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墨書 Inktalez
After changing jobs, John patted his new armor and held the five Silver Coins he had just received as his monthly salary as he walked into the tavern. In the past half month since his arrival, his identity had shifted rapidly—from a Serf to a Slave, then to a Slave Cook, and finally to a Mercenary before becoming a Gate Guard.
However, John was quite satisfied with his current position. It was stable; he only had to stand guard for a few hours each day, and it felt safe. After all, there weren't many bandits who would attack the city gates, and it was considered an official post, even if some of the older guards held a bit of resentment.
"Bartender, give me a mug of wheat beer and a plate of roasted meat," he ordered. Just as he sat down, barely warming his seat, someone greeted him.
"Little John! Looks like you've changed jobs."
John turned to see Lai Gen. "Oh, you’ve changed jobs too."
"Here’s your wheat beer," Lai Gen said as he placed the drink in front of John.
"Thanks." John picked up his mug and sat down next to Lai Gen, noticing that his friend's face looked rather grim.
"What’s wrong? You look troubled."
"You wouldn’t understand if I told you."
Lai Gen downed a full mug of beer and waved the bartender for another round. John quickly offered him his own drink first; he didn’t want to get dragged into any trouble.
"Come on, Lai Gen. We’re brothers; just tell me what’s going on."
Hearing the word "brother," Lai Gen instinctively forced a bitter smile. He sent the bartender away and leaned closer to John, speaking in a low voice. "Do you know how our Captain got that knightly title?"
"No idea. I really don’t know."
Lai Gen's expression was filled with bitterness. "It was bought with our lives."
"What?"
"The Orcs are invading the kingdom's front lines, and now every region is sending soldiers to fight. That damned Poland has made us scapegoats by sending us to Viscount White first. In a couple of days, everyone will have to go to the front lines. I became a Mercenary because I was afraid of dying—what kind of situation is this?"
After finishing his words, Lai Gen took another swig of beer.
"Bartender! I ordered food; don’t just let me drink!"
"Brother, pour me a drink too."
John sighed after hearing this. Just when he thought he had escaped the threat of death, he found himself standing at the gates of hell again. He had previously felt that being a soldier was stable and safe, but now it seemed that stability had directly led him to the battlefield.
After pondering for a moment, John tentatively asked Lai Gen, "What if we just run?"
"Run? Where would we go?" Lai Gen replied, an old hand at this game. He knew this place too well. The moment we take off, we'd be hunted down. Besides, didn’t you see the guards at the city gate? Do you really think you can escape? Just accept it, brother. Bartender, bring me the strongest drink you have. After all, there won’t be any place to spend the money later."
Lai Gen had resigned himself to fate. "Let’s drink today and worry about tomorrow when it comes."
Looking at the few silver coins in his hand, he thought they wouldn’t even be enough to buy his life.
"Forget it," he said. "Bartender, pour me another drink and swap my roasted meat for a giant Battle Axe Steak. If I’m going to die, I might as well die full."
The next day
Waking up in the bar, John noticed that Lai Gen had left at some point. Feeling a sharp pain in his throat, he quickly grabbed a glass of water from the bartender and gulped it down.
"Ugh," he coughed and spat on the floor. Picking up his helmet from beside him, he grabbed his weapon at the bar entrance and secured his Peidao at his waist while holding a Long-handled Warhammer in one hand. Still feeling groggy, he stumbled toward the City Gate.
No matter what happened, the sun rose as usual, and someone had to stand guard at the gate.
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