Helmut: The Forsaken Child - H.F.C Chapter 47 (Part 2):

“Baden? That’s a major city. There’s often a lot of people heading there, so finding escort or convoy requests shouldn’t be hard. We’re located on the route to Baden, so many seek mercenaries here. I believe there’s at least one available. Let me see.”

She rummaged through a drawer for another notebook and, flipping through the pages, asked,

“Do you have a desired amount in mind? As you know, the easier requests don’t pay much. They’re just side jobs. Mention any experience you have.”

“I’m not concerned about the amount. I’m heading to Baden anyway. I’ve done an escort for the Butan Trading Company before.”

“That one, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm, there’s one suitable request here. How about this?”

She pointed to a passage in her notebook. Helmut barely made out the scribbles.

“An escort request? For a noble lady, 800 marks.”

“The amount is quite good, isn’t it? Wealthy nobles don’t skimp on request fees.”

Helmut then realized how much he had earned from his first request; it was more than he had imagined.

‘I can afford to spend a bit more from now on.’

“But there’s one condition.”

“What is it?”

“The lady must like you. It seems they plan to replace some of their knights with mercenaries on the way to Baden. But the lady is picky. She’ll only hire someone she likes.”

“What kind of person does she like?”

“Well, considering the usual tastes of nobles, probably someone clean, well-dressed, with a trained appearance, and also handsome. They use guards as a status symbol, after all.”

Helmut looked down at his outfit. The first two criteria certainly didn’t apply to him. The receptionist clicked her tongue.

“If you weren’t handsome, I’d have thought a beggar had come begging. Be thankful for your face.”

“…Okay.”

Helmut felt a complex emotion, unable to pinpoint exactly how to respond.

“Do you have money? You’re not completely broke, are you?”

“I have money.”

“Good. Then, this request is yours for now. Go get a haircut and buy some nice clothes, then come back later. With your current look, who would know you’re a mercenary?”

Helmut felt slightly wronged. His clothes were tattered because of a fight with two second-class mercenaries, not out of preference.

“When dealing with noble clients, appearance is important. You must look strong enough to knock anyone down, or be a well-known mercenary, or at least look decent. It shows you earn well and can manage yourself. Right now, you look like you’ve been starving for months.”

Her advice sounded more like an insult, but it made sense. Helmut furrowed his brows.

“I’m not starving.”

The receptionist clapped her hands together, exaggerating her reaction.

“Right! I know, I know. With a face like that, you’re halfway there. You can make a living off your looks alone. It’s just your outfit that’s a bit lacking. Buy some clothes and come back tomorrow morning!”

After giving the name of a shop and some tips, the receptionist waved her hand. Helmut, feeling pushed along, left the mercenary guild.

‘Change my outfit?’

He had planned to disguise himself anyway, and he had plenty of money. Following the receptionist’s recommendation, he entered the clothing store, where a middle-aged owner greeted him with a dull look.

“Welcome.”

‘He looks shabby and doesn’t seem to have much money. What a nuisance. If he causes any trouble, I’ll kick him out immediately.’

The owner eyed Helmut suspiciously.

“I came here on Sara’s recommendation from the mercenary guild.”

Mentioning her as instructed, the shop owner’s demeanor immediately brightened.

“Ah, Sara recommended you? Are you a mercenary? Then, sir, what kind of clothes do you need?”

It seemed the owner had a connection with Sara.

Becoming friendlier, the owner asked Helmut to specify his needs.

“Traveling clothes. Mine are worn and torn. I’d like to buy about three sets.”

“How much are you thinking of spending? It’s better to be specific.”

Helmut had bought his current outfit for 30 marks, but that was with a map included, so he wasn’t sure if that was a fair price.

“The price doesn’t matter, but they should be of good quality…”

Helmut paused to think.

“Clothes that would look good in the eyes of a noble lady.”

‘Be specific, she said.’

The owner looked slightly uncomfortable.

“Very specific, I see. Well, okay. Let me look. Such items will be a bit pricey, just so you’re aware.”

Helmut nodded. Soon, the owner brought out several sets of clothes from the shelves.

“Many of our customers are large, so let’s see. This size should do, and black looks clean but might give a dark impression. Nobles associate black with thieves or assassins, so it’s not a good choice. How about these navy, dark grey, and purple travel clothes? They’re not the absolute best, but they’re high-quality. I didn’t stock the highest quality in your size; it’d be a waste to have them sitting around.”

The owner mumbled an explanation.

“This should do. We often have knights visiting our store, and they leave satisfied. These are warm, windproof, lightweight, and comfortable. Try touching them.”

Helmut did as suggested and was amazed at how soft they felt.

The difference was like night and day compared to what he had worn before.

“Do you like the material?”

“Yeah.”

“For these three sets, let’s see. Since it’s Sara’s recommendation, I’ll make it cheap for you, 2,000 marks.”

The commission fee he considered generous was 800 marks, so this price didn’t seem “cheap” at all.

‘Is this what they call being ripped off?’

Helmut raised an eyebrow. Sensing his skepticism, the owner defended himself.

“No, this is Thomas! I run an honest business. I wouldn’t cheat a customer, especially one sent by Sara! Besides, I wouldn’t exploit someone who looks so… ahem! less fortunate.”

Thomas tried to recover, revealing his true thoughts with a cough.

“Anyway, if you want, you can find something for under 100 marks. But since you found good items, I picked the best for you.”

The shop owner shrugged, as if to say he was just trying to clear out expensive stock.

Helmut’s mouth finally opened as he stared at him as if trying to determine his true identity.

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