PDCOO Chapter 7

Beneath hair black as darkness, blue eyes shone ominously.

The wolf, finally facing its target, growled as well...

"Should we go help? With him in front of it, I can't tell if that's a wolf or a dog."

The wolf, which had been imposing at first, clearly showed signs of tension as Bertram drew closer and closer. If it clashed with that build, even a wolf would not escape unharmed.

But the wolf did not give up its hunger or pride—

...And that became the wolf's final moment.

Bertram simply kicked away the wolf blocking his path.

"Gyaaang!"

The wolf fluttered through the air like a flag.

Bertram ran in a straight line without stopping.

While the uncles' dumbfounded gazes followed the wolf, Dieter's eyes tracked Bertram to the end, and seeing the corn-silk-like blonde hair fluttering from within the fur cloak, he shouted.

"Anna!"

Bertram and Anna on his back grew distant in an instant. Dieter desperately chased after them, shouting.

"Hurry! Th-that bastard kidnapped Anna!"

"What are you talking about! Hey, hey!"

"You son of a bitch, stop!"

Though his steps were slower than Bertram's, Dieter's voice alone rang out across the entire village. People opened their doors one by one, then flinched back at the shadow of the bear crossing the country road.

Dieter shouted in frustration.

"Catch him already! Anna's been kidnapped!"

"Kidnapped? Where to?"

"W-well—"

He had nothing to say.

Bertram was heading deeper and deeper into the village.

Finally, when Dieter had succeeded in waking half the village, Bertram arrived at the restaurant. Karlah came out with a deeply furrowed face, then looked flustered when she saw Bertram.

"What is all this? Hm?"

"I have brought Miss Anna."

Bertram untied the cloak knot. Only then was Anna, who had been wrapped in the fur cloak bundle on his back, released.

"Miss Anna, you have arrived home."

Anna raised her head.

What she could recognize even in the spinning world was her mother's bewildered face, Bertram's expressionless one, and the villagers peering over the fence.

"Ha... Ahahahahaha..."

"Oh my, the symptoms seem to remain. Madam Karlah, water—"

"I'm laughing because I'm so frustrated!"

As Anna weakly kicked Bertram's thigh, Bertram wiped Anna's face with his fur cloak.

It was the first and worst escort experience of her life.

Various conversations seemed to continue at the restaurant after that.

"Seemed," because Anna could not resist the final symptom of "drowsiness."

Karlah supported Anna and threw her onto her room's bed, muttering.

"Dean, that bastard. What dangerous thing did he do without acting his age?"

Dean would be Mother's friend, but why was his name coming up? Mom, aren't you angry at Mister Bertram?

But there was no chance to ask.

Anna fell asleep, and when she finally opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was the old ceiling where morning shadows flickered.

She had returned to everyday life.

'I really thought I was going to die yesterday.'

She rubbed her eyes and eye crust crumbled down. Anna vaguely recalled yesterday's events. Seeing how she had cried and laughed like a madwoman, there must have been poisonous mushrooms in the cooking Bertram made.

But worry came before irritation.

'Mister Bertram must have added them without knowing. Mom's not trying to skin him alive, is she? He tried to save me in his own way!'

He had wrapped Anna in his fur cloak and run carrying her, and when Anna vomited from motion sickness, he stopped to pat her back and wipe her face. Seeing that the symptoms did not disappear, he had Anna cling to his back, then wrapped the cloak like a bundle and ran all the way to the village in one go.

'It's the first time I've been carried piggyback since becoming an adult. It was really uncomfortable. Are all men's backs like that?'

Too broad to find anywhere to hold, and hard to lean against.

But he had been attentive to everything happening behind him. Every time Anna hiccupped while crying and laughing, he stopped to soothe her.

It had not helped much, but it was certainly action born from goodwill.

'Would telling Mom this make her see Mister Bertram favorably?'

Worst case: she had already killed and skinned him.

Best case: she had driven him from the village with kind words.

Hoping for the second option, Anna stepped out of her room and entered the restaurant.

An unexpected scene greeted Anna.

In the corner of the restaurant, a bear-like man was preparing onions.

It was Bertram.

He noticed Anna's gaze first.

"Good morning."

"Good... morning."

After delivering a morning greeting that seemed learned and memorized, he focused on the onions again.

Arm muscles far too sturdy for onion work pounded the cutting board. The tendons rising on the back of his hand when he tilted the cutting board were thick as tree roots. As Anna stared at the sight in a daze, Karlah shouted.

"Hey, Anna! What are you staring at like an idiot?"

"Mom... Why is Mister Bertram in the kitchen?"

"You threw up on him last night, didn't you? I told him I'd wash his clothes, so stay here until they dry. Damn, that cloak will take three days to dry properly."

Only then did Anna realize what Bertram was wearing. It was something Hans had worn in life—two shirts sewn together, closer to a temporary cloth covering the body than actual clothing.

He could not go to another village looking like that.

Anna pressed close to her mother and whispered.

"Mom, weren't you trying to chase him away yesterday?"

"I was. If my daughter hadn't vomited on his clothes, I would have sent him packing immediately."

"...I didn't do it on purpose."

"I know. You know my friend Dean, right? That bastard deliberately fed him Jester's Cap mushrooms. Said he didn't like some suspicious man loitering around our village. The guy suffered because of our people, so I can't just throw him out."

Karlah's finger spun in the air, then poked Anna's forehead. Poke.

"Besides, my daughter seems determined to feed him, even chasing after him to do it. If you're going to do that anyway, better to keep him where I can see him."

"It's not like that!"

"Fine. At least he stopped bringing up the debt. He listens when you ask him to do things."

"How is having to give orders an advantage?"

"Says the daughter who doesn't listen to her mother. Go wash your face before you become more useless than him!"

Karlah bonked Anna on the head and stood up.

But Anna did not rise immediately. She stared blankly at the restaurant kitchen.

Her reclaimed daily life. And one black-clad man who had slipped into it as naturally as if he had always been there.

He noticed her gaze and even waved one hand.

With that expressionless face, it was rather frightening.

'Is he trying to be friendly, or is he saying "I saw you throw up"?'

Despite her suspicions, Anna waved back.

Bertram folded his other fingers and stuck up his thumb.

Anna laughed despite herself.

Having apparently completed his task, Bertram nodded and turned his attention back to the cutting board. On either side of it sat piles of the spicy seasonings Karlah hated preparing. Bertram sliced hot peppers without complaint.

No grumbling or dissatisfaction despite doing all manner of odd jobs.

Suddenly calling people "Lady," going on about honor.

"What on earth is he, really...?"

While Anna pondered Bertram's identity.

Anna's mother, Karlah, was sharing similar thoughts with her friend.

"What do you think of these clothes? They're that bastard's."

Karlah held out a shirt to her friend Collie, who had come to visit. Collie, a seamstress, reached for it and her eyes widened at the texture.

"Oh my, what is this?"

"What's wrong?"

"I'm amazed you're calling these rags clothes."

"Goodness, you scared me."

"No, you should be more surprised."

Collie grinned and spread out the shirt.

The pale ivory shirt was covered with rough mending marks. At first glance, it looked like something only real beggars would wear.

Collie pointed to the shirt collar.

"See this? A date embroidered here?"

"Embroidery? Does he have money to waste?"

"Exactly. This was definitely a shirt someone with money had carefully tailored. It's become rags from wearing it too long, but if it had been some homemade shirt, only threads would be left by now."

"Well, isn't that ridiculous."

Karlah clicked her tongue loudly.

His fur cloak had not seemed ordinary either. When Anna tried to scrub out the vomit stains at the stream, rubbing it roughly against stones and lathering it with soap, it had not been damaged at all. Light for its size, and it dried quickly too. Three days nothing—if things went well, he might be wearing it and leaving tomorrow.

Collie seemed to sense Karlah's anxiety. She rolled up the shirt, handed it back, and asked.

"Worried some strange man will latch onto your daughter?"

"Of course. I've gotten used to the stragglers who can't go home after the war, but I don't even know what this one is...."

"For someone worried, you let him into the restaurant quite easily. Did your heart soften when he brought your sick daughter home all flustered?"

"Am I crazy? Better to have him where I can see him than wandering around the village. If he tries anything, I'll slice him with the cleaver immediately."

"Hmm, I wonder what he really is. Judging by the clothes, he might be a noble."

"Then I'll kill him before he tries anything."

Karlah's eyes flashed.

"Those noble bastards coming down to the countryside, getting innocent country girls pregnant and leaving—I won't see that happen again."

Translator Rant: I'm calling it now, Karlah's probably that 'innocent girl'. Explains that anger/bitterness.