After successfully leaving the school, I headed towards the requester’s location. I’d accepted a job to help at an orphanage for five thousand cols. Apparently, they were looking for help with preparing a Christmas event, but they would give me the full details once I arrived.
Sure, the pay for this quest was lower than the others, but apparently, their financial situation wasn’t too great to begin with.
“This must be it.”
The building I was asked to go to was far behind the church. Hm. The building’s old, but it’s well kept. The orphanage itself was way in the back, off the main path. It was the perfect place to be hidden from public view.
“Oh? Are you the student we hired?” an old lady—probably at least seventy years old—asked from the doorway.
Her hair had mostly turned gray, and she was wearing a habit.
“Yes. My name is Abel, and I’ve come from Arthlia Academy of Magecraft.”
“Oh, what a well-mannered young man,” she remarked softly, seeing me bow after my introduction. “I’m Kikuko. You don’t have to act so formally.”
Hm. It seems that this Kikuko lady’s very mature. It was a marked difference from the personality of my previous client, Edgar the recycling shop owner.
“The youngster we had helping out here recently quit, so we’d like your help with the students until we can hire a replacement.”
I see. So I’m essentially a stand-in for the previous person. It might seem strange that I’d accepted this quest out of all the ones I could’ve taken, but it wasn’t all too surprising when considering that, in my younger years, I lived in an orphanage. As a result, I was curious to see how modern orphanages differed from what I had experienced.
“I will be trusting you with looking after the children. They’re all very energetic, so it might be a little difficult, but please do your best.”
Babysitting, huh? No doubt, this is not my area of expertise. Then again, only doing what I’m good at won’t broaden my horizons. It’s good to challenge myself by stepping out of my comfort zone every once in a while.
“This way. I’m getting older, and each year it’s more and more difficult to look after the children,” she said, sighing, as she led me to the first floor of the building.
Even before we entered the room, I could hear a commotion from the inside. When I finally did open the door, I was met with a surprising sight.
“Take this! You’re done!”
“Nuh-uh! I got you!”
It’s even more chaotic in here than I expected. Though the room was fairly large, as a result of almost ten kids sharing it, it was so messy inside that there was barely any space to walk.
“Children, calm down! Your new attendant is here!” Kikuko said loudly, making all of the children turn towards us.
“Aw, man. The girl from before quit already?”
“I wonder how long this guy’ll last.”
The moment they laid eyes on me, the children immediately unleashed their cheeky comments my way. I see. Looks like orphanages these days are much nicer than they once were. The children look well-fed, and they’re living in a fairly good environment.
None of them looked on the verge of death or like they had to steal to simply survive. Compared to the ones of my time, modern orphanages were extremely blessed.
“Whoa, look! This guy has yellow eyes!” one of the kids said, pointing at me.
“Oh, the Pleb Eyes! I’ve never seen them before!” another said.
Once again, I was given a refreshing reaction. My Amber Eyes were apparently the object of ridicule in the modern age, and were known as “Inferior Eyes.” Another way to mock them was with the nickname “Pleb Eyes.” Ted had called me that when we were kids, so this might’ve been something that kids said a lot in general.
“Lame! We got a Pleb Eyes here?”
“Unbelievable! So gross!”
Upon seeing my eyes, the other children started reacting about the same way. Good grief. If I stay quiet, they’ll just keep going on and on, saying whatever they want. Because they hadn’t yet developed a sense of self control, kids could say the cruelest things.
“Well, I’ll leave the rest to you, Abel,” Kikuko said. “They might be a little rude, but they’re good kids.”
They are, huh? I’d say they’re a lot more than just “a little” rude. She might just be biased—after all, she’s the one who raised them.
“Sure. You got it,” I said.
Now then, what should I do? It seems that modern orphanages are more lax than I thought, and are filled with rowdy children. Managing this unruly bunch of troublemakers might be the most annoying quest I’ve ever taken in my life.
✦ ✦ ✦
Afterwards, the quest had begun.
The minute Kikuko had stepped out for groceries, a particularly high-strung boy stepped forward and said, “Heh heh. You’ve got guts stepping into my territory!”
Coincidentally, he’d also been the first kid to ridicule my eyes. I could tell from his appearance that he was a little ruffian.
“Hmph. Trying to play it cool? Don’t get a big head just ’cause you’re older than us!”
Good grief. He doesn’t know how to talk politely. Usually, it was best to simply ignore these kinds of people, but unfortunately, I couldn’t do that this time. Since I was getting paid for this, I had to interact with them.
“Listen up, newbie! I’ll teach you the law of this place! It’s survival of the fittest! Strongest person stands at the top!”
“If you want our respect, show us what you got! Let’s have a mock sword fight!”
The kids spoke confidently, pulling something out as they did.
Hm. They’re using rolled-up newspapers as swords. I don’t think they’ve reinforced them with magecraft or anything, though. But even if they had, they’d still be nonlethal objects—nothing to worry about.
“Let’s go!”
“Yeah!” After hearing their leader’s call, all the kids yelled, jumping towards me at once.
Despite being children, they were surprisingly coordinated with their movements. Most likely they played this game daily, which essentially equated to training.
“Take this!” One of the kids cried.
“Over here, Pleb Eyes!” yelled another.
What a rambunctious bunch.
To be honest, it felt like a waste of time to actually take on the three children charging at me. Hm. I might as well use this time to look over the job papers that Kikuko gave me. Back in my day, finding ways to efficiently use your time was the mark of a good adventurer.
“Dammit! I can’t hit him at all!”
“He’s faster than I thought!”
Though they were more coordinated than I’d expected, in the end, they were just children. Dodging their attacks required such easy, simple moves that I ran the risk of putting myself to sleep. But, at the very least, it gave me time to go through all the documents.
“Hey! Fall back!” their leader cried out. “We’re gonna switch to ranged attacks!”
Hm. They changed their strategy after determining that simple close combat isn’t effective? Not a bad choice. Their fatal flaw, though, is the fact that they’re challenging me.
“Focus fire!” their leader commanded.
The kids pulled out pillows from the closet and began throwing them at me at the same time. Good grief. Seems I don’t have a choice. I was the type of person who didn’t discriminate between sex, age, or appearance. Despite my current opponents being children, it’d be rude of me not to go all out when they were.
“Infinite Domain.”
The magecraft I’d used was the strongest one from Obsidian Eye magecraft’s repertoire. As soon as I used it, the space around us warped and was painted black.
“Wh-What’s going on?!”
I couldn’t blame the children for being so surprised. After all, this was a magecraft of the highest difficulty that I’d only recently developed successfully.
“The pillows are frozen in the air!” one of the children cried out.
Infinite Domain was a magecraft that deployed over a specified area. Inside this area, space and time didn’t exist. Anything inside the field came to a complete stop.
“Uh...are we in trouble?!”
“This guy’s no pushover!”
It seemed that the kids had caught on to the abnormal situation they were really in.
“Release,” I said.
Guess it’s time for my counterattack.
After releasing Infinite Domain, the pillows that’d been frozen in the air flew back at the kids, eliciting yelps and grunts as they were struck with the high-speed pillows strongly enough to knock them to the ground. Though my attack might’ve seemed flashy, I’d tweaked the force so that they wouldn’t be hurt.
“You brats are taking your games too far,” I said.
In the end, children are simple creatures. Once you teach them who’s boss, everything else gets easier.