Somehow, Living Life in Another World is Wrong, as I Expected Ch. 8.5

Disparity. A difference of two sides. Stories that parents would read to their kid (I’m speaking from a lack of experience in this regard) would pit the hero against the villain. Always, the hero would inevitably win. They would struggle, they would come closer than they’d like to failure.

None of that changes that the hero always wins.

Of course, as time went on, humans would develop the feel for tragedies, even if they were historically as prevalent as any other story. I’m referring to the idea that, no matter the struggle, people will always fail. That the villain would sometimes just win.

Disparity within the disparity of good versus evil.

Well, it’s not like I’m a hero anyway. I only do what I think is best for me, and if that involves helping other people, then that’s just a healthy side effect. Neither good nor evil, just self-serving. I am fine with that. Not everyone needs to fall into the purview of goodness, especially since not everyone has the same idea of ‘good’.

The fact that I’m even waxing poetic about this is indicator enough that nobody would be interested in my existence. Even now, the thought of some omniscient above-the-gods observers watching me is terrifying. I can already hear the glint of their shiny bald heads in the sunlight.

Truly, the thought sends me shivering in my bed.

Oh wait. That’s not it. Really.

See, this brings me to one final point. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, the most physical concept that disparity puts to mind is temperature.

What I’m saying is, it’s really, really fucking cold.

…

“Achoo!” I leaned away as Felt barely managed to cover her mouth. Grimacing, I handed over a cloth for her to wipe with, not because I was being nice, but just to stop her from wiping her snot all over the damn counter again.

“Damn wind’s howling outside.” Even Rom was sniffling slightly, though his own natural constitution let him get away with wearing his usual getup. The same could not be said for either me nor Felt. We were both wearing somewhat thicker coats than usual. Felt was definitely not happy with how it restricted her movement, and it was made all the more clear as she continued to scowl at empty air.

After getting home last night, I hadn’t expected for the temperature to drop almost visibly. And I meant that quite literally - I could see my breath fogging up in front of my face whenever I breathed out. Thankfully, the capital was equipped with some heating magic that would take most of the bite of the cold.

Unfortunately, they hadn’t been prepared for the weather to suddenly crash out. From the scrambling I could see outside, whoever was in charge of the magic was getting everyone to get everything up to speed. It’s already just the slightest bit warmer than it was earlier, so I suppose they’ve at least been able to mitigate some of the cold.

That also meant that Karsten’s little invitation would have to be postponed due to a very valid reason. Hmm? I sound like a kid trying to get out of class? Why yes, I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you very much.

Still, it was worrying that the weather turned out like this. I wasn’t stocked up enough on goods to last me through winter, not yet anyway. And with people no doubt running to the markets to buy everything, I won’t be able to get through without running afoul of everyone else.

See, the thing is, when it comes to seasons, this world is fairly consistent. With it being a flat planet - still something that doesn’t make any fucking sense to me - there are very rarely any times that weather patterns change. It’s why places like Lugunica became such a hub for trade, and Priestella became a tourist hotspot.

Whenever the weather does change drastically, that’s when things are worrying.

Changing the weather was usually a task that could be done by a skilled enough magic user. Could, but the sheer scale and power required to do so would necessitate that they be at least on the level of Mathers himself. And while the margrave was recognized as the best magic user in the kingdom, there was still no full guarantee that there weren’t others just like him.

So, the sheer amount of chaos outside was understandable. People were trying their hardest to prepare for the worst, even if they clearly didn’t want to. The capital would be in chaos till the initial preparations were finished. As for me?

The door slammed open.

Three people, two men and a woman, came through. Their arms were otherwise occupied with whatever groceries they had managed to scrounge up from the battle royale I knew had to be happening outside. Nonetheless, I waited patiently for them to catch their breaths.

One of the men walked up to the counter, pulled out his coin pouch, and set down ten silver coins, “How much can this get us?” 

“I can give you a shortsword and a dagger for this.” I spoke smoothly. In reality, I was upcharging quite a bit, I know. Normally, this would be enough for two whole longswords, but supply and demand, you know? Oi, don’t look at me like that.

See? This guy doesn’t mind. He’s nodding along as if he knows the price of weapons in this day and age!

I motioned Rom to go get from my supply in the back, while I inspected the silver in front of me. Wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to pawn off fake currency directly to me, so it paid to make sure this was legit.

Rom quickly returned with the weapons, handing them over to Felt, who was already preparing a set of leather sheaths. In one quick motion, I made a show of inspecting them - it pays to look like I’m double checking when I know that, unless they were up against something that melts metal, these were going to be up to standard. 

I handed them over to the man, who just as quickly gave the dagger to the woman, strapping the sword to his waist. They didn’t even give a glance back as they rushed out the door. None of us minded. They weren’t the first to come in today like this, nor would they be the last.

With the possibility that the Witch Cult, or an organization that has the power to change the damn weather, being involved, everyone and anyone was arming themselves. As for me? I’m charging people a premium for premium products, you know. You can at least give me credit where credit’s due; I didn’t name my shop after a fruit.

Seriously though, the money was good, but the real problem was my stock. I could make a sword faster than the regular blacksmiths in the entire capital. That doesn’t matter if I don’t have any material to work with. I already went to check on my usual suppliers, only to find out that they were already out of any and all materials, the other, closer blacksmiths having bought them out just before I came over.

As such, I had to make the most out of what stock I have, and if that means charging more and more, then so be it.

There was yet another slamming of my door open. Mentally, I noted that I would need to check the hinges on that thing. It hasn’t failed yet, though that could change at a moment’s notice.

“Oh, hey, Hikigaya!”

I finally took notice of just who had come in. The first thing I saw was the bright blonde hair that was just a shade off from Felt’s. The next thing I noticed was Felt’s annoyed growling. The third was the haughty smirk on the face of one of the two that just entered.

The one who spoke was a helmeted, one-armed gladiator. Aldebaran, personal guard to the woman he was accompanying. He held the door open as Barielle made her way into my shop, and I couldn’t help the slight sweat on my brow as she did so.

Priscilla Barielle was not someone who I liked dealing with.  The money was good, and that’s the only thing I could approve of. The woman was a damn shark in the water, and for whatever reason, was both incredibly lucky, and had the wits to use that to her advantage. The fact that she was walking into my shop, outfitted in a dress that belonged to a summer ball rather than the cold,without prior notice was concerning, to put it mildly.

“Barielle, Aldebaran.” The man visibly cringed as I spoke his name, “What are you both doing here?”

“Hmph.” Looking away from Felt, Barielle focused her eye on me, “Hikigaya. Yes, I suppose you might be of assistance in this regard.” The blonde motioned with her fan to Aldebaran, and the gladiator quickly leaned down to the ground. He removed one of her shoes, and stood up with it in his hand, handing it over to me in one action.

“The strap broke while I was walking. Fix it quickly, will you?” Indeed, I noticed one of the main straps had torn slightly. I looked blankly towards it. Technically, I could fix it, but goddamn, I’m a blacksmith, not a shoesmith!

Barielle didn’t elaborate any further. I aimed my gaze towards the only reasonable companion she had. Aldebaran had the decency to at least act sheepish, “Yeah, sorry, it’s exactly as she said. We were walking near here when it just snapped randomly. Luckily, it happened right in front of your shop. Didn’t even realize it till we walked in!”

…You sound too happy for that, don’t you?

“Fine, I’ll fix it.” I grumbled. It’s not like I had a choice, “I will be billing you for this.”

“Understandable.” Barielle agreed easily enough, “Though I would argue that the privilege of working with myself should be payment enough.”

“That doesn’t exactly pay for food on the table.” I shot back instinctively. Something about this woman just pisses me off to no end, and yet, the blonde seemed to sometimes enjoy it whenever I talked back. Sometimes being the keyword here, as she would also sometimes be a complete bitch whenever I do so.

That wouldn’t stop me from telling her what I think about her though, even if she could realistically kill me.

This time, Barielle looked to be the former, as she only smirked as she opened her fan to cover it up, “You would be able to pay for food if you didn’t hire these street rats to work for you.” Oh, nevermind, she’s still an absolute bitch. I forgot that she just liked targeting Felt at every opportunity.

“Listen here, you pompous-” The smaller blonde started, only to get cut off by a sudden increase in the wind outside, followed by thumps impacting the roof of the building. Peering through the window, I could see palm sized chunks of hail hitting the ground outside. Everyone still out and about were darting for cover, hands held up to their heads as they did so.

“My, isn’t it fortunate that I found your shop when I did, Hikigaya?” Barielle’s smug tone grated in my ears.

"Yeah, real lucky." I muttered. Honestly, I should have expected something like that to happen when she was involved.

Felt was still fuming, her hands curled into fists at her sides. If looks could kill, Priscilla Barielle would be a smear of expensive fabric on the shop floor. Unfortunately, life wasn't that accommodating.

"Fix the damn shoe, Boss." She hissed, her glare flickering between me and the noblewoman lounging like she owned the place. Which, knowing her, she probably assumed she did.

With a sigh, I pulled a length of sturdy thread from a drawer, along with a needle thick enough to work through the leather. "This isn't exactly my specialty, you know." I grumbled, threading the needle with slow, deliberate motions. I could have fixed this with my magic, but I didn't want to do so in front of Barielle, "If it falls apart in five steps, don't blame me."

"Oh? But I would blame you." Barielle said smoothly, settling into one of the chairs by the counter as though the world outside wasn't currently being pelted by ice, "A craftsman should take pride in his work, should he not? Even the lowliest blacksmith must have his standards."

I didn't bother looking up, "You're mistaking 'pride' for 'miracles.' If you wanted something that wouldn't break, you should've bought better shoes."

"Hmph." She sipped at a cup of tea she had absolutely not been offered. Where had she even gotten that? "One does not select their shoes based on their durability alone. Elegance is far more important than longevity."

"Yeah, well, let's see how elegant you look when you slip on your ass in the ice outside." Felt snapped.

Aldebaran, to his credit, wisely kept his mouth shut. His helmeted head tilted slightly, though, and I got the feeling he was smiling behind that visor.

I finished stitching the strap and tied it off with a practiced flick of my fingers, "There. Good as new, or at least, good enough." I handed the shoe back to Aldebaran, who took it with a nod before crouching down to slip it onto Barielle's foot. She extended her leg with the practiced grace of someone who was used to being served, her expression as unbothered as ever.

"My thanks." She said, which was surprising in itself, "You have performed adequately."

I narrowed my eyes, "I'll add that glowing praise to my collection."

Barielle merely smirked, fanning herself as Aldebaran finished buckling the strap. Before the gladiator could straighten, however, the sound of the wind outside silenced. The change was so abrupt even Barielle blinked in surprise.

Then came the knocking. Three sharp raps against the door, deliberate and calm. A pattern I know all too well.

I didn't move, "We’re closed." I called out flatly.

The door opened anyway.

Crusch Karsten stepped inside, her cloak heavy with melting hail.

I groaned audibly. Great. Another fucking headache.

…

A/N: Depending on my workload next two weeks, I might have to delay chapters. Sorry about that in advance!