Chapter 1 of 100
Chapter 1
2 min read541 words
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First customer.
-Knock knock
It suddenly started raining in the late afternoon.
What began like dew quickly turned into a heavy downpour.
In that late evening, with the heavy rain pouring down, and with no customers, only flies buzzing around, a drenched man entered the inn, where the paper with "Newly Opened" written on it, attached to the door frame, was getting wet and the ink was starting to run.
"Welcome."
I greeted him warmly, but what caught my eye was the sword hanging from his wet waist and the long scar visible under his bamboo hat; he was a martial artist.
Although it felt a bit unsettling that he was a martial artist, I decided to guide him to a seat first. After all, it was the first day of opening, and I had to start somehow.
"This way..."
When the man took off his bamboo hat, the scar on his face became even more prominent.
If this were a different life, I might have mistaken him for a gangster coming to collect protection money, but for a martial artist, a sword wound was a common injury.
Ignoring the scar, I quickly brought a towel to the drenched customer.
"You must be soaked. Please dry yourself, sir."
"Thank you, innkeeper."
Even as he thanked me, his eyes didn't look at me; he just scanned the interior of the inn's dining area.
And it seemed he didn't like the seat I had shown him.
He walked to the widest spot in the center, sat down, and said to me,
"Bring me some dumplings and a bottle of rice wine."
Sitting astride the chair, he laid his sword across the table and took out three taels of silver from his robe, placing them in front of him as he ordered his food.
'What, this guy?'
Of all people, my first customer had to be this guy. I couldn't help but curse him in my mind.
The reason I had to curse this martial artist in my mind.
Dumplings and a bottle of rice wine would cost about 15 iron coins. Since one tael of silver was worth 1000 iron coins, he had paid an enormous amount of money.
However, the reason I cursed him.
The sword laid across the table. Three taels of silver.
The meaning behind the sword and the three taels of silver he placed on the table.
This was an unwritten rule among martial artists, a unilateral warning that he would turn my inn into a mess.
[While I eat, something might happen and it could turn into a mess. You better get out of the way]...
I trembled all over and quickly brought him his meal, then had to retreat to a distant annex.
What could I do? If the legal gangsters of the martial world told me to scram, I had to scram...
As I trudged through the rain to the annex, the sound of the main building being dismantled by hired hands began to reach my ears.
-Crash! Clang! Bang!
"Get him!"
"Kill him!"
"Ugh!"
Every time I heard something break, I squeezed my eyes shut. My inn, which had just opened today, was being destroyed right before my eyes.
'Cut it out! You guys!'