Yoshida Shuta, thirty-two years old—and I finally finished my part-time job as a woodcutter.
My payment: crappy wine made out of bits of leftover grapes.
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My days always started early in this new world. As in, before the sun even came up. That’s when my rooster roommates would start crowing their heads off.
“Cock-a-doodle-dooooo!”
Morning-to-you-toooooo. With a stretch, I navigated the darkness to put on the only clothes I had—a loincloth. Hey, better that than nothing, even if it still made me itch like crazy around the waist. Still, I definitely wanted to get my hands on some genuinely decent duds soon.
Right then, I heard the sound of the bar on the stable door being removed before Gimul threw it wide open.
“Get up. You’re not coming back here from today onward.”
Before I could think, he was on me, grabbing me and dragging my hide out along the ground like it was nothing. A true gentle giant.
“If I’m not coming back here, does that mean I’m sleeping outside now? I guess that’s fine since it’s been getting warmer, but it gets so lonely at night. I’d want to at least take my rooster pals with me, you know?”
“Shut up.”
And shut up I did.
The roosters in question poured out through the open stable door one after the other, not caring in the slightest as they hopped over me to get out. Could you not just jump over me like I’m a corpse, guys?
It was like all that time we spent together meant nothing. Ah, love. So one-sided, so fickle.
“So, what should I be doing now? You said I wasn’t chopping wood anymore, right?”
“Follow me. Starting today, you’re going to be taking care of the livestock.”
“Wow, taking care of livestock!” I grinned, adjusted my loincloth, and stood myself up. “About time I had some better work to do.”
It was still cold in the morning, but I would warm up by moving around a bit. I wanted to hurry up and get to tending those animals.
“So now that I’ve been chased out of the stable, where will I be living?” I asked Gimul, following behind him.
“There’s a barn, bigger than that stable. That’s going to be your new home.”
Yes! Movin’ on up!
The stable was just a little over fifty square feet, and now I suddenly got to move into a huge barn. And with animal pals, too! Like cows! Or, oh! Maybe horses?
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Uh. No, actually. Pigs. It was pigs.
There were a few dozen of the little guys, oinking their bacony hearts out, and they stank. The stable may have smelled like ass, but the rankness here was a magnitude of ass that put the stable to shame.
“Pig crap,” said Gimul. “Clean it.” Leaving me with those words, Gimul moved a short distance away to keep an eye on me, just like before.
Does this guy even have a job? Judging by the sword at his waist, I’m guessing he works for the village chief, but I’ve never actually seen him do any work. What a guy.
Just as I was thinking that, a large, older lady made her way over to me (though it was hard to believe she was a lady at first glance.)
“So, you’re the new manure guy, then?”
“Yeah, nice to meet you. My name’s Shuta.”
“Forget the formalities. Just grab that shovel and scoop it into those barrels until they’re full of manure. When you’re done, take the barrel to the mound out that way.”
“Mound? What mound?”
“You’ll know when you see it. Now get to work!” The old lady smacked me on the butt with the wooden stick she was holding. Hard.
“Ye-OUCH!”
“Less yappin’, more pig-crappin’!”
This old lady was as hardass as they came. I scrambled to the shovel and got to work filling the barrels with the pig dung scattered around the barn. All that wood chopping really helped build my strength for this sort of work. Even so, my back started to give out in no time flat.