WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Hydrogen B

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 176: A Story of the Past, military-run host bar

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"Captain. What is it that you want?"

It was the first thing Sephier, indisputably the richest person in the military state, said after getting Captain AB alone.

It was an abrupt question, but AB, seated stiffly upright, answered dutifully.

"Query. This officer does not understand what you mean."

"Ah, I'm asking what you want from Master. What could it possibly be that makes Master want to help you so thoroughly, in every possible way?"

Sephier spoke leisurely as she poured black tea into a cup. A sweet fragrance spread through the small dining room as the tea flowed. Amid the soft sound of liquid swirling into the cup, the captain hesitated before answering.

"...A marriage registration."

Drip.

The black tea filled the cup, then spilled over the rim in streams. The captain hurriedly said,

"Seamless Perfection, the black tea is spilling."

"No. I am not flustered at all."

"Negative. This officer did not ask whether you were flustered. This officer merely pointed out that the black tea is spilling."

It was not AB or Sephier who stopped the stream of tea, but time itself. Sephier froze with the same expression as before and set the empty teapot upright again.

"Master... didn't say he would register a marriage with you, did he?"

Her voice was full of desperate hope that AB would deny it. Yet AB could not read that hope and had no intention of doing so. She answered honestly.

"...He showed signs of agreement."

Bang.

A gloved hand slammed into the puddle on the table. Black tea splashed everywhere, scattering its sweet scent, but neither AB nor Sephier paid any attention to it.

"Why?! Why you, when he's barely known you at all?!"

AB took the emotional outburst as a sincere question and thought for a moment before answering.

"If this officer dies, it is so he can receive this officer's death benefit."

"What?"

If the captain died, he would receive her compensation.

In other words, that captain was currently facing a threat to her life.

Sephier grasped the situation at once and regarded it far more calmly. She settled back into the chair, where she had half risen, and tapped the table.

"I see. Master did not grant your wish... Hah."

Sephier narrowed her eyes and clicked her tongue as she looked at AB, who sat there with innocent, vacant eyes.

They truly were foolish, absent-minded eyes, though Sephier must have worn a similar expression herself. Blaming AB would be like spitting in her own face.

Sephier let out a quiet sigh.

"Captain, listen carefully. I'm saying this for Master's honor, but Master did not accept your proposal for money."

"..."

AB nodded. She had fully expected as much.

Seamless Perfection was the military state's greatest holding company. Even a fraction of its wealth easily exceeded a captain's death benefit. Sephier was even willing to give away everything except that fraction.

"Master turned down even my money when I asked for nothing in return. There is no way he would register a marriage for such pocket change."

"Pocket... change. Then why did he...?"

Was it because he pitied AB? Because he had been moved? Or had he simply not refused?

Or perhaps...?

Sephier's voice seized hold of AB's imagination before it could spread any further.

"It is difficult to explain in a single sentence. Instead, I'll tell you something that may help you understand Master."

Sephier handed AB a cup filled with black tea. As AB accepted the sloshing cup with both hands, Sephier poured herself another.

"It will be a fairly long story. Would you like to hear it?"

Strictly speaking, AB had neither a need nor a reason to hear it. She needed to go stop the shadows' scheme immediately.

Yet curiosity lurking in one corner of her mind raised its head.

Who was he?

What exactly was his identity?

Why had he accepted her proposal when he did not need money?

She had already come all the way to Seamless Perfection's residence. With Seamless Perfection and the Weaver's help, suppressing the situation would likely be easier...

Making excuses to herself like that, AB could not suppress her curiosity and nodded.

Six years earlier, Amitenggrad.

A dark-skinned man with thick sideburns stormed in, panting angrily. His name was Peto. Aside from his sideburns, he was a rather handsome man, and anyone who did not mind them would find him even more appealing.

In any case, the man whose sideburns were as memorable as his looks burst into the annex office and shouted,

"Hughes, you bastard! Can't you do your job properly?!"

"Ugh."

A young man who looked about the age of a recent secondary-school graduate, a boy just before the end of adolescence or a youth who had only just come of age, let out a small groan.

The young man called Hughes replied with a weary expression.

"Why? I did my job properly."

Peto's neck veins stood out.

"Are you kidding me?! While you were gone, Madam Virenchia cried her heart out, demanding that we bring you back! Do you know how hard it was to soothe her?!"

"How would I? I wasn't there."

"Of course you weren't!"

It could not be helped. Hughes was a substitute. Unlike Peto, who had to report to work every day, Hughes only showed his face whenever he happened to have time.

That was what had caused this whole mess, though.

After taking a moment to breathe deeply, Peto adopted a serious tone.

"All right, let me emphasize this again. Who are we?"

"A host bar."

Hughes answered at once, and Peto shouted,

"Public relations soldiers, you bastard! Public relations soldiers! We're public relations soldiers! While loyal soldiers work hard in distant lands for this country's safety, we're public relations and morale troops who care for their families so they won't worry!"

"Right. Our main job is comforting the lonely madams whose husbands have been sent to distant posts."

Peto grew even more agitated.

"Hey!"

"Why?"

Peto searched for a retort. In other words, he had to work his brain hard to find a way to argue against Hughes.

Public relations and morale troops helped high-ranking officers with their family affairs and events, making sure their home lives went smoothly.

In other words, their main duty was keeping the madams happy.

After thinking for a long time, Peto finally spat out a feeble excuse.

"It isn't just comforting the madams! We look after their children too!"

"So we're household servants for high-ranking officials, with a host bar on the side."

"Watch your mouth! Even if it's true, there are things you can say and things you can't!"

Just then, a noise came from outside. Startled, Peto lowered his voice and spoke to Hughes.

"Madam Virenchia is the wife of Lieutenant Colonel Virenchia, an important figure in the military. Are you confident you could come through unscathed after an angry lieutenant colonel pays you a visit?"

"No."

"Then you should have handled it better!"

"I tried. Do you know how carefully I spoke with her to avoid creating an unnecessary scandal?"

Hughes grumbled. Peto, who had watched his efforts from nearby, fell silent.

Lieutenant Colonel Virenchia was a strict officer with an impressive mustache, but he was kind to his wife alone. Having spent her married life indulged by him, Madam Virenchia had become even more demanding than her husband.

They were a perfect couple who looked utterly devoted whenever they were together, but cracks appeared in that perfection after Lieutenant Colonel Virenchia was assigned elsewhere.

Both were uneasy in the other's absence, but neither wanted to leave the beautiful Madam Virenchia near the front lines.

Left alone in the capital, Madam Virenchia stormed into the Veterans Affairs Office every day and threw hysterical fits. The public relations soldiers could neither seduce her nor drive her away. They simply endured the suffering and prayed for the lieutenant colonel's assignment to end...

Then, like a comet, Hughes appeared. He had just graduated from secondary school and arrived in the capital, yet he calmed Madam Virenchia.

Remembering when he had first brought Hughes here, Peto pressed a hand to his forehead and muttered,

"I'm seriously glad you're young. If you didn't look so boyish, Madam Virenchia would have seen you as a man instead of a son."

"It's not fortunate. If I didn't look young enough to stir the madams' faint sense of guilt, I would have received more gifts."

"Then you wouldn't have been able to work here! Know your place. You're nothing more than a precisely targeted solution for Madam Virenchia!"

"What if I apply to become a public relations soldier after completing my citizen registration? Will you reject me? A talent like me?"

"Y-You...!"

The two always argued, but Peto could count the times he had beaten Hughes in a verbal fight on one hand. Peto muttered,

"...One day, that mouth of yours is going to get you into serious trouble."

"Why are you cursing me just because you can't beat me in an argument, Senior?"

"I can't beat you in an argument, so I end it with a curse!"

Still, the result itself was not bad. Madam Virenchia had become a regular at the host bar, and despite never having a child, she had awakened to maternal affection. When the lieutenant colonel returned, their relationship would probably be much better.

Her obsession with Hughes... time would resolve that. Probably.

Peto sighed and muttered as he got lost in old memories.

"Still, this is much better, since at worst it ends in an affair. Back when knights were running around... Ugh. Let's not talk about it."

As if something had suddenly occurred to him, Hughes replied,

"Ah. Come to think of it, you said you used to be a pretty boy, Senior."

"Aaargh! Watch your mouth! I get chills just thinking about that time!"

During the kingdom era, a knight's marriage was a kind of contract.

It was practically a blood oath to protect one another with all their strength for generations, even if their descendants proved weak despite their own personal might.

Therefore, mutual chastity and an untainted line of succession were essential. Of course, none of that was actually kept, but at least it had to look that way on the surface.

Perhaps that was why knights began keeping pretty boys at their sides at some point.

"Wow. So the Senior who used to be a pretty boy ended up like this. Time really is scary."

"Say one more word!"

Hughes teased the former pretty boy. Peto trembled all over.

"They called us pretty boys, but in truth... Ugh. If the country hadn't been turned upside down, who knows what would have happened. Just thinking about it gives me chills!"

During the kingdom era, Peto had been a squire from a commoner family.

A commoner squire? They called them squires, but they were little more than slaves attending to knights. Whenever their masters drank and started swinging swords, they were the first ones caught in the violence, emotional dumping grounds who died first.

Among them, Peto had been especially good-looking, and he had been about to change from a squire into a pretty boy.

If not for the coup.

"Long live the military state...! I will be loyal forever!"

Overcome by a sudden surge of loyalty, Peto saluted the military state's flag. Then he clenched his fist again and looked at Hughes.

"Don't assume where other people's lines are. Stay on your own side of the line. What do you know that makes you keep trying to accommodate everyone? You're not a prophet or a mind reader."

At that point, Hughes's smile deepened. Taking it as a reaction to his joke, Peto continued.

"It worked with Madam Virenchia, but you can't do that with every other madam. Someone might become excessively obsessed with you."

"Wouldn't that be good? I think I'd get lots of gifts."

"If the cold sensation of a blade piercing your body counts as a gift, you'll receive more than enough."

"Is that from your experience as a pretty boy?"

"Eek."

Peto shuddered and twisted his face into a vicious expression as he looked at Hughes. Hughes simply smiled brightly, filled with confidence and mischief.

He really needed a scolding to come to his senses, but the problem was that a funeral might come before the lesson. He had that much talent. Peto shook his head.

"This won't do. For a while, you're going to take care of children."

"What? You're demoting me over personal feelings?"

"Yes. If you don't like it, become the senior."

Peto crushed him with rank.

They left the annex office and entered a reception room with a long bar and small tables. Young men dressed in the most ornate and extravagant uniforms greeted visitors with charming smiles.

It was a scene that would have belonged in a host bar by anyone's standards.

In the middle of it all, another host... public relations soldier, who had been floundering on his own, brightened when he saw them.

"Peto! Hughes! Good, you're here. Take care of this kid for me!"

"The person assigned to her should be the one entertaining her. Why are you passing her off?"

Peto strode forward, then suddenly recalled something and jerked his chin at Hughes. Hughes nodded and stepped in front of the girl to greet her.

She had blue hair and wore expensive clothes. The small girl looked young enough that she might not have even graduated from a secondary citizens' school, but she boldly faced Hughes.

"What brings you here, little lady?"

When Hughes asked, the girl answered,

"I was told I could get help if I came here."

Hughes did not ask anything further. Instead, he simply read the girl's expression with an odd look on his face. The girl met his gaze without the slightest change in expression.

As the silent standoff continued, Peto grew anxious and nudged Hughes with his knee.

"Hey, Hughes. I know you're in a difficult spot, but you can't just keep staring at her..."

Hughes still did not move. At last, Peto asked the girl in Hughes's place.

"Little one. What's your name?"

The girl sharply turned her head. Her clear voice rang through the reception room.

"Sephier Bakia!"

"Sephier Bakia?"

Several people reacted to that name. Even in the military state, where inheritance had been abolished, Bakia was one of the few famous surnames.

"Bakia? As in Seamless Perfection?"

"Yes! Dangpir Bakia, the second-generation Seamless Perfection, is my grandmother!"

Peto groaned.

Bakia.

The soldiers' patron and closest friend. The military state's richest person.

She was still young, but she was the heir who would soon inherit Seamless Perfection. That alone made her an important figure.

Peto had met many children and many important people, but this was his first time meeting an important child. An awkward expression crossed his face. He kept speaking only because of his strong professional instinct.

"Welcome, Bakia. What assistance do you need?"

The girl declared in a clear voice loud enough for everyone there to hear.

"Make me the heir to the company!"

Footnotes:

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