Chapter 15: An Unexpected Connection (1)
Hierarchy existed everywhere in the world.
This didn't just refer to kings, nobles, and commoners.
Just as males had a tendency to establish a pecking order even when only two gathered, humans often showed similar behaviors.
The world of beggars was no different.
“What, why is it so little!”
“W-well, my leg hurt, so I rested a bit……”
“Isn’t it better if your leg is hurt? You look pitiful, so shouldn’t you be able to get more money!”
The man threatening the injured beggar was Ralph.
He was a figure with mediocre abilities in every aspect.
He was sturdy but lacked the guts to be a proper thug, and wasn't stupid but not enough to pursue academics.
Of course, even with just that, he could have made a decent living if he worked hard, but the problem was that this man named Ralph was incredibly lazy.
All he did was gamble, drink, and chase women.
The funds to support this were earned through pickpocketing and running errands for thugs.
The reason he entered the world of beggars was nothing special.
It was because here, he could become a superior person.
It was only natural.
They were losers in life, people who were significantly lacking somewhere compared to ordinary folk.
Among such individuals, someone like Ralph, who could throw his weight around a bit and had a loud voice, could reign as a very fine predator.
‘Sure. Can’t I handle these cripples?’
He quickly unified the beggars of Marzen with some idle friends.
Difficulties? Obstacles?
There were none.
Just a few threats like now were enough to make the beggars tremble and offer their money.
Although they put up a cool title like ‘Vigilante group working hard for the socially vulnerable,’ in reality, they did nothing.
They started earning money sitting down, doing absolutely nothing.
Of course, the beggars didn't want this.
Their lives were already hard, living day to day, so where would they find money to give to others?
If they had such money, they would have bought another piece of black bread.
To them, today's meal was more important than tomorrow's safety.
However, such complaints quickly subsided when Ralph's gang used force.
It couldn't be helped.
The fist was closer and more terrifying than the worry about the next meal.
Eventually, from then on, all beggars came to recognize him as the ‘Beggar Boss’.
That's right.
The reason the young beggar stopped Harang was out of concern that he would get beaten up for continuing to beg without the Boss' permission.
“Alright, next…… Hm? Haven't seen this one before?”
Harang, still not fully understanding the ‘rules of the beggars,’ stood before Ralph.
He had no choice.
According to the young beggar, Glen's words, Ralph's gang was closer to oppressing them rather than protecting them, so he couldn't accept why he had to pay money.
However, while contemplating this, his turn arrived, and Harang decided to just go with the flow.
‘If I don't like it, I can just back out then.’
More importantly, he was still very interested in the existence called ‘beggar’.
Not even a full day had passed since he gained enlightenment watching the old beggar's begging.
Perhaps he could gain even more by living among the beggars.
Nodding, Harang looked straight at the Beggar Boss.
At that cheeky and insolent demeanor, Ralph was about to frown, but a somewhat sorrowful emotion struck his chest.
‘……Why does this kid look so pitiful?’
It was strange.
For a beggar, his physique was sturdy, and his posture was straight.
His gaze, looking directly at him, wasn't dull like the others but rather clear.
Yet, strangely, he felt a sense of pity. He felt the urge to take care of him.
It was because Harang’s ‘act of pretending to be low’ had worked perfectly, but Ralph was completely unaware of this.
“H-he’s a newbie.”
“A newbie?”
“Yes, yes. I found him begging today, so I brought him right away. If he begs comfortably without properly knowing how much hardship our Boss, who takes responsibility for our beggars’ safety, goes through, wouldn’t his habits become bad? So here……”
Glen, the young beggar who brought Harang, took out copper coins from between his dirty clothes.
A small amount of money. But for a beggar, it was precious money that made his hands tremble.
He tried to hand it over with a forced smile, but Ralph, after glancing at Harang once, uttered surprising words.
“Forget it. It’s his first day, let’s let it slide today.”
“Pardon? Huh?”
“Is this brat deaf! I said I’ll let it slide for today!”
“Ah! Thank you! Boss, you should say thank you too, Boss!”
“……Thank you?”
“Yeah. It’s because you look so pitiful…… Don’t misunderstand. Starting tomorrow, there’s no mercy. Got it? Alright, next!”
With those words, the Boss called for the next beggar.
After bowing repeatedly to him, the surrounding beggars watched Glen and Harang leave the line and whispered in surprise.
“No way, that money-grubber refused a tribute?”
“I know, right? He’s a vicious bastard who’d even shake down a snot-nosed kid for 1 Cooper……”
“But, I kinda get it. That young man is somehow……”
“……Right. Something, something something.”
“Exactly. Hard to put into words…… but yeah. Kinda feel sorry for him.”
“How did he end up becoming a beggar……”
“Does he have food? Should I share some of my black bread?”
The beggars gathered for the tribute were also affected by Harang’s ‘act of pretending to be low.’
Normally, they would have shot looks of anger and envy at someone receiving special treatment alone, but the atmosphere emanating from Harang’s body was so pitiful that no one did.
They merely sent gazes of pity, as if dealing with a being far beneath them.
Glen was the same.
Although Harang was dull to others' emotions, he wasn't completely oblivious.
Despite being younger than him, this young beggar considered him someone he needed to take care of.
However, if asked whether his attitude was the same as the other beggars, it was not.
“That’s a relief, Boss. We got through without any trouble.”
“Really?”
“Yes! We were lucky today. Maybe something good happened to the Boss!”
A smile that seemed to come genuinely from the heart.
Someone who moved for others, and rejoiced as if it were their own success when others did well.
He was a rare existence.
At least, in Harang’s experience, that was the case.
“…….”
“What’s wrong? Is there something on my face?”
“There is, but……”
Harang pointed to his left cheek, and Glen wiped his right cheek.
Harang shook his head and pointed to the other side, whereupon the boy rubbed his cheek with his left sleeve, and only then did the dirty dust come off.
Glen smiled and said.
“Thank you, Boss!”
“Mm.”
Watching the young beggar show a pure, untainted smile, Harang thought.
Different in nature from the old beggar, but this kid was also strange somehow.
* * *
A week had passed since Harang started living amongst the group of beggars.
Regrettably, he hadn't met the old beggar during that time.
Recalling the old man who didn't appear, almost as if he knew Harang was looking for him, as if deliberately hiding himself, Harang could only smack his lips in disappointment.
Of course, that didn't mean the beggar life yielded no benefits.
Just like right now.
Harang carefully observed a beggar begging a short distance away from him.
“Oh dear, kind sirs…… Spare just a penny……”
He continued speaking in a dying voice, a subtle volume not loud enough to irritate the nerves but not so soft as to be inaudible.
His posture was low, stuck as close to the ground as possible, and his half-open palm facing the sky trembled pitifully.
Clang, when a hand occasionally offered alms, he lifted his head, and the glimpse of his expression couldn't look more pitiful.
‘The level of detail is different.’
He was an expert.
Although not comparable to the old beggar, that middle-aged beggar possessed skills that could certainly qualify him as a master of begging.
Unlike himself, who artificially scattered an atmosphere suitable for ‘pretending to be low,’ the middle-aged beggar succeeded in lowering himself by maximally utilizing actions and expressions that 'allowed the opponent to look down on him'.
That created a gap in the other person's heart and led to alms.
‘In swordsmanship, in surprise attacks, how should this be applied?’
Alms and combat.
At first glance, they were two completely different fields, but Harang lacked fixed ideas and prejudices.
His untainted brain converted the beggar's techniques into fighting techniques one by one.
The trembling hand became the quivering tip of an exhausted swordsman's blade.
The unbearably pitiful expression became gasping breathlessness as if coughing up lungs from exhaustion, and a weary complexion.
As he digested every single action in his own way, his proficiency in pretending to be low developed much faster than imagined.
He also felt slightly displeased. Because the words of the Head Village Manager, which he considered one of the few incorrect teachings, turned out to be right again this time.
‘……I’ll think about that man later.’
What he learned through the beggars wasn't limited to that.
They were also top-notch in figuring out opponents, specifically, in understanding their psychology.
“Those folks won’t do.”
“That side is okay. At least the atmosphere isn't one where we’ll get beaten, so let’s try being more proactive.”
“Those people! Those people are the jackpot…… Ah, looks like I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Someone else got them first.”
Glen's assessments of the passersby poured out.
Listening to it, Harang felt his perspective on aspects he hadn't considered suddenly open up wide.
The strategic battles in combat he had thought of until now were closer to the concepts of real and feint moves, deception, and the insight to see through them.
Like looking upwards to induce the opponent to defend their upper body, or forcing oneself to swallow blood to hide weakness.
However, the beggars' observation skills weren't like that.
They possessed senses more sensitive than anyone else's when it came to grasping others' psychology, specifically their 'emotional' state.
Who was in a good mood.
Who was excited, who was full of anger inside. Who paid attention to them, and who didn't care about them. Were they favorable, or hostile.
Through such information, the beggars calculated with astonishing accuracy the probability of who wouldn't harm them, and beyond that, who might pull a coin from their pocket.
‘Grasp the opponent's disposition, temperament, and mood, and predict the next actions that could arise based on those emotions. That is, grasp the tendencies according to emotional states.’
Harang applied this to combat as well.
If a person with a fiery temperament, or someone who just experienced something emotionally charged, faced an enemy, how would they act?
Conversely, what about a very calm and cautious person? Or someone who treats everything lightly like a joke? How were each of these individuals likely to react?
‘This is important. If I plan the game considering this aspect, I can make things more difficult for the opponent, and lead the battle in a direction that makes them uncomfortable.’
It felt like another layer of data for analyzing the opponent had been added.
Harang became deeply immersed in this, always keeping his eyes wide open to learn the beggars' knack for reading people.
Perhaps if the discomfort in his heart hadn't been there, he might have continued the beggar life for another fortnight, or even a month.
Yes. If only there hadn't been discomfort.
Which meant.
“I plan to quit.”
“Huh? Boss? What did you say?”
Seeing Harang declare confidently, Glen wore a bewildered expression.