my drawing was good? You just retouched it nicely, Fran. …But can you really make something like this? Won’t it be difficult?”

“No. This isn’t hard.  For the robe, I just need to fold the fabric and sew it. Like this.”

Francesca folded the shoulder part of the robe and pulled it, recreating the design exactly as shown in the drawing.  As she said, just a few adjustments completely changed the impression.

Wow, she envisioned this from my messy drawing? Dwarves were truly a cheat race. If I was going to be reincarnated or possessed in this other world, I should have been a dwarf.

Anyway, I was very satisfied with the shape of the robe.

“Amazing.  Then I’ll leave it to you. How much for the work?”

“I’ll do it for free. I owe you a lot, Nord.”

Wow! Free!

“Really? Wow. Thank you so much.”

I expressed my gratitude while suppressing tears of joy. Who would dislike free stuff?  Moreover, it wasn’t just receiving something for free; it was being repaid by someone I had helped.

This was Korean Jeong, a reciprocal exchange of labor. I didn’t expect to see our traditional culture in this other world.

“Ah, but Fran, are you sure it’s okay? I’m worried I’m disturbing your rest after your request.”

“You worry too much. Don’t worry. This isn’t even work.”

Francesca said, clenching her tiny fists. Her enthusiasm was appreciated.

“Okay.  Then drinks are on me tonight. Come on, let’s go.”

When I stood up, Francesca’s eyes widened for some reason.

“Huh? Wasn’t this robe alteration urgent? I was planning to start working on it right away.”

“…It is a bit urgent. But I can’t ask someone who just came back from work to work again.  Just finish it within a few days.”

It just meant a few more days of me clutching my dick and trembling.

I couldn’t tell her, “Fran! I’m scared my dick will disappear! Hurry up!”

“Hmm. Then I’ll just set up the frame.  I need to set up the frame when I have that, you know, *ping!* feeling, so I don’t forget what I was going to do later.”

Francesca explained with body language.  Fortunately, I had experienced a similar feeling when writing my thesis, so I understood.

“Ah, I know that feeling. If you postpone work, you start wondering, ‘Was this what I was going to do?’ You lose that initial spark.”

“Right? Right? You understand!”

Francesca jumped up and down with a bright face at my words. She was so cute.  She was three times cuter when we were close.

But her breasts weren’t cute.  They were menacing.

Did you know? Large breasts changed not only a person’s behavior but also their way of thinking.

The enormous volume and mass that prevented you from crossing your arms and caused pain every time you ran! It constantly bothered women with large breasts.

But not Francesca.  She didn’t seem to be fully aware of her breast size. Was it because she was physically strong? She moved around just fine with those huge breasts.

“Do you have a sewing kit?  You know, needles and thread.”

I quickly changed the subject. Francesca, seemingly oblivious to my abrupt shift, nodded.

“Yeah. I got some when I made the mask last time.”

“Ah, right. That’s right.”

She said she made the mask we borrowed for the request.

“Then wait a moment.  I’ll just set up the frame and be done.”

With that, Francesca brought her sewing kit and started altering the robe.

“…”

“…”

The room became quiet as she began to work.

We weren’t close enough to be comfortable with this silence, and we both realized that it was becoming awkward.

“…Will it bother you if I talk?”

“No, I’d actually prefer it… it’s a bit awkward. Hehe.”

We were on the same page. I felt relieved and said,

“Come to think of it, are you okay with alcohol? The innkeeper told me you pass out after just one drink.”

“W-what?!”

Flinch!

Francesca jumped in surprise at my words.  Her reaction surprised me as well.

“Ouch! Ugh…!”

Francesca winced, seemingly pricking herself with a needle in her surprise.  Quite a lot of blood flowed from her index finger.

“Oh, dear… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, it’s okay. I asked you to talk to me.”

Then Francesca, holding her finger, suddenly frowned.

“But more importantly, what was that about me not being able to hold my liquor?”

Was that more important than her injury? But I flinched because it was the first time I had seen Francesca frown like that.

“I can hold my liquor! I’m a half-dwarf, half-human; how could I not be able to drink?!”

“Okay, okay, let’s stop the bleeding first. You’re bleeding a lot.”

The bleeding from her finger showed no signs of stopping.  Either the wound was deep, or she was agitated.

“It’ll stop on its own.  But more importantly—”

“Wait, don’t do that. It’ll be serious if it gets infected.  Do you have any disinfectant?”

“…No.”

Seeing Francesca’s pouting face, I checked my bag.

“Wait.  Let’s rinse it with water first.  Do you have a clean cloth?”

“I have some leftover from making the mask…”

“Where is it? Give it to me.”

I took the clean cloth from Francesca, held it against her injured finger, and poured water over it.

—Trickle, trickle.

—Drip.

I rinsed the wound, but the bleeding didn’t stop.

I was worried.  In a famous Korean movie, one of the protagonist’s subordinates stepped on a rusty nail and ended up with a wooden leg due to tetanus.

This was a world without tetanus shots.  I couldn’t underestimate even a small wound, as I didn’t know what kind of complications might arise. I should have brought a potion.

“…Wait. I’ll go downstairs and ask the innkeeper for a bandage and some alcohol to disinfect it.”

“You’re such a worrywart.”

“Just wait quietly, please.”

I said, looking directly into Francesca’s blue eyes.  Francesca blinked, her mouth twitching, then nodded obediently.

With Francesca’s permission, I went downstairs.  Alcohol for disinfection needed to be as pure as possible. In Korea, convenience store soju would have been enough, but distilled liquor was hard to find in Britannia.

“Innkeeper. Do you have any distilled liquor among the alcohol you sell?”

“…Distilled liquor?”

The innkeeper, who was working on the first floor, looked intrigued for some reason.

“Hehe.  Sure.  I’ll get it for you.  I just happen to have a white elephant.”

She said, clearly amused.

“A very strong one that made a nice young lady pass out after just one drink on her first day.”

—–CROW—–