It was a tavern-inn that stayed in business because its fried fish and beer set was one pinier cheaper than the places nearby. The main customers were mercenaries, sailors, and factory workers who earned just enough each day to eat that day. Even by a country bumpkin’s standards, it was filthy, stinking, and cheap. In other words, it was the kind of place “important people” would hate and call vulgar.
“How much does this weigh?”
He still looked young, like the word “young master” had been turned into a person. A frock coat and a waistcoat, buttons made of pure white ivory, a tall hat trimmed with beaver fur. Maybe it was because his face was even more splendid than his clothes that the flashy outfit didn’t look awkward on him. Or maybe it was because his attitude didn’t get crushed by the clothes.
It even suited him—those white stockings below the knee.
He was someone who couldn’t possibly exist in a tavern of an inn that sold stew kept boiling nonstop with whatever happened to get tossed in at the moment, soggy fried fish that had been sitting in oil, and the cheapest ale that made you wonder if they’d scraped up only the dregs from the bottom of the beer barrel. To the point that calling it an illusion would have been more convincing, the boy was unreal.
When the customers who were always yelling suddenly shut their mouths as if they’d eaten expensive honey, I flicked my eyes sideways at the owner.
For a moment, I wondered if he’d suddenly lost his mind and kidnapped some noble boy.
Surprisingly, the owner had his head bowed deep. With his arms—usually thrown around showing off lumpy biceps—gathered neatly together, in an extremely polite posture. It was obvious he was afraid of the boy in front of him.
Most of the customers had their eyes gleaming like something interesting had happened. It was almost strange that their ears weren’t standing straight up.
But some customers were stiffening their faces instead. What showed on their expressions was unmistakable anxiety.
The ironic thing was that the ones who were afraid of that bright, lovely boy were the tough guys of this area. Just a moment ago, tough guy #2—who’d been drunk out of his mind and smashing his head into the table—could be seen muttering, “Eek, d-dominant Alpha……” and then quickly covering his own mouth and plastering himself to the wall.
Alpha? Alpha male? A top male?
I blinked. Everything I was seeing looked like some ridiculous comedy show.
“Are gold coins difficult?”
He spoke to me again. It was a voice that should have sounded awkward, like he was imitating an adult. But the condescension coming from him, still a boy, was simply natural.
I realized it late. The VIP I’d only ever heard about in rumors was standing right in front of me.
I’d hoped a day like this would come for me someday, but I’d never thought it would really happen.
I’d once picked up a story about a noble who supposedly selected smart kids, took them away, fed them and clothed them and let them sleep, made them study, and even got them jobs. It was a story that drifted around like the “hope” version of an urban legend. No one claimed to have seen it themselves, and everyone just said they’d heard it somewhere.
Some people praised that noble’s mercy. Some people sneered that it was nothing but useless false hope, and how could anyone know what the real intention was. Since both sides were drunks, a fight naturally broke out.
While tables flew and dishes rolled across the floor, the one person who still had some kind of clear mind jumped into the fight.
『It’s something His Highness the Prince is doing, you know?』
It was a spell that stopped the fight.
Even the prime minister and the king were people whose popularity had hit rock bottom. You could tell why just by looking at the people who crowded into Billy’s tavern for the simple reason that it was one coin cheaper. The reason was simple. Because it was hard to live.
Maybe as a counterbalance, the king’s young younger brother—the Prince—was strangely popular. I guessed the biggest reason was that he had no real power to directly interfere in state affairs. Since he hadn’t done anything, there was nothing to get cursed for.
And on top of that, when warm rumors like that got added, maybe it was only natural that people living hopeless days would end up clinging to even a futile dream.
I wasn’t an exception.
I let most of the customers’ drunken talk slide off, but that time, even though it wasn’t a story about numbers, I couldn’t help but listen.
When I first heard the rumor about the Prince, I’d wanted to grab hold of something called hope. The nauseating scene of a dirty tavern was my present, and it was my future, too. I wanted to escape the obvious road ahead. I wanted to eat like a person, dress like a person, and sleep in a room that looked like a human being’s room. So I’d strained my ears to the drunks’ hard-to-understand talk.
I’d even run simulations of what I should do if I got lucky and met the Prince. I knew it was an extremely low-probability thing. It might have been nothing but an insubstantial rumor. But if I didn’t do even that much, I felt like I’d truly fall into despair.
That dream was standing in front of me like a lie.
I didn’t know why the VIP did that sort of thing. But the reason wasn’t what mattered to me right now. Whether it was a bored noble’s “lower-class experience,” or an undergrown young master’s “alley boss game,” it wasn’t something I needed to distinguish.
Even after the mainstream of the jewelry market moved to Cheongdam, there were still big spenders who came looking for Jongno. They were customers I couldn’t afford to lose. Reviving that desperate feeling and sales mindset from back then, I accepted the gold coin he handed me.
No—this was a far more desperate moment than back then. In Jongno, at worst, it ended with losing a customer. Of course that was a painful loss, but it still wasn’t a matter that gambled my present and future, my life itself.
“I’ve never touched a gold coin before.”
It wasn’t a lie. It was the first time I’d seen a 1-heni gold coin. In an inn where people bickered even over a single fairy tale, one heni was too large a unit.
Still, I could guess the weight from the size. Gold’s density is 19.30g/cm³. Under a gold standard, if currency was to have value, its purity had to be at least over 90%. That’s on Earth. I didn’t know exactly how it was here, but I didn’t think it would be very different. And if this gold coin’s purity was over 90%, it would be normal for it to weigh around 8g.
“Is that so?”
I could feel the interest draining from his answering voice. I slowly inhaled, then exhaled again. As if looking into the future, I gauged what I had to say and what answer would come back. A single moment passed, long as a lifetime. I opened my mouth again.
“Is gold heavier than silver?”
“Yeah.”
At the question that confirmed a fact, he showed interest again. That was a good sign.
“Then I can tell that for something this size to be all gold, it’s too light. If a normal gold coin’s purity is over 90%, that is.”
Copper’s density is 8.94g/cm³. For the same volume, gold has more than twice the weight of copper. Lowering the purity and filling the volume with cheap metal is a common method of coin counterfeiting. It was also something you always had to watch out for when trading gold. It would be obvious if you scratched it on a touchstone, but I held back at this point. Showing off too much knowledge would only make me look suspicious.
He looked at me with curious eyes. What happened next depended entirely on that young master’s will.
“I want to try teaching you. What do you think?”
The moment he made the offer, the tavern was suddenly swallowed by cheers. I didn’t even have time to show a reaction.
“Prince! You are the Prince, right?”
Some even fearlessly tried to confirm a noble’s identity,
“Wow, you little punk, you’re really moving up in the world!”
and they pounded my back hard with excited slaps, spraying spit. They clinked beer mugs among themselves and gulped them down, too. It was completely a festival mood.
“What benefit can I obtain if I accept His Highness the Prince’s offer?”
My question was like throwing cold water onto a festival. The noisy tavern went so quiet it felt like you could hear the fizz popping out of flat ale.
“That crazy bastard……!”
“Please forgive him, Your Highness. He’s too young, so he can’t tell what he’s doing.”
I was surprised that there was someone who could speak with a decent amount of formality, but people were turning pale and were busy making excuses that weren’t quite excuses to the Prince.
Just as the one who caused the cheers was the Prince, the one who calmed the confusion was also the Prince.
“You’ll gain a job that can earn money. If you properly learn what I teach you.”
The instant the Prince finished speaking, a sigh of relief burst out. Everyone except me had the same reaction. I, on the contrary, tensed up.
The others seemed reassured that he had answered instead of telling them to punish me, but I focused on the fact that he had mentioned money. It seemed he knew well that child labor in this era was carried out unpaid under the pretext of providing food and lodging. I realized it wasn’t that some ignorant young master was playing a pointless charity game.
“Anything else you’re curious about?”
“What benefit does His Highness the Prince gain by taking me in?”
Again, the others reacted before I could.
“Is that bastard really insane?”
“Your Highness the Prince, please, mercy……!”
There was even someone who, without knowing who they were begging, just made groaning sounds like, “Oh, oh,” as if sick. It was when I was watching that chaos like it was someone else’s problem.
“Ugh……!”
A groan slipped out of my mouth without me meaning to. Someone kicked behind my knee and forced me down. A brutal hand pressed my shoulder and head down.
“Stop.”
At the sound of the Prince’s voice, the hand that had been about to grind me into the floor froze.
I barely shook that hand off and got back up. When I glanced back, the one who had pinned me was Billy. The shoulders that were usually spread wide were hunched in tight, trembling.
I realized a little late that the voices of the people who’d been shouting however they pleased had abruptly cut off. Because a loud thud echoed. The sound of people dropping to their knees all at once.
They were sprawled on the dirty tavern floor, full of every kind of grime, bowing their heads. Like I had been when Billy pressed me down.
The only ones still standing where they were were the Prince—and me.