IWTGHFW CHAPTER 7

Episode 7

[I’m an Office Worker Who Plays the Flute]

“What do you mean? What did they do to you over there?”

As soon as we got back to the office, Ron grabbed my shoulder firmly.

Ow.

When I winced, Ron quickly let go and apologized in a fluster. He’s ridiculously fast with apologies—would be nice if he didn’t make situations where he needed to apologize in the first place.

“They just offered me a scout position.”

“Scout?”

“They asked if I’d consider joining the Audit Team. Said the audit results were too perfect.”

I wasn’t bragging. I just wanted some acknowledgment for all the work I put in, but Ron’s expression turned strangely serious.

“So, what did you say?”

“I told them I’d think about it. Honestly, it’s a good offer.”

“Well, yeah, that’s true…”

Ron’s brows drooped, and he closed his mouth. Maybe it was to avoid looking like a rain-soaked puppy—but in his case, more like a large-breed dog.

…Kind of cute, though.

Wait, what?

What part of that big body is cute?

“Ail. That…”

“What?”

“…Never mind. You did well with the audit prep. You can head home early today.”

What’s with him? A minute ago he was hounding me about reimbursement deadlines.

I’m not someone who lets opportunities slip.

The second he finished speaking, I grabbed my bag, bowed, and made for the door. Ron gave me a baffled look.

You said I could leave early, right?

With a deep sigh and a you’re always like this expression, Ron waved me off. He looked a little conflicted, but whatever.

“Ail, is it true you’re transferring to the Audit Team?”

The person who came to see me first thing in the morning was, unexpectedly, Reinolf. His short blond hair was damp with sweat, plastered to his face—probably from morning training.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“So you did get a scout offer.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

But what does that have to do with you?

Maybe my face showed exactly what I was thinking, because he scratched his cheek awkwardly.

“I… I know I avoided punishment thanks to you this time. Thank you.”

“Uh-huh. As long as you know.”

I replied flatly and nodded.

He should be thankful. Obviously.

Skipping out without permission wasn’t a one-time thing for him—it was habitual. And if it came out that he frequented bars like it was his own home, there was no way he could’ve escaped disciplinary action.

I swept that all under the rug for him, so from his perspective, I was basically a savior.

The problem was, Reinolf was never the kind of guy to say thank you out of politeness.

Did he eat something weird?

He actually frowned just then. If he threw up here, that would be the worst.

“I have something to tell you, Ail.”

“Go ahead.”

Just don’t throw up. I didn’t say it aloud, but maybe my sour expression made him ease his frown a little.

“Can you not go to the Audit Team?”

“Why?”

At my question, Reinolf hesitated and lowered his gaze. His ridiculously long lashes cast a pretty shadow under his eyes.

Seen like this, Reinolf really was handsome. If he didn’t act like such a jerk, I could’ve appreciated his face more objectively—he looked like the textbook definition of a medieval knightly beauty.

Looking somewhat dejected, he spoke.

“I know I’ve treated you poorly. I also know I hurt you a lot because of it. I apologize.”

“…It’s not like I was particularly hurt…”

“It may sound like an excuse, but if I said I had a reason, would you believe me?”

“That’s really not important—”

“My younger brother, two years my junior, works at Carrie’s Bar.”

Huh?

I stopped, annoyed that he kept cutting me off.

So you drank yourself silly every night at the bar where your brother works? Is that supposed to be a brag?

My expression must have said Seriously?, because he shook his head quickly.

“My so-called mother sold my brother to Carrie’s Bar.”

“…That’s illegal under national law.”

“But you know how it is—these things still happen in secret.”

Uh, no. I didn’t know. I’d only been here a month. How was I supposed to know about that? In fact, I hadn’t even left the palace grounds since I arrived.

But I couldn’t exactly explain my whole backstory, and since Ail is supposed to be from a commoner background, it made sense he’d know. So I stayed quiet. He must have taken my silence as confirmation, because he continued with a grave look.

“That was exactly ten years ago.”

What? Wait. Ten years ago?!

There are parents who would sell their own child? Why?

Because they needed money? Because they were dirt poor? But could any reason really justify selling your child?

Somewhere along the way, I’d gotten caught up in his story and felt myself bristle.

“That’s terrible. No matter the reason, it’s unforgivable.”

“Yes. You’re right. That’s why I’m very wary of women. If I hadn’t been working at an inn at the time, the one sold off would’ve been me, not my brother. That’s why I treated you badly. I’m sorry.”

And the story didn’t end there.

He told me his brother started with menial labor at the bar and eventually became a regular worker.

That being a “worker” was really no different from being a slave, with monthly quotas to meet—if you failed, you’d get beaten like a dog.

That to help his brother meet those quotas, he frequented Carrie’s Bar every day.

That he’d been trying to save up to buy his brother’s freedom, which is why he’d tried to slip bar tabs into the guard’s expense reports even though he knew it wouldn’t work.

It was the kind of tearful tale that tugged at the heartstrings. I might have spent my life chasing money like a madwoman dreaming of becoming a rich bum, but I wasn’t heartless.

I pressed my palm to my eyes to hide the redness welling there, and Reinolf patted my shoulder as if to say it was okay.

I’d thought he treated me badly because I was a commoner and treated Mien better because she was a noble. But thinking back, he was rude to both of us.

He only used an honorific with “Miss Mien” because she was a noblewoman—he didn’t openly fawn over her like some knights did. It was just that, lumped together among the other knights, it looked like favoritism.

Yeah. You shouldn’t judge people by appearances.

I corrected my opinion of Reinolf—from drunken punk knight to loyal older brother.

‘But what does that have to do with me?’

Once the lump in my throat subsided, the core question finally came to me. His tragic backstory was one thing, but how was that connected to me not transferring?

Reinolf seemed to realize I’d caught on, and gave a sheepish smile.

“One more year. In just one year, I can save enough to bring my brother back.”

Then he glanced away.

Oh, so this is about me keeping those bar tabs off the books.

If I leave and someone new takes over, who knows what will happen—so he wants me to stay and keep covering it up.

So that’s it, huh?

My tears vanished in an instant. As transparent as glass—still a shameless guy after all.

‘This isn’t all a lie, right?’

In the working world, you meet all kinds of nutcases. Some even make up fake sob stories to scam people.

Reinolf’s earnest face didn’t seem like a lie… but then again, con artists are great actors.

“I don’t know what’ll happen.”

“Ail…”

“Could you move? I’m busy.”

He stepped aside quickly with an apology, and I walked past without looking at him. I felt like I’d just been smacked in the back of the head.

Like when you go to a university interview, a senior showers you with tips that make you go Wow!—and then starts talking about religion.

If what Reinolf said was true, I could understand his motives. But understanding it in my head didn’t make my foul mood go away.

And right now, my mood was very foul.

Mien, back at work after a while, handed me a box of chocolates, saying I’d worked hard. I stared at it until she added that her hometown was famous for cocoa beans.

“Cocoa…”

Ah. Made me want to open Kak**Talk and vent to a friend about what just happened. Secret chatting during work hours is the best.

Feeling gloomy, I unwrapped one chocolate and popped it in my mouth.

…Delicious.

Close to lunchtime, someone knocked on the office door. When I opened it, Ron stood there looking oddly awkward.

“What’s with you, Captain?”

“What do you mean? I was here yesterday too.”

“No, I mean—since when do you knock?”

“Ahem. Knocking is basic courtesy.”

That courtesy you’ve never observed until now?

I gave him a seriously? look, and he averted his eyes.

With a couple of throat-clears, Ron looked back at me, wearing a sheepish expression.

“If you’ve got time, let’s grab lunch.”

“…Me?”

“Who else? You think I’d ask Miss Mien? Why would I?”

I can think of no reason you’d ask me, either.

Maybe my face showed just how unenthused I was, because Ron laughed loudly and slapped me on the shoulder to break the awkwardness. His cauldron-sized hand on my delicate frame made my legs wobble like a newborn giraffe.

“As thanks for your work, I’ll treat you to something nice.”

Ow. It hurt. He might think it’s a sign of camaraderie, but it still hurt.

I sighed and glanced at Mien. She didn’t even look over, just kept gazing into her mirror.

Sensing my gaze, she met my eyes.

Mien. Want to come with—

Before I could finish, she waved her hand lightly.

“I’ll hold down the office. You go ahead.”

…And that was the end of that.

I wanted to be the one holding down the office!

“Can you not go to the Audit Team?”

Was there some kind of bet today on Who Can Stop Ail From Leaving?

It was starting to feel that way. First Reinolf, now Ron. Reinolf’s motives were clear enough, but what was Ron’s?