Chapter 9: The Urge to Learn

Chapter 9

“I need to learn to read and write.”

Hay declared, his face serious.

Renki, who had been dipping a piece of soft bread into his corn soup, looked up.

“To read? Why so suddenly?”

“Can you read and write?”

Renki pondered for a moment before shaking his head.

Hay sighed. This was a world where illiteracy was not considered a flaw. Consequently, it had never posed a significant hindrance to his daily life, nor had Hay ever felt particularly inconvenienced by his inability to read until now. However, things were different at present. Not knowing how to read was inconvenient in many ways, and at times, it could even prove fatal.

Indeed, there had been several instances in the past where he had been swindled or betrayed in mercenary employment contracts simply because he couldn’t read. While those were childhood incidents and no longer a concern, he vividly remembered a chilling close call from his first mercenary group, where he nearly signed a s*ave contract that would have siphoned off 50% of his wages for a decade. It was a red-haired elf’s disciple, an idiot low-ranking spirit user who had failed spirit contracts five thousand times, who had helped Hay out of that predicament. Without him, Hay would have been irrevocably exploited for ten years.

Currently, he knew the essential words required for contracts and could read and write his own name, but beyond that, his knowledge was nonexistent. His resolve to learn how to read and write had solidified even further today, after browsing the quest board at the mercenary guild for suitable commissions. Up until now, he had always relied on guild members to verbally relay quest details before signing contracts.

“Ignorance is a sin, they say.” It seemed like a good idea to learn now, even if late.

“It feels strange to say this now, but not knowing how to read is frustrating. Even if I don’t use it often, there’s no harm in learning, right? So, I’m going to learn. You should learn with me.”

“Me too? Do I really need to?”

“What are you going to do while I’m studying? You’ll be bored. Just learn with me. We have nothing but time, anyway.”

“It costs money.”

“Hey, I’ve got plenty of money.” Hay patted the spatial expansion pouch tucked inside his clothes.

“But how are you going to find someone to teach us?”

“We’ll go back and pay the innkeeper to find someone.”

Acting on the old adage, ‘strike while the iron is hot,’ Hay finished his meal, took a short walk to aid digestion, and then returned to the inn to make his request to the innkeeper.

“You want to learn to read and write?”

“Yes.”

Mr. Torres looked at Hay with an expression that suggested he had seen all sorts of peculiar people.

“I don’t know if anyone will be willing. But alright, I’ll look into it. Oh, and when the noon bell rings, come down and pick up your laundry. It should be dry by then.”

“Yes, please find someone good. Oh, and I’ll pay for thirty days’ lodging upfront.”

“Staying for a whole month?”

“I plan to rest thoroughly. And study.”

Hay handed the innkeeper five additional silver coins, covering both the lodging fee and a gratuity for finding a tutor. The innkeeper’s short eyebrows twitched upward at the sight of the considerable sum, and he promptly tucked the money into his pouch.

Just then, his nephew, a young boy, was carrying a basket of dried laundry past Mr. Torres. Turning to the boy, Mr. Torres’s eyes widened, and he barked out a reprimand.

“Rick! You rascal, the laundry’s dragging on the floor! Can’t you do anything right?!”

Rick flinched as if he’d received an electric shock.

“Good grief, seriously! Pick it up, quickly!”

As he tried to retrieve the clothes dragging on the floor, he ended up spilling the entire basket. Mr. Torres’s exasperated shouts grew louder.

“Come on, Renki.”

Hay took Renki’s shoulder and led him toward the stairs. Yet, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the boy. The sight of the child bowing and groveling reminded him of his own youth, a time spent in servitude. A bitter taste filled his mouth.

Back in their room, the two sat on the bed, idly passing the time. There was nothing to do.

When the noon bell chimed from the bell tower, Renki sprang up as if he had been waiting for it. “I’ll go get the clothes,” he announced, then left the room.

Boring.

He considered taking a nap, but having slept in late today, sleep wouldn’t come. It seemed to be a consequence of the regular schedule he had kept while escorting the merchant caravan, waking early to prepare for departure.

Meanwhile, Renki returned with the dried laundry, which he neatly folded and put away.

He was bored.

During previous periods of rest, he usually indulged in long sleeps, or perhaps aimlessly walked around, or people-watched in the square. But that was Hay Styles twelve days ago; it wasn’t him now. He felt an inexplicable compulsion to do something, anything.

‘It must be because I rarely rested when I was Han Tae-hyun.’

Hay let out a deep sigh, then abruptly sprang from the bed. Renki flinched beside him.

“I should go train.”

“Already?” Renki was puzzled, as Hay had always trained late at night or early in the morning, even in Mejitun.

“There’s nothing to do.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to rest a bit? It’s only been a day since we arrived in the city. Overexerting yourself isn’t good for your body.”

“You can rest. Oh, if you’re bored, you can go out and play.”

Hay rummaged in his money pouch, pulled out a silver coin, and pressed it into Renki’s hand.

“Buy something tasty if you find anything.”

“I’m fine, really.”

“I’m fine too.” He ruffled Renki’s hair, the boy still unsure what to do with the money.

“I’m off, then?”

“Have a good time.”

With Renki’s bow and farewell, Hay left the room.

Hay headed toward the forest where he had trained late last evening. As expected, there were quite a few distractions during the day. A handful of city children were playing and running around, making mischief.

“I won’t be able to train here.” Hay scratched the back of his neck, a wry expression on his face. It seemed he would have to wait until the evening bell, just like yesterday.

‘What should I do now, then?’

He truly had nothing to do. Was having nothing to do really this boring?

Hay strolled leisurely, observing his surroundings. Life was much the same in every city, so there wasn’t much to see. He made his way to the main square, found a spot, and sat down to watch the people coming and going. Some citizens gathered in small groups, engaged in discussions, while others performed tricks, collecting coins from outsiders. Musicians played their instruments, maintaining a certain distance to prevent their melodies from clashing. Someone was even acting as a storyteller for young children—a girl who looked barely twenty, whom the children called ‘Mila.’

On one side, a fortune-teller had spread an exotic rug on the ground. She had placed a snow-white raw gem, of unknown origin, on a small table and was hawking her services, inviting people to have their fortunes told.

A fortune-teller.

His mother suddenly came to mind. Han Tae-hyun’s mother frequently visited fortune-tellers. She wasn’t one to blindly believe in superstitions but rather followed Korea’s indigenous shamanistic beliefs. However, she wasn’t fanatically devoted or dependent on them. She simply went to have her fortune told every New Year. His mother always paid attention to *samjae*, the three years of misfortune in traditional belief, and she taught her sons to avoid things that elders traditionally warned against. These were minor things, such as not stepping on the threshold, not sleeping with one’s head facing north, not carelessly bringing wooden objects into the house, or not sticking a spoon upright in a bowl of rice.

Han Tae-hyun had never had his fortune told, nor had his mother ever encouraged him to do so. The same went for horoscopes or *saju palja*, fate readings based on birth date and time, and he had never even tried tarot card readings, which others often did for fun.

The same applied to Hay Styles. He believed that all fortune-tellers who weren’t mages were charlatans. Yet, now, a flicker of curiosity stirred within him.

Hay watched the fortune-teller intently for a moment, then walked over and settled down in front of her. She had pulled her reddish-brown hood low, so he hadn’t realized until now that she was a young woman.

“Would you like your fortune told?”

“Yes. How much is the fee?” He decided that if she tried to overcharge him, he wouldn’t bother.

“I don’t charge much. It’s two silver.”

Having never had his fortune told, he had no idea if that was cheap or expensive. Hay took out the money beforehand and placed it on the table. The young fortune-teller immediately tucked the coins into a pouch within her clothes.

“What kind of fortune would you like me to tell?”

“Shouldn’t a fortune-teller know that without being asked?”

At that, the fortune-teller’s eyes widened, and her voice rose. “Look at this person! Even priests can’t do that! That’s not how fortune-telling works! Don’t you have something you want to know? Like, ‘I’m dating someone, will it work out?’, ‘Will I get married?’, ‘Should I continue with my current job?’, or ‘Will I earn more money?'”

“Uh, I hadn’t thought about it.”

The fortune-teller made an incredulous face. Hay felt a little abashed.

“Hurry up and think! I’m not giving the money back.”

“Hmm.” He pondered for a moment. Nothing came to mind about what to ask a fortune-teller. As his hesitation lengthened, the fortune-teller, looking slightly annoyed, impatiently tapped the table.

Then, a thought flashed through his mind.

“Can I become a *baeksu*?”

“Excuse me?”

“What?”

“No, what’s a *baeksu*? Do you want to become the King of the Jungle or something?”

“Ah.” Hay scratched his cheek, embarrassed. Since no one in this world knew Korean slang, it wasn’t surprising that the fortune-teller didn’t understand.

“No, it’s… can I live my whole life without working, just playing and eating?”

The fortune-teller scrunched her face, as if she had seen the most peculiar person ever.

“How can you live your whole life without working, just playing and eating? Even nobles lose their heads if they don’t work in this world.”

‘How much do nobles even work? It’s all done by their subordinates anyway.’

“This person is hopeless. No conscience, no shame. Do you want to be such a pathetic person, leeching off your parents your whole life? If that’s the case, I don’t think you need a fortune told to know the answer, do you? Are you really going to have your fortune told with that question?” The fortune-teller retorted sharply.

‘From the sound of it, isn’t she being a bit harsh on a customer?’

“Fine, let’s just do a general future reading. About what your future holds. Specific questions are better, but I suppose it can’t be helped. How’s that?”

Hay shrugged. It didn’t matter to him. He was just doing it for fun, anyway.

“Alright, shall we begin then?”

At that moment, the fortune-teller pushed aside the raw gem and suddenly pulled something out, piece by piece. It was a mirror.

“A mirror?”

“Huh? Have you seen a mirror before?”

Hay hesitated, then nodded. In this world, mirrors were not common items. They were expensive possessions, owned only by nobles or the wealthy.

“And you’ve seen your own face reflected in a mirror?”

“Yes, well, that’s…”

“Then it’s a relief you won’t fall over in shock. Mirrors are common in the Western Continent, but not so much among people of the Eastern Continent, so sometimes people are so surprised they faint.”

He had once seen something on TV. The story that when mirrors were first invented, people were afraid of them. Some were even said to have died of heart attacks from the shock.

‘Was that true?’