September 17, 2022

Heat the Pig Liver - Volume 1: Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – Otakus Enjoy Cute Girls Treating Them Like Pigs

Through this story, this is the only thing I wish to convey to everyone: heat the pig liver.  Seriously, don’t even think about eating it raw.

 

…You still want to eat it raw?  You sure are stubborn.  I guess it can’t be helped.  For those who refuse to listen, let me briefly explain my situation.  I’m currently covered in mud and curled up on the floor of some dimly lit shed.  Why am I covered in mud, you ask?  Well that’s because the floor is actually dirt, and all around me are pigs.  In fact, this place looks like a pigpen.

 

If I remember correctly, I curled up into the fetal position at the train station platform because a sudden sharp pain in my abdomen left me unable to stand.  As for what caused the pain, it’s probably because…

 

I ate raw pig liver.

 

At the suggestion of a terrible friend, I dipped it in sesame sauce and ate it raw.  The soft texture was surprisingly not bad.  It was like pudding, liver pudding.  Looking back, I was an idiot for thinking such.  My stomach felt like it was being chewed apart, and I vowed to god then and there to never eat pig liver raw.

 

Are you able to follow the story so far?  Good.

 

In a situation like this, normally you’d wake up in the hospital, right?  However, I found myself in a pigpen.  It looks like god didn’t let me off the hook with just a stomach ache and decided to also throw this pathetic sinner into a pigsty.  If you don’t want this happening to you, don’t even think about eating raw pig liver.

 

My body felt heavy, I couldn’t even move my limbs.  Although the pain in my stomach was gone, I felt a sense of incongruity and could only lay in the mud alongside the pigs. 

 

Even my eyesight felt off.  I could chalk the blurry vision up to not having my glasses on, but the things I could still see in this dimly lit place – the dirt floor, the pigs, the animal feed, and the light shining through the broken part of a wall, all seemingly lacked color.  The stench of the pigpen, a mixture of mud, feces, grass, and rust overwhelmed my nose.

 

I’m sorry, I’ll make sure to cook the pig liver before eating it.  Honest to god, so please forgive me and save me from this hell.

 

Just as I made this prayer, the pigpen suddenly brightened up.

 

The pigs nearby squealed like otakus and got up.  Hey, stop it!  Don’t step on me!

 

They gave me a sniff before running towards the light.

 

I heard a girl’s voice, and a person’s figure appeared over the light.

 

I’m saved!

 

Except she didn’t pay any attention to me.  It looks like she was busy feeding the pigs and couldn’t care less about this pitiful college student.

 

I tried saying something, but my mouth refused to work.  That’s strange… was my nose ever this…

 

Just as I was about to discover the truth regarding my misfortunes, she walked towards me.

 

──,──────?

 

She knelt down and said something I couldn’t understand.

 

Please help me.  I don’t know how to explain myself, but I’m stuck here and can’t move.

 

I tried to convey these words through my gaze, and right as I voiced those thoughts, what came out of my mouth was…

 

“Oink!”

 

Oink.  I may be your average boring otaku, but I’ve never responded like this before.  There were several times where I ended my sentence with an oink, but those were intentional.  This is the first time I unconsciously made such a disgusting sound.  It’s a moment worth celebrating, oink.

>TL Note: ンゴ is used here.  It’s a slang that’s used either as a means of self-deprecation, or to ridicule someone for making a mistake.

 

Oh no, you’re not a pig!

 

Yeah, not everyone in this pigpen is a pig.  That was a close one, because of that mistake, a precious life could’ve been—

 

Wait.  I stopped and focused on listening.  Did she even talk?

 

Please wait a moment, I will get you out of this shed.

 

I didn’t hear any voices.  It was more like information was being sent through my skull and directly into my brain.  All I can say is that I could understand her thoughts.

 

Soon after, she brought over what looked to be a wooden board, rolled me onto it, and pulled it along like a sled.

 

It was here that I realized the unfortunate truth.  My body shouldn’t be this round.  I’m 174cm tall, and weigh 53kg – your typical skinny guy with a science background.  Nevertheless, the feeling I got when she pushed me and I rolled onto the board was akin to having been rolled up in a gym mat.  It felt like I was a pig.

 

And as someone with the makings of an excellent researcher, I was able to objectively look at my own body and accept reality.

 

I became a pig.

 

I see, I see.  So I’m a pig.  Then that makes this a dream.  Once I wake up, I’ll probably be lying on a hospital bed.  That’s that.

 

Well, this is pretty interesting, and since it’s just a dream anyway, might as well test out just how capable my brain is.

 

What I meant by this is that pigs only have dichromatic vision, whereas humans can see three colors: red, blue, and green.  Therefore, pigs are less capable at distinguishing colors compared to humans.  So if I’m still able to see the outside world in its usual color, it means my subconscious wasn’t strictly responsible for creating this scenario.  I’m betting on my conscious mind.  Even for my subconscious, it won’t be able to win against my conscious.

 

With a smug grin on my pig face, I watched the exit.

 

I lost the gamble.  The view before me was lacking in color.  The blue sky seemed strangely dim, and the green grass looked as if it’s been bleached.  That being said, this is good.  Since my subconscious is capable of even recreating a pig’s vision, it must mean the owner of this brain, I, am also quite outstanding.

 

I was pushed onto the grass, but I still couldn’t move a muscle, so I simply laid there like a piece of meat.  The girl moved in front of me, probably to observe my nose from a frontal view.

 

Is that blonde hair…?  I think so.  I haven’t gotten used to the feeling of being a pig, so I couldn’t comprehend what I was looking at and could only stare as her brightly colored hair flowed in the wind.

 

It would be nice if she were cute.  Even better if she could groom me and help scrub off the mud on my body.  Also a skirt would be nice, since from a pig’s perspective, I could peek underneath whenever I want to.  I wonder how old is she?  Is she a high schooler?  She’s a schoolgirl, right?  If it’s my incredible brain, it should be able to recreate a blonde high school girl in a miniskirt.

 

Excuse me, um…

 

The high school girl with clear blue eyes transmitted her confusion through the voice in my mind.

 

Was it because I wasn’t accustomed to this strange feeling?  I was hit by a wave of exhaustion.

 

Unaware of the trials that awaited me, I fell asleep.

 


 

When I woke up, I found myself curled up on a bed.

 

I gradually recalled the strange dream I had where I became a pig and was rescued from the pigpen by a cute European high school girl.  Seems like if you eat raw pig liver, you’ll dream about becoming a pig.

 

Hm?

 

I didn’t recognize this bed, with its canopy decorated in simple but elegantly colored laces. 

 

Looks like my color vision came back.  Did I turn back into a human?  However, there seems to be a problem – this isn’t a hospital.

 

I tried getting up but my shoulders didn’t feel right.  Why didn’t my arms extend out sideways?  Did I break some bones…?

 

“Have you woken up?”

 

I turned my head towards the voice, and saw the girl standing there.

 

“Um… how are you feeling?”

 

She was a slender girl who looked to be around six or seventeen years old.  Her silky blonde hair reached her shoulders, and she wore a white blouse and navy blue skirt.  Though she looked European, her nose was fairly small, which vaguely resembled that of a Japanese.  Lastly, her thick, blackened silver collar gave off a strange feeling.

 

Although I had no concerns of pain or discomfort, I found it difficult to move about.  I planned to ask where I was…

 

“Snoink!”

 

This kind of otaku sound came out.

 

“Ah… that’s alright, you don’t have to force yourself to talk.  I can… understand what you’re thinking.”

 

…Huh?  I haven’t turned back into a human yet?  Is this the continuation of that dream?

 

In response to my confusion, she gave me a troubled smile.

 

“I’m sorry… I did everything I could, but I wasn't able to turn you back into a human.”

 

I don’t know what’s going on anymore.  For the time being, let’s get up and confirm the situation. 

 

I rolled over to stand up, and the next moment I was on all four.  My body moved forward naturally and jumped off the edge of the bed.

 

There was a silver-framed mirror nearby, so I hurried over towards it.

 

Looking into the mirror, I saw a remarkably clean pig that was about the size of a rolled up futon.  Its plump meat was covered in pale pink fur, its pair of black eyes stared back, and its wet and pinkish-red nose moved as I breathed.

 

I raised my right hand, and it raised its foreleg.  I tilted my head, and it tilted its head.  I stared at the pig, and it stared back.  That’s me.

 

Eh?  What’s going on here?

 

I tried calming down and slowly turned towards the girl.

 

Why am I a pig?  Could you explain the situation?

 

“The reason why you became a pig… I’m sorry, but I don’t know either.  You just happened to wander into the farm shed that I am in charge of.”

 

I see.  In that case, how was she able to figure out I was a (former) human being when I look just like a pig…?  I tried recalling before her voice interrupted my thoughts.

 

“Have you not seen this?”

 

Bashfully, she lifted her hair to show me her collar.

 

The silver collar had blackened, possibly due to having been worn for a long time, and it had various engravings that gave off a sense of gravity.  Either way, it didn’t suit a kind-looking girl like her. 

 


“It doesn’t suit me… does it?”

 

One thing I was certain of was that this cute girl can read my thoughts.

 

“Um… I am a Yesma.  I apologize for my late introduction.  I am the Yesma serving the house of Quiltlin, my name is Jess.”

 

Ok.  I don’t quite follow, but… I’m a pig, nice to meet you.

 

“Um, Mister Pig, where are you from?”

 

She asked, in a confused tone.

 

I am from Tokyo, Japan.  Nice to meet you, Jess!

>TL Note: This was in English

 

“Erm… Toh-ki-yo… Forgive me, I’m not well educated so I’m not familiar with things outside of this country.  But since you don’t know about Yesmas, you are probably not from Mestria.”

 

I think so too.

 

Or rather, what’s a Mestria?  Where are we?  I walked around looking for a window.  There’s one next to me, but I’m not tall enough to look through it due to my pig height.

 

She helpfully brought over a large chair and placed it next to the window.  Thankful, I climbed onto it and looked outside.

 

Grass plains.  Beyond that are red houses scattered across the area.  In the distance, I could barely make out mountains with snow covering their peaks.  This picturesque scenery before me resembled that of a summer resort in southern Europe.

 

“If I may explain… Mestria refers to all of the land around here, and a great king rules over it.  We are in Quiltli, the outskirts of southern Mestria, and it’s governed by the Quiltlins, the owners of this mansion.”

 

Alright…?  So about Yesmas…

 

“Ah, Yesmas are a race of maids who can be recognized by their silver collars… and, how should I explain it… We can communicate using our inner thoughts without the need to use our ears or mouth.  I am the Yesma that serves the Quiltlins.”

 

You don’t use your voice, and communicate via thoughts… That would explain why she could answer all my questions that were being monologued.

 

“Um… would you like something to eat?  I’m not sure if they will suit your tastes, but I prepared some fruits.”

 

Various colorful fruits were placed on top of a plain wooden table.

 

Well… I’m not feeling that hungry.  Rather, I’m feeling the urge to be petted.

 

She began stroking the pig’s- no, my head, and I couldn’t help but wag my tail.

 

Just by wishing for it, I can get what I want.

 

I finally got it.  My dream created a fantasy otherworld scenario where the protagonist was a pig, and the heroine has the ability to read people’s minds.  This is the tale of a boy’s struggles in a world of sword and magic as he attempts to regain his humanity after being reincarnated into another world!

 

────?

 

Nn?  Hold on.  Wait a moment.  Let’s calm down for a second, everyone.  Before setting out on this lovey-dovey fantasy story, I want to confirm something first.  This girl, Jess, can read my thoughts, right?  That’s how she realized I was not a pig, but instead a human being.  So far so good.

 

Then what if… what if I looked at her luscious skin and imagined “Oink Oink!  I want to assault her!  I want to make her sticky with pig saliva!  Oink!”  Would she be able to hear those thoughts as well?

 

She suddenly stopped stroking me.

 

“…Well, yes.  That would be correct.”

 

Oh no!  Wouldn’t all my pig-like desires be exposed then?!

 

She revealed an apologetic look.

 

“Um… It seemed like you wanted to be brushed, so I washed you while you were asleep.  The same goes for my clothes… I just so happened to have a shorter skirt, so I changed into it.  I beg your pardon for reading your thoughts without permission… It must have made you feel uncomfortable as a foreigner.  Please accept my sincerest apology.”

 

I was apologized to; and so I thought – Isn’t she way too kind?  The chair.  The food.  The petting.  If I considered it, she would probably even willingly undress for me.

 

She shyly held her hands in front of her chest.

 

“My body is small and thin, so I doubt there’s anything worth looking at, but… if you so desire.”

 

Stop right there!

 

In a panic, I got off the chair, placed some distance between us, and faced her.  It must be strange to be face-to-face with a pig.

 

“No, that’s not the case at all…”

 

I have three things I want to say, so listen carefully, girl.

 

“Okay…”

 

First, your chest is by no means lacking, I can tell even with your clothes on.  In fact, there are a lot otakus who prefer it at that size, so don’t worry about it.

 

“Um… thank you very much?”

 

(Second, I want you to ignore my thoughts except for those in parentheses, like this.)

 

“Parentheses… you say.”

 

(Yeah.  Any thoughts that I want to convey to you, I’ll put them inside parentheses.  As for my other thoughts, even if you can hear them, please pretend like you couldn’t.)

 

If we don’t do this, I’ll end up mixing in sexual harassment remarks mid-conversation like a dirty old man.

 

“I don’t… really mind.”

 

(That was me monologuing, so it’s alright if you don’t respond.)

 

“Oh, that’s right!  Sorry.”

 

She covered her mouth and quickly apologized.  No, no, I should be the one apologizing.  Sorry ^_^;

 

The girl and pig stared at each other quietly inside the room.  Tonight’s dinner is, without a doubt, going to be Schweinshaxe.

 

(Third and finally…  I’m going to sound arrogant for saying this since I’m just a pig, is that alright?)

 

“Erm… That’s fine.”

 

(Everything you’ve done for me has been very considerate and incredible.  I’m happy that you cleaned me up, and that skirt really suits you, even the hemline is perfect.  I won’t say what I’m referring to, but the pure white colored cloth is just your style that I think it’s the best.  And since you already know about it, I’ll be honest and confess that the first thing I wished for after becoming a pig is to be groomed by a cute, blonde, miniskirt-wearing girl.  You’ve already treated me to the greatest hospitality I could ever imagine.)

 

After all, it doesn’t seem like this world has the concept of a high school girl.

 

“High sch-… I mean, it’s an honor.”

 

(Yeah, you were wonderful.  However, if you keep fulfilling each and every one of my wishes, then, how should I put it…?  It stops feeling real, you know?  It’s not like you’re a fairy meant to grant my desires, you don’t have any reason to be at my beck and call.)

 

“Even so… As long as it’s something I can do, I want to provide my help.”

 

Did she not understand what I was trying to say?  My tail drooped in response.

 

(Then I’ll be frank.)

 

Seeing her place her left hand on the window sill and her right to her chest made it more difficult, but this is an order for my dream.

 

Those of you who are wise probably already see where I’m going with this.  Between a gentle younger sister who gives it her all to prepare a bento for you every day, and a younger sister who normally treats you like a pig but hands you a bento after saying “Just this once, okay? …As thanks for helping me with homework yesterday.”  Which one tastes better?  Of course both are delicious, but I definitely prefer the latter!  And I won’t accept any arguments!

 

… I should translate this into something more proper before adding the parentheses.

 

(Sorry to say, but it’s in my own interest to not one-sidedly accept help from others.  As a pig, there’s not much I can do to repay your favors, and the more you shower me with kindness, the more indebted to you I become.  It doesn’t sit well with me to be in those kinds of situations, so if you really wish to look out for me, I would prefer if you only act when I make a request towards you; and I’ll do my best as a pig to repay these favors.  I don’t want you overly caring for me.  After all, you’re not my servant.)

 

In response to my fast-talking, she gave me an uneasy look.

 

“… Are you sure?”

 

(Yeah.  On the contrary, it gets me more fired up to be treated as a pig normally, but receive help when I’m truly in need of it.)

 

Same goes for seeing you naked.  I’d prefer waiting until the time is right.

 

“Ah… So it’s not that you don’t wish to see it.”

 

Uh, that was a monologue.

 


 

“If you’re not feeling tired, would you like to go outside?” — I accepted her invitation and we went for a stroll.  The place I was sleeping at was at the third floor.  We descended the stone stairs, and exited the first floor into the backyard.  It looks like the stairs on the second floor connect to the kitchen, and the first floor leads to the dimly lit barn.

 

“We are currently at the south part of the Quiltlin mansion, this is where I usually live.  Over there is the farm.”

 

Jess gently explained while we walked side-by-side.  As we walked across the vast meadow, a few stone sheds appeared on the horizon.  It looks like it’s just past noon.  The feeling of the sun shining on my back, along with the refreshing breeze, felt comforting.  The wind made her skirt flutter, and performed its job perfectly.  As the sunlight permeated through the navy blue cloth and mixed with the light reflecting off of the grass, creating a faint glow, I caught a glimpse of what looked to be white-

 

“Um, it’s alright to walk a bit closer.”

 

(Don’t mind me, I was just describing the scenery.  I didn’t have any ulterior motives.)

 

There’s no way a 50cm or so tall pig would have an ulterior motive for looking up while standing next to a girl in a skirt.

 

“I see.  It was so descriptive, I thought you might have liked it.”  She beamed.

 

What a kind-hearted girl.

 

(So… I have a few questions I wanted to ask you, is that alright?)

 

At my question, she turned and looked at me.

 

“Of course.  Also, my name is Jess.  Please feel free to call me Jess.”

 

Oink.  Jess-taso!
>TL Note: An otaku slang, similar to using -chan.  
(ちゃん→たん→タン→タソたそ)

 

(Alright.  Nice to meet you, Jess.)

 

“Pleased to meet you too, Mister Pig.”

 

Oink Oink!  This is quite the reward.  Have any of you ever had the experience of calling a cute blonde girl by her name, and then have her call you a pig?  I doubt it, sucks to be you.  Anyway, since my innermost thoughts such as these will be heard, I stopped worrying about it.  This guy over here tried to sound cool by saying “Nice to meet you, Jess” while squealing like a pig on the inside.  You see, Jess-taso?  This is the paradoxical nature of a man!  Observe!

 

(… Please ignore that.)

 

“Okay, I’m starting to get the hang of it.”

 

(Great.  So could you explain to me various things?)

 

“Of course.  Please.”

 

(Where to begin… To start with, is it common for people to turn into pigs here?)

 

Jess had a serious look on her face.

 

“I’m not very knowledgeable, but… I don’t believe that is the case.  There’s just some races that can turn into a beast-like state, and I’ve heard of some historical tales where some people could completely transform into animals.”

 

(Has there been any instances of a person becoming a pig?)

 

“No, there has not.  However, it’s said that hundreds of years ago during the Dark Ages when mages were still fighting, they would use their power to turn people into vultures for spying purposes, or fat seals and punish them.”

 

Mages and transformation magic…  Hearing her say such outlandish things with a serious tone cemented my belief that this was a fantasy world.  That said, be it a vulture or a seal, their choices of animals are pretty out there.  In that case, surely there’s been a great mage that transformed himself into a pig to be stepped on by a cute girl.

 

(Are there no longer any mages around?)

 

“No, there are.  However, their numbers have dwindled significantly since the Dark Ages.  It’s said that in Mestria, the royal family is the only bloodline of mages left after having won the war of the Dark Ages.”

 

(Then the way to change me back…)

 

“Forgive me, but I believe your only option is to travel to the capital and meet the king.”

 

I was speechless.  Well, technically I was the one who decided not to carelessly make any noises since I’m a pig, but still, I was flabbergasted.  Does that mean I have no choice but meet the king and go “Oink. Oink oink oink oink!” (Could you please change me back to a human being?).

 

“Um…”

 

Jess stopped and crouched down to meet my eyes.  There was a slight opening between her knees…

 

“I will accompany you.”

 

She had a genuine and beautiful smile on her face.  But…

 

(Come on now, don’t you have your own life to live, Jess?)

 

To my response, she shook her head.

 

“Actually, I will be on leave for a while as I plan to head to the capital.”

 

What’s this?  Just as I found myself in a pickle where I needed to find the king to resolve this, Jess just so happens to also have plans to go to the capital.  What kind of half-assed contrived plotline is this?  Do it properly, my fantasy.

 

With a troubled look, Jess smiled and said “… it must be fate.”

 

Oink.  Since it was all for the purpose of making this cute girl say that line, I’ll let it slide.  As a matter of fact, I’d like to apologize to my subconscious.

 

(Let’s put aside the talk of fate.  What are your plans for traveling to the capital?  Will it be alright to bring a pig along?)

 

“I think it will be fine.  It’s just… an errand of sorts.”

 

(Is it at the capital?)

 

“Yes.  As the house of Quiltlin’s maid, I am to appear at the capital for work.”

 

(Won’t it damage the household’s name if you showed up with a pig?)

 

“I’ve been told the king is great and benevolent.  I’m sure after hearing your situation, he’ll lend you a hand.”

 

I think most kingdoms would describe their king as great and benevolent. 

 

(In that case, please take me along!)

 

“Yes!”

 

For some reason, Jess was smiling joyfully.  It was a scene right out of a painting.  What a sight for sore eyes.

 

In any case, even if the other person is just a pig, you should pay attention to the way you scooch down when wearing a skirt…

 

She noticed where I was looking at, and blushed.

 

“I beg your pardon for showing you something so unsightly…”

 

Alright.  If that’s what you think, then show me something more interesting next time.

 


 

We arrived at the farm where all the livestock are kept.  I noticed some chickens grazing about so I pretended to charge at them to scare them, and they scattered in reaction to my tactics.

 

What a bunch of chickens.

 

“Please don’t bully them too much.  We need to serve their eggs on the Quiltlin family’s dining table…”  Jess admonished. 

 

I reflected on having acted on my primal instincts.

 

(Sorry, my pig tendencies kicked in…)

 

She smiled in response to my irresponsible comment.

 

“If you do that again, I’ll bully you, Mister Pig.”

 

Oink!  She’s already grasped an otaku’s weakness – moe.

 

We arrived at the pigpen.  The moment Jess opened the door, those oinking bunch came out.

 

I greeted them as a fellow pig, and it looked like they were eyeing me out of curiosity.

 

“Please wait here for a bit.  Since finding Mister Pig, I haven’t had a chance to take care of them…”  Jess explained while unlocking a small metal box located inside the pigpen.

 

She then took out some kind of yellow crystal from her pouch and inserted it into the box.

 

The pigpen immediately lit up.

 

I was waiting amongst the pigs outside but decided to have a look.  Inside, I saw brooms and rakes that were chained to the wall begin moving on their own, and clean water began flowing into the buckets.

 

Looking up towards the ceiling, I noticed the lanterns lined up against the walls were emitting a warm glow.  They didn’t flicker like fire would, instead, they maintained a steady brightness like that of a light bulb.

 

(What’s the mechanism behind these tools moving and the lanterns glowing, Jess?)

 

She walked towards me while holding a pouch that appeared to contain some form of grains.

 

“We use ristas to manage the animals here at this farm, since it would be difficult for me to take care of everything by myself.”

 

(Ristas?)

 

“Oh, my apologies… since you’re a foreigner, you don’t know about ristas.  Ristas are these types of stones.”

 

She carefully took out various colored crystals that were the size of pebbles, each shaped like a hexagonal column.

 

“Every day, ristas are produced by a great mage and distributed to us citizens.  Magic power is stored inside of each one, and we can use them in various ways.  This red rista can be used for heating or fire magic, this yellow rista can used for transportation or light magic, and so forth.”

 

So they’re like magic batteries?  Seems like the civilization here developed differently from the civilization I came from.

 

(How many different colored ristas are there?)

 

“Special ones appear from time to time, but there are five main types — red, yellow, green, blue, and black.”

 

(Black?  Does it let you use dark magic or something?)  I half-jokingly inquired.

 

As a result, Jess nervously lowered her voice and answered “No, the black ones are for praying.  If one prays using a black rista, one can create a miracle that only mages could perform.  There’s not many that can use it, so it’s not very widely distributed…”

 

(Why aren’t there many users?)

 

“Erm… that’s because only Yesmas are able to use black ristas.  For the Quiltlin family, they are mainly used to heal wounds or sicknesses… but their effectiveness depends on the strength of the Yesmas’ prayer, so it’s not uncommon for them to not work as effectively as people expect them to.”

 

Is that so?  I guess it can be thought of as an item that was too OP and had to be nerfed.

 

“Um, Mister Pig.  I will be done with the work here very soon, so could you… go and play around like a pig for a bit.”

 

Oink!  She’s trying her best to treat me like a pig.  I’m moved by her efforts!

 

Jess made her rounds through the shed – skillfully unlocking each box, inserting a rista, and relocking them.  Each time she slotted in a rista, some of the farm tools inside the shed would begin working, cleaning, and refilling the animal feed.  That’s pretty cool.  I followed her around and watched as the shed’s cleanup was automated.

 

“It will take some time for the automatic care to finish.  In the meantime, would you like to accompany me and go shopping?”

 

(You got it.  I’ll help carry your groceries and whatnot.)

 

She smiled and replied, “Please wait here for a moment, I’ll go get the money,” and ran towards the room we had been in earlier.

 

Ristas, huh?  Sounds interesting.

 


 

Jess led us to the streets where people walked across the cobblestone road dressed in what looked like traditional Alpine clothes.  The neighing of horses, the barking of dogs, and the clomping of hooves resounded throughout.  Given that there’s animals everywhere, I guess there was no reason to worry about whether it was ok for her to bring a pig along.  Even though this was another world, I was able to recognize all the animals and there weren’t any strange beasts.

 

I gaped in awe.  It was as if I had stumbled across a medieval Europe movie set.  To avoid getting separated, and I emphasize that it was just so I didn’t get lost, I stuck close to Jess.

 

She wore a corset with a giant crest embroidered on it. 

 

(Does that corset prevent thieves?) I jested, but she nodded with a smile.

 

“Yes, so long as I wear the crest of the Quiltlins, I won’t be targeted.”

 

Just how powerful is the house of Quiltlin?  I pondered.

 

(Are you worried about someone attacking you?)

 

“Normally I’m not, no… but today is-”

 

She cut herself off and continued walking.

 

(What do you plan to buy today?)

 

“Erm… a number of things.”

 

I feel like Jess is hiding something, I thought while following her.

 

Is it lunch time right now?  The people dining on the terrace stood out, and the bright alleyways were brimming with energy. 

 

“Hey, Jess!  Ain’t it about time to stock up?”

 

The voice belonged to a burly middle-aged man who stood in front of a particularly large store built from stones.  He had pale blonde hair that was combed back, a mustache, and looked to be in his forties.  A couple of young men armed with guns accompanied him as he opened a display case containing ristas.

 

“Good afternoon!  Thank you, I’ll come by next time.”  Jess replied and continued walking.

 

(Was that a store that sold ristas?)

 

“Yes.”

 

(They’re quite heavily armed.)

 

“Ristas are very expensive after all.”

 

Ah, so that’s why the boxes in the shed had locks on them.

 


 

Jess continued walking until we reached a shady back alleyway.  The narrow and winding road was dimly lit, contrasting the bright and bustling main streets, and with dangerous-looking men having set up shops, it gave off the impression of a black market.  The smell of rotten food drifted through the air, making it apparent that this was a dangerous place.

 

(Are you sure this place is safe, Jess?)

 

As long as I have this corset, it should be fine.

 

She telepathically responded.

 

Looking around, Jess proceeded into the dark alleyway.

 

(Don’t tell me you’re going to buy something from here.)

 

There are various reasons for this…  Please stay close to me.

 

She clenched her right hand and held it over her chest.

 

“Hey there, Miss Yesma.”

 

A thin man with a scar over his left eye called out.

 

“Are you looking for these?”

 

He was holding some black ristas.  But what surprised me was that Jess responded with a slight nod after seeing the man.

 

The scar-faced man grinned as if to reassure her and said “Out for some secret shopping?  I can sell you three black ristas for 400 gold.”

 

“Eh, that price is…”

 

“Oh, a first-timer?  How about it, these should be enough to grant your wish.  You won’t be able to buy these at a better price elsewhere.  It’s a good deal.”

 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have 400 gold.  I only need one, so how much will that cost?”

 

The man was taken aback before squinting his eye at Jess’ corset.

 

I caught the slightly tense expression he made.

 

“If it’s just one, it’ll be 150 gold, Missy”

 

“Well, if it’s just 150…”

 

The man smirked while quietly observing Jess.

 

Wait, hold on.  Something’s wrong here.  Do you all know what it is?  And no, I’m not talking about how 400 divided by 3 gets you 133.3333 repeating…

 

This guy called out to Jess and showed her the black ristas.  And based on him saying “secret shopping,” that must mean this is generally where a Yesma would go to secretly purchase their black ristas.  So here’s the problem:

 

Jess explained before that ristas are very expensive.  In that case, why did he try and sell three of them collectively?  Especially to a girl who’s trying to buy them behind closed doors.  After all, Jess said she only needed one, so there’s no reason to buy all three.  And for someone trying to buy it privately, is there any reason why they would buy it in bulk?  You might think that maybe it’s because Jess is serving a wealthy family?  But it didn’t look like he realized that until he saw the corset.  Thus…

 

(I have something I need to tell you, Jess.  Come on.)

 

Eh?

 

I oinked and began sprinting.

 

I heard her say “Excuse me, I’ll come back later!” from behind as I continued running through the back alley until I reached the open fields.

 

Jess caught up to me, panting, and asked “Um… what was the problem?”

 

(This your first time buying something from here, right Jess?)

 

“Yes, it’s my first time.”

 

(You need a black rista, correct?  And you’ve said that they’re exclusively used by Yesmas for praying.  I’d like for you to tell me, how many ristas do you need for a single prayer?)

 

While catching her breath, Jess answered earnestly with “Just one.  The rista has plenty of magic power, so if one isn’t enough to fulfill your wish, it won’t come true no matter how many you use.”

 

I see.

 

(So then, after granting a wish, will there be any magic power left over?)

 

“Yes.  In most cases there will be some surplus.”

 

We’ve got our answer.

 

(Jess, don’t buy ristas from that guy.)

 

“Huh…?  Why not?”

 

(I thought about it.  He tried to sell you three ristas at first, and you’re someone who’s trying to secretly purchase such an expensive item.)

 

“Yes, that’s correct…”

 

(You said that one’s enough for a wish, but isn’t that because you’ve been using genuine ristas?)

 

“Eh?”

 

(Remember what that guy said?  “three black ristas for 400… these should be enough to grant your wish.”)

 

“Right.  If you have three, then you can grant a wish and then some.”

 

(You shouldn’t be so trusting when interpreting his words.  What he meant was that with three of them, they might be able to grant your wish.  Those ristas have all been used and are what’s left afterwards.)

 

“Eh…?  Is that true?”

 

(Think about it.  There’s no way a poor Yesma, especially a Yesma that is trying to stealthily buy a black rista, would be able to purchase one at a proper shop.)

 

“I believe you’re right.  Not to mention the Quiltlin family are the only ones in this town who would entrust a Yesma to handle ristas.”

 

(As such, most Yesmas shouldn’t know how much magic power is in a black rista.  They might even think three is barely enough to make a wish.)

 

“That makes sense…”

 

(Since that guy usually sells them in bulks of three, he tried to do the same when he saw you.  His reaction said it all when you told him you only needed one.  He was surprised, then noticed the crest on your corset and had an “oh shit” look on his face.)

 

“Come to think of it, I did sense something was up from him, but… he quickly covered it up.”

 

(I figured as much, since he realized he was dealing with a Yesma who’s used a genuine black rista, it would’ve been dangerous if word got out to the lord that he had been making money off of used goods.)

 

“So that’s why… No wonder it was so cheap.”

 

(How much is one normally?)

 

“At the store I usually purchase from, they’re 600 gold each.”

 

Uh, I would have preferred if you realized something was wrong by that point…

 

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t want to doubt him since he went through the trouble of calling out to me.”

 

(Oops, er… that wasn’t in parentheses, I was just thinking to myself there.  Ignore that.)

 

“Oh, that’s right.  Sorry…”

 

A breeze swept across the remote farm road.  I knew Jess was kind, but not to this extent.  If there was no one to look after her, she’d be taken advantage of in the blink of an eye.  Or is it precisely because of her actions that lead to her being exploited?  The Yesma maidservant race, perhaps they’re…

 

Nah, that can’t be it.

 

“Thank you very much, Mister Pig.”

 

(Don’t worry about it.)

 

“If Mister Pig wasn’t around, I would have spent all my money buying used goods.”

 

(Yeah.  If someone claims it’s a good deal, you better be extra careful.  Their goal isn’t to look out for your interests, but to make money.)

 

“I have learned a valuable lesson.”

 

Jess crouched down and stroke my head.  That feels nice.

 

It was during this time that a fundamental question came to mind.  I felt like I already half-knew the answer to it, but it seemed off and I didn't like that, so I decided to ask.

 

(… By the way, can I ask you something?)

 

"Of course.  Please."

 

(In the first place, why do you need to secretly buy a black rista?)

 

She stopped petting me and met my gaze.

 

“Um… can I not keep it a secret?”

 

Even if I wasn’t a Yesma, I could tell what she was thinking.

 

(I thought it was strange.  When I was in the pigpen, I couldn’t grasp what you were saying, my vision was weird, and I wasn’t capable of moving at all.  I couldn’t adapt to a pig’s body.  But it’s completely different now.  I can understand your words, my eyesight seems normal, and I’m able to properly walk on all four.  You mentioned you did everything you could, but I’ve been wondering what exactly you did.)

 

“I’m terribly sorry for troubling you…”

 

(It doesn’t bother me at all, there’s no reason for me to be.  So in order to heal me, Jess, you secretly used the Quiltlin family’s black rista.)

 

“… That’s correct.”

 

(And that’s why you’re forced to replace it using your own money.)

 

“Yes… especially since I was just scolded for using the mansion’s elevator without permission – the ristas get used up very quickly, I couldn’t tell them that I also used a black rista on a whim… Having said that, I don’t have enough money left to buy a genuine rista…”

 

That answered another question of mine.

 

(Elevator… you mean the type of device that can help you move stuff in a house by going up and down?)

 

Sensing my enlightenment, Jess lowered her head.

 

“I’m sorry… for acting so selfishly…”

 

At the time, I chose not to ask because I didn’t want to drive Jess into a corner, but I’ve been wondering how she managed to carry me over from the pigpen to the third floor.  Her body didn’t seem strong enough to lift something as heavy as a pig, so what method did she use to get me onto that bed?  It was by using an elevator to transport me to the third floor while I was asleep.

 

And that’s why she got yelled at.

 

(Thank you, Jess.)

 

Jess looked at me with teary eyes.  What a compassionate girl.  Her gentle and caring nature led her to treat me with enough kindness that I, as a pig, wouldn’t be able to repay.

 

I couldn’t even pat her head due to my pig hooves.  All I could do was watch her cry.

 

Why are you crying?  Is it because you feel apologetic towards me for needing to do something bad for my sake?  Don’t be silly.

 

(You know, Jess, ever since I woke up in the pigpen and we met, I haven’t seen a single fault in your actions.  You’re brave, kind, and pure.  If there had to be a mistake, it would have to be getting involved with this troublesome pig that was once a human.)

 

“You’re not troublesome at all…”

 

Jess looked straight at me with her lovely brown eyes. 

 

(You haven’t done anything wrong, and I’m not dissatisfied at all.  So there’s no reason for you to cry.  For my sake too, please don’t look so sad.)

 

Hearing those words, Jess wiped her tears with her sleeves and smiled.

 

She finally smiled, I thought to myself, before realizing that wasn’t quite right.  Jess was simply carrying out my request.

 

She smiled because I asked her to.

 

I can’t let it stay like this.  I have to return her favors.

 

(So you just need a single black rista, right Jess?)

 

She nodded.

 

(Do you need it soon?)

 

“Yes.  If I don’t prepare it before leaving for the capital… I will be branded a thief and chased down.”

 

So that’s why you chose to go to the back alleyway today.

 

(When are you departing to the capital?)

 

“Well… it’s tomorrow.  I’m scheduled to leave tomorrow morning.”

 

(Tomorrow?)

 

That’s… I can only say the timing is awful.

 

(In that case, it’s all or nothing.  We can only go to that store you normally buy ristas from and figure out a way to get our hands on a genuine rista.)

 

“But… if we purchase it from that store, we will need 600 gold.  That much money is…”

 

(How much do you have right now?)

 

“200 gold and a small amount of change.”

 

(How much is the missing 400 gold worth?)

 

“What’s the best way to explain it to a foreigner…?  If I were to give an example, then it would be about the same as most people would earn in 20 days.”

 

Yeah, that’s hopeless.  Our target is 600, and we only have 200.  There’s two ways to go about this – either we increase our number, or lower their number.

 

(That guy with the scar in the back alley, he tried to sell them for 400 gold, right?  That means the other Yesmas managed to earn 400 gold somehow.  Do you have any idea how they did it?)

 

She looked away.

 

“Um, they sold…”

 

I didn’t catch that.

 

(What are they selling?)

 

Their genitals.

 

Jess conveyed it telepathically.

 

She was too embarrassed to say it out loud.  How cute.

 

(In other words, selling their body.)

 

“Y-yes… you could say that.”

 

I looked at Jess’ embarrassed face.  This country’s language expression is surprisingly direct. 

 

(No, no.  I absolutely will not let Jess do that.)

 

I wandered around on the grass while pondering.

 

(The rista you used to heal me with, was that used up?)

 

“Yes, sorry… it was when I was trying out various methods to…”

 

(No need to apologize.  Let’s think of a solution together.  Do you have anything of value on you?)

 

She anxiously held her right hand to her chest.

 

“Sorr- …No, other than money, I don’t think so.  I have a bit over 200, and… just my body.”

 

I guess there’s no choice but to steel our resolve.

 

(Jess, have you ever tried haggling before?)

 

“Haggi…?”

 

I suppose not.  After all, she’s more like a charity that provides free haggis to anyone that asks.

>TL Note: He’s saying Jess is the type of person that would be consider easy prey, or a sucker, and is unlikely to have ever tried haggling.  See the following for better context: https://japanese.stackexchange.com/questions/70699

 

(You always buy ristas from that store, right?)

 

“That’s correct.”

 

(And it’s always been at their labeled price?)

 

“Yes, since the prices are fixed, that is the case…”

 

(In short, Jess is a loyal customer of that store, which means they might be willing to give us some kind of discount.)

 

Under the assumption that that man is a nice person, of course.

 

“But if I ask them to lower their prices, the store which has been helpfully providing ristas will lose money.”

 

Well, that’s the case.

 

“I can’t impose something like this upon them…”

 

(But if you look at it from their perspective, they should have earned a lot of money just by Jess being their customer.  So they might consider giving you some preferential treatment.)

 

“… Is that so?”

 

“Yeah, it is.  For the time being, let’s go take a look.”

 

Jess slowly nodded.

 

We started walking back to the main street.  And as I followed the kind girl who believed in me, I began plotting while making sure she didn’t notice it.

 

As you all know, there isn’t a single person who would consider lowering their price from 600 gold to 200 gold, so we’ll have to negotiate.  Besides her money and her body, Jess has one more thing she can use.

 


 

“Jess!  Are you heading back already?”

 

The burly man from the large store greeted her again.

 

“Yes, it’s almost time…”

 

Jess nervously walked towards the display cases.  I followed beside her and looked up towards the items on display.  Red, blue, yellow, green… various colored ristas were lined up, and at the very end was a black rista. 

 

(Hey, Jess, I’m here for you.  It’ll be alright, just do as I say.)

 

She looked over to me and gave a slight nod, anxiety plastered all over her face.

 

The shopkeeper couldn’t hear the words I directed towards Jess, so he lost interest in me after a quick glance.

 

(Start by telling him you want a black rista.)

 

Okay.

 

“Excuse me, I would like to buy a black rista for myself.”

 

The shopkeeper’s reaction was outside of my expectations.

 

“Again?  I thought I sold you one not too long ago.”

 

What?  I wasn’t informed about this.

 

“Um, I need another one.  Could you please sell it to me?”

 

His expression became somber.

 

“Well, alright.  But it’s 600 gold, can you afford it?”

 

There’s no time to worry about the details, I need to advise Jess.

 

(Be honest about how much you have.)

 

“To be honest, I only have 200 gold…”

 

“200 gold?  What about the remaining 400?”

 

Well, that’s about what I expected.

 

(Tell him you really need it, no matter what.  Could he please lower the price?)

 

“I really need it, no matter what.  Could you please lower the price?”

 

He appeared stunned.

 

“Well, this is troubling.  You’re not shopping on behalf of the Quiltlins, yeah?  So why should I sell it for cheaper to a Yesma?”

 

I was dumbfounded.  This was an obvious case of discrimination.  Even this seemingly kind middle-aged man was disgustingly tainted with prejudice.

 

“I… I’m sorry…”

 

Jess winced and seemed like she would cry at any moment.  To be honest, the discrimination aspect was unexpected, but her reaction was all part of the plan.

 

Sorry guys.  Jess might’ve caught on if I monologued about it, so I hid it from everyone and vaguely hashed out the plan in the corners of my mind.

 

(Don’t worry Jess, just tell him you want to sell him this pig.)

 

Eh?

 

(Sell me, and in exchange for me plus the 200 gold, buy the rista.)

 

But…

 

(It’ll be alright.  I’m not just your average pig.  Believe in me.  No matter what happens, I’ll figure out a way to escape.  So tell him.  Please, for me?)

 

Those words stopped her objections.

 

“Um… In addition to the 200 gold, I’ll give you this pig.  So could you please sell me the black rista?”

 

The shopkeeper raised his eyebrows and looked at me.

 

“Isn’t it one of the Quiltlin family’s livestock?  I can’t buy that.”

 

(Tell him it’s a pig that can perform tricks.)

 

“Um… this pig can perform tricks.”

 

“Tricks?”

 

(You didn’t steal him.  You secretly rescued him from being culled as a piglet and raised him, that’s why he can do tricks.  Tell him you can show him.)

 

“This was a piglet that was supposed to be culled, but I rescued and raised him… I didn’t steal him.  That’s also why he can perform tricks.  Would you like to see them?”

 

The shopkeeper looked at me again, and I stared back at him.  He must think I’m a courageous pig, as his gaze changed.

 

“Hm, tricks you say?  Show me one.”

 

“O-okay…”

 

(I dunno what to show him, so ask the shopkeeper what he wants me to perform.)

 

“Um… is there anything you would like to see?”

 

“Let’s see… how about a dance?”

 

Oh boy, a tall order to start with.  Fine, I’ll dance.

 

(Act like you’re ordering me.)

 

“Mister Pig, a dance please.”

 

Mm.  As a scrawny four-eyes who has avoided the sun and lived for nineteen years, I’ve stayed away from doing flashy things such as dancing, but for this occasion, I’ll let you watch my magnificent performance.

 

Let the show begin!

 

I flexed my limbs repeatedly and bobbed up and down, establishing a rhythm.  Jumping to the beat, I spun like I was chasing my tail and swayed from side to side.

 

“Pf…”

 

Maybe it was because my dancing was too stellar, when I glanced at the shopkeeper, his face was flush and he looked like was about to burst into laughter at any moment.  As for Jess, she had her hand over her mouth and her shoulders were quivering.

 

Guess it was so spectacular that they were left speechless.  It feels nice to be able to make others happy.

 

I spiritedly performed an original choreography while playing anime songs in my head.

 

“Stop… I can’t… Please stop there… I can’t breathe.”  The shopkeeper said with tears in his eyes.

 

It appears my dance was so moving it took his breath away.

 

“Mister Pig… that’s enough…”

 

I finished off with a jump, and posed with my left rear leg in the air.

 

“Pfffft!”

 

The shopkeeper made a strange sound before guffawing.

 

After laughing for a while, he remarked while gasping for air, “That was great!  Simply too good!  And you said you’re selling me this guy, Jess?”

 

Oh?  Looks like this’ll work.

 

(Tell him yes.)

 

“…Yes.”

 

Did his mood improve?  He turned to his guards and said “Hey, didja see that move just now?  It was like a wounded hecklepon!”

 

The young men laughed in agreement.  What’s going on?  I’ve never heard of that word before, but it sure sounds like I’m being made fun of.

 

“Man, that was something.  Jess, does he listen to people other than you?”

 

(Definitely.)

 

“Yes.  I think… it should be fine.”

 

“Hmm, then jump, pig.”

 

I bent my knees and jumped, to which he reacted to with another laugh.

 

“Well ain’t he a clever pig.”

 

Ahem.  Thank you for your compliments.

 

“Jess, I don’t need the money, I’ll take him in exchange for this black rista.”

 

“… Eh?”

 

Well isn’t he a generous guy.

 

“It’s an exchange.  To be honest, I have a performance for tonight’s festival.  If I use this pig, I have a feeling I’ll make it big time.”

 

Tonight, huh.  With that in mind, it doesn’t look like I’ll have a chance to escape before midnight.  Since he’s willing to trade for me without any additional money that must mean he’s got very high expectations of me.  I’ll likely be under strict surveillance until the festival, and on the off chance I escape before then, he’ll likely direct his anger towards Jess as a result of him not making his money back.

 

“Um, may I participate in that festival as well?”

 

────!

 

(Hey, wait!  If you do that, then…)

 

“I raised Mister Pig, so I would like to see him in action.  I’ll even work for free.”

 

Great, she just had to say it.  If she’s nearby when I slip away, she’ll be the first to fall under suspicion.  Ugh… I really didn’t want her acting on her own.

 

… But it’s also true that I moved the conversation forward without Jess’ consent, so I suppose we can call it even.  After all, I was the one who deliberately pushed her into this difficult situation, as I figured she would have no choice but to follow my advice when cornered.

 

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have sold me.

 

The shopkeeper responded.  “Of course it’s fine, but will your work at the Quiltlins be alright?  If I cause any trouble for them, even I wouldn’t be able to do business any longer.”

 

“It will be fine…  Starting tonight, another Yesma will be replacing me.”

He revealed a shocked expression.

“… I see, it’s already time…”

 

It sounded somewhat lonely.

 

“That’s why you’re selling this pig.  Alright, I get it.  You can come then.  We’ll start right after sunset.”

 

“Thank you very much!”

 

“I’ll find a table job for you to do so you can see the stage.  Do you know how to serve liquor?”

 

“I can do that.”

 

“Great, then come to the square in front of the temple before sunset.”

 

Using the key hanging from his belt, the shopkeeper unlocked the display case.

 

Mister Pig, I’m sorry… for acting on my selfishness…

 

(That’s okay, don’t worry about it.  Just don’t help me escape.  I’ll make it out on my own when night comes.  There’ll be trouble if you fall under suspicion.)

 

Will you be alright?

 

(Of course.  Who do you think I am?)

 

I’m a scrawny four-eyed shitty virgin, so don’t look down on me.

 

Then let’s meet again at the festival.

 

(You said it.)

 

“Here’s your farewell gift,” the shopkeeper said while handing over the black rista to Jess.

 

“Thank you very much for your help…  I will return once I finish up my tasks.”

 

She gave me a worried glance before departing to the mansion.

 

“Well then, Mister Pig, sorry but I’m gonna have to have you wear this collar.”

 

Before I knew it, the shopkeeper had one of his guards retrieve a leather collar and put it on me.  A chain was attached to the collar, and a young guard was assigned to holding the other end of it. 

 

Yeah, not good.

 

I won’t be able to run away with this collar on.

 


 

After the store closed up, I was led down the cobblestone road and brought to a large town square while still chained up.  Simple wooden benches and tables were set up in front of a large dome-roof building.  No doubt this was the “square in front of the temple” the shopkeeper was talking about.  I was then taken to a corner where large barrels were lined up, and chained to what looked like a handrail.  The chain was firmly placed where my hands, or more accurately my legs couldn’t reach.  Plus, both ends were connected to bangle-like locks, so even if I struggled, it probably wouldn’t come loose.

 

There was nothing else I could do, so I decided to think.

 

I get the feeling Jess told me a really big lie.

 

First off, she hid the fact that she just recently purchased a black rista.

 

Excuse me, I would like to buy a black rista for myself.

 

Again?  I thought I sold you one not too long ago.

 

Thinking back to those words from before, the rista shopkeeper must have been referencing something Jess bought not for the Quiltlin family, but for herself.  If it was irrelevant to the subject at hand, then that’s that, but since we were discussing how to procure the money necessary to buy the rista, why didn’t she mention anything about her previous purchase?

 

Having said that, I don’t have enough money left to buy a genuine rista.

 

Looking back carefully at what she said, this could also be interpreted as her having already purchased it once with her own money…  Hm, something just doesn’t seem right.

 

And then there’s the conversation Jess had with the shopkeeper.  Didn’t it seem unnatural?  He interpreted her saying “another Yesma will be replacing me” as some kind of eternal farewell and said stuff like “it’s already time,” “that’s why you’re selling this pig,” and “farewell gift”…

 

Isn’t she just going to the capital to run an errand?  She told me she would just be on leave for a while to take care of things, so why did he react that way?

 

A hazy and disconcerting feeling welled up inside of me.

 

Have you ever met an otaku who studied in the science field, especially the scrawny type that wears glasses?  They’re the type of person that would watch moe anime and chuckle to themselves, but the moment they encounter something that bothers them or when something that doesn’t make sense, they’ll suddenly become very talkative and ramble about complicated stuff.  Some of you might even be self-aware of being one.  If so, let’s shake on it.  I’m also one.

>TL Note: デュフデュフ is used here to describe chuckling.  It’s a 2ch’s term for what an otaku sounds like when laughing.

 

It might seem nonsensical to be worrying about the talk of money and the shopkeeper’s reactions when I’ve arrived at another world with a cute girl attending me, but I can’t help it if it bothers me.  That’s just the type of person I am.

 

I heard the gonging sound of a bell.  It sounded like it came from the tower across from the temple.  Soon, the sun had nearly set and people began setting up torches in the square.  If I am to escape, I need to observe my surroundings carefully, so I moved within my feasible range as my chain jingled.

 

The large barrels nearby seemed to contain alcohol, and when I got near them, they gave off a strong yeast smell, so they were probably beer barrels.  Each one had a metal faucet attached to it, likely so the beer could be poured out directly.  I also noticed the guards near the shopkeeper were carrying mugs arounds, so this appears to be his stall.

 

His guards then started stacking crates of glass bottles near me.  I spotted one of them licking their lips as they took a bottle out and noticed the bottle contained a dark brown liquid substance.  Those were probably distilled liquor, and the crates contained wood shavings to cushion them.

 

To escape, there’s two obstacles that I’ll need to get rid of.  First, there’s the physical one – I can’t be free without taking off the chain around my neck; and second, the people here – if I run away with this many people around, I’ll no doubt be caught immediately.

 

Every step I took made the chain jingle, which drew a lot of attention, so I did my best to stay calm and figure a way out.  All the while, other places began setting up shop, lighting their fire, and preparing plates.  It was shaping up to becoming a fairly sizable festival.

 

When the sun finally set, Jess arrived at the square.  She didn’t have her corset on and was instead in a frilly waitress getup.  She seemed accustomed to wearing it and it suited her slender figure very well.  If she were to say “master” right now, even the most rational of guys would squeal like a pig.  As I made my observations, I noticed the area around her abdomen was bulging out in an odd way.

 

The second Jess spotted me, she quickly ran up to me and petted my head.

 

Ah, I was thinking what if they had turned you into skewers by accident, so I was really worried…

 

(What are you talking about?  I’m just fine, don’t worry.)

 

Just as I said that, a nice smell drifted over.  I looked towards where it came from and saw people roasting a pig over a large bonfire.  I see, I’m hungry.

 

I figured that might happen, so I brought some fruits.  Please enjoy, m-master.

 

Oink oink!!!

 

Er, you don’t have to act in the spirit of service each time and tear down every flag I raise…

 

While I was thinking that, Jess scanned her surroundings before sticking her hand into her neckline and pulled out two small apples, which she then placed in front of me.

 

Why did you put them there?

 

I’m terribly sorry.  I was in a rush and I couldn’t find a basket, so… I hurriedly put them inside my clothes…

 

(No, that’s fine.  Thanks.)

 

Two small and tender fruits emerged from underneath the girl’s clothes, and when the pig sticks out his dirty tongue…!

 

Um… How is it?

 

(Oh, this is pretty tasty.  Thank you.)

 

I finished eating in no time.  And I don’t know if it was because I became a pig, but I ended up also eating the apple cores.

 

Jess continued stroking me nervously.

 

(No need to worry, just leave the escaping up to me.  I’d rather you stay away from here to create an alibi for yourself.)

 

Will you be fine?

 

(Yeah, I’m sure it’ll work out, so let’s decide on where to meet up.)

 

Where to meet up?

 

(Jess, do you plan on returning to the Quiltlin mansion after the festival?)

 

Yes.  I still have to prepare for the travel.

 

(Then, how about the farm?)

 

Sure.  I don’t mind, but do you know the way?

 

(Roughly.  Besides, it’s not like there’s another mansion that big around here.)

 

That’s true.  There’s a big tree around the farm, how about we meet under there?

 

(A big tree, got it.)

 

What time should we meet up?

 

(I don’t know, but it’ll probably take until midnight.  Maybe the next morning if my luck is bad.  You have to depart tomorrow morning, right?  You can just go to bed.  I plan on getting there before sunrise, but if you don’t see me by then… drop by the shop and check on me.  We can talk about a new plan there.)

 

Understood.  You’ll be fine, right?

 

(Of course.  Who do you think I am?)

 

Mister Scrawny Four-Eyed Shitty Virgin, right?

 

…… That’s not my name, but…

 

(That’s right, so don’t underestimate me.  I’ll make sure to escape in the middle of the night.)

 

Okay.  I trust you.

 

(That’s more like it.)

 

After saying that, a couple questions came to mind.

 

(Hey Jess, just for future reference, could you tell me how long this festival will last?)

 

Hm…  Perhaps until midnight.  Depending on the circumstances, it could last until the morning after.  As long as people are around, the festival will continue.  Cleanup is usually done on the following morning.

 

Got it, that’s fine.

 

(And another thing, it looks like alcohol is served here, but are all the participants going to-)

 

“Hey Jess, it’s almost time to get to work!”

 

The rista shopkeeper interrupted my question.  I turned around and saw him waving cheerfully in a white shirt and leather shorts with suspenders.  Judging by this guy’s physique, he should be fairly strong, but given that he had a noticeable beer gut, he must be quite the beer lover.

 

“Go ask the youngins’ for details.  I need a moment with the pig.”

 

Well, I didn’t get to ask my other question.

 

He unlocked the chain and pulled me away while Jess was held back by a young man seemingly giving some sort of explanation.

 

The wooden deck, which I suspect was the stage, was not far from the shopkeeper’s beer barrels.  A group of men with bagpipe-like and chordophone-like instruments were waiting on the side, and as I was led up to the stage, they began their performance.  What merry music.

 

“Hey pig, can you rehearse your dance?”  The shopkeeper asked while taking my collar off.

 

Looking around, I saw several middle-aged men and women gathered around the stage.  They seemed to be acquainted with the shopkeeper.

 

“Watch carefully, it’s a masterpiece after all.”

 

He released me, and returned to the back of the stage.

 

The tempo of the music sped up.

 

“Go on, dance!”

 

The shopkeeper’s voice urged me on, and I danced with all my might.

 

It didn’t take long before the audience found themselves having difficulty breathing from laughter.

 

The problem was that after I finished dancing, I was collared and tied to the handrail near the barrels again.

 


 

After dark, the torches were lit and the square took on the atmosphere of a festival.  Some sat around the long tables chatting away, while others gathered around the stage with their instruments.  Meanwhile, I remained tied up near the barrels with no choice but to watch middle-aged men with beer bellies come and buy beer.

 

Just as I was wondering if Jess was busy taking orders and serving the tables, she stopped by to pour a beer before quickly leaving.  She seemed quite busy.  On the other hand, the youngins’ weren’t doing much as they were sitting behind the barrels and playing some sort of card game.  And when someone would come by to buy beer, they would get up with an annoyed look, collect the money, and hand over the beer.

 

Really?  No matter how you look at it the front of the house is crazy busy, go get to work.  This is ridiculous, how could you be playing cards while making a frail girl run around taking care of everything?

 

Although I still had a question I didn’t get to ask, Jess seemed busy, and so I’ll just have to answer it myself via careful observations.

 

Question: For the youngsters looking after this stall, can they openly drink on the job?

 

In other words, are they allowed to get drunk?

 

It’s easy to see that these slackers love to drink, judging by how they stared at the liquor.  However, based on their appearance, they seemed to be around the same age as Jess.  So I’m wondering if the laws and morals of this country allows them to get so drunk that they’ll let a pig get away.

 


 

As the sky darkened and the crowd grew, Jess became increasingly overwhelmed by the number of tables needed to be served.  The square’s excitement heightened as performers took their turns on stage.  Each time, those on stage would put up a banner that said something like “omega lol’s hunting gear shop” or “go google it for sightseeing info,” and after their performance, they would promote something.  The audience would then get up here and there to check out the stalls with the same banners.

 

I wonder if it’s a system where if you put on a good show on stage, those who liked it would support you by visiting your stall.

 

“Maaan, I wonder when it’ll be that pig’s turn,” said one of the young men tending the stall.

 

“Mr. Killings said it’s gonna be the grand finale.”

 

“You serious?  Won’t that mean the delicious treats will have to wait until much later.”

 

“I’d like to get something to eat before then…”

 

While they were playing cards and having their idle talk, the shopkeeper brought a tray over.  I expected the young men to get up in a hurry and try to hide their cards, but none of the sort happened, and they continued playing without any concern.

 

“Alright everyone, good job looking after the stall.  I bought some meat, so eat up.”

 

“Thank you very much, Mr. Killings!”

 

Their eyes lit up as they gaped at the tray of delicious-looking roast chicken that he brought over. 

 

The shopkeeper ruffled one of the young men’s hair, and announced “You better work hard today!  I expect a lot of customers to be coming, so I prepared twice the amount of liquor than usual.”

 

“Twice?”

 

“I have high hopes for the Yesma's pig, so I prepared them in a hurry.”

 

I heard what I needed to hear.  That shopkeeper, Killings, seems like a skilled manager, and also quite capable of taking care of people.  But then why does he make Jess work to death out there while treating these guys here that are playing cards in the back to chicken?  And even though he knows her name, he refers to Jess as “the Yesma.”  This is just discrimination.

 

Whatever.  I plan to say farewell to you all tonight anyway.

 

Killings said he expects a lot of customers, likely because he has high expectations of my dance.  If my dancing is a big hit, the stall will attract a lot of customers.  Under those circumstances, these guys will have no choice but to work.  Also, one of them mentioned that there’ll be “delicious treats” afterwards.  Since another guy said they’d “like to get something to eat before then,” that means it’s not food-related.  If so, what else could it be but alcohol?  It’ll be a problem if they got drunk before serving customers after all.

 

I had a plan in place now.  Observe, everyone.  I’ll be escaping tonight and making my way to Jess.  I’ll be going back to the cute girl that you’ll only be able to witness through these pages.

 


 

Stepping onto the stage, I realized something that I had forgotten about.  There were a thousand something people in the audiences.  This was the first time in my life that I had to perform in front of such a large crowd.  As I stood on the large stage that was prepared for me, two thousand plus eyes stared at me.

 

(I can even clearly see the people in the back!)

 

I tried to embody the idol spirit, but my heart wouldn’t stop racing.

 

Eh, isn’t this pretty bad?

 

Likely due to the novelty of a pig performing on stage, there were a lot of curious and piercing gazes on me.

 

Uh, no way, nu-uh, impossible.  I can’t even do a self-introduction in class without flubbing it out of nervousness, so why do I have to dance in front of a thousand people on my first day in another world?

 

The shopkeeper moved next to me and placed a megaphone looking object with a green rista attached to it in front of his mouth.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen!  It’s the Killings Gem Shop’s turn next.”

 

His voice was magnified a couple dozen times, and it echoed across the square.

 

“Up until yesterday, we advertised that we would be arranging a music performance.  However, we decided to invite this pig on stage on top of that.”

 

There were murmurs of confusion along with laughter.

 

“I have no doubt that this’ll be a show that you have never seen before!  Please enjoy.”

 

It was at this moment I spotted Jess watching me from the middle of the square.

 

She was clenching both her hands in front of her chest, as if to say “do your best!”  That’s cute.  Aah, after this is over, I want her to give me a lap pillow!  I want to lick her face like a dog and make it sticky with saliva.  Her small-

 

Um, I can hear you…

 

Eh, is that so?

 

Then you should’ve just cheered me on telepathically in the first place.

 

And thus, the show began.

 

“Dance!  I’m countin’ on ya!”  The shopkeeper said while giving me a smile.

 

I unintentionally reacted with a nod, surprising him.  He followed up by walking off stage while clapping his hands.

 

Uh oh, not good.  How should I dance?

 

I guess I should start with a jump.

 

After a moment of silence, the venue was filled with laughter.

 

Whatever, I don’t care anymore.

 

I then decided to do a loop around the stage, but my foot got caught and I fell over.  Another round of laughter.

 

Mister Pig, do your best!

 

Jess encouraged me with her voice that only I could hear.  However, what this innocent girl doesn’t know is that the creature known as otaku becomes incapable of doing anything properly the second they realize a girl is watching them.

 

I tried to do the zig zag step, but ended up stepping on my own hooves.

 

“Screeoink!”

 

My cry of pain invited further howling.  The old man sitting in the front row was even crying out of laughter.

 

Don’t worry!  I’m not watching, so keep it up!  Pff.

 

Hm?  Did I hear a giggle just now?  Well, that’s fine.  I’ll do my best for the sake of Jess’ smile.  I’ll show you all the scene of a pig doing the windmill for the first time in history!

 


 

Though the act was well received by the audience, for me, it was an absolute disaster.  While I was desperately dancing, I unknowingly moved towards the edge of the stage and ended up falling off.

 

Ow, ow, ow!

 

This is what happens when an otaku gets carried away trying to show off.

 

With the collar attached once again, I was whisked back to the handrail and tied to it.

 

It looks like I sprained my right hind leg, or possibly even broke it.  Every step sent a jolt of pain through me.

 

“Hey pig, you were the best!  They loved it.  Just look at them!”

 

After tying the chain, the shopkeeper pointed at the queue in front of the liquor stall.  Seems like the young men were now busy with selling beer.  Those bottles of distilled liquor, which from the sound of the orders were whiskey, also began to sell.  These guys were dripping with sweat from the sultry environment.  Serves you right.

 

Enduring the pain in my leg, I waited for my chance.

 

After about 30 minutes, the line cleared up and a bunch of flushed face adults started surrounding me to watch.  Just as planned.  Bearing the pain, I jumped and danced, garnering round after round of applauses.  One after another, drunkards holding mugs and bottles gathered.

 

The young men tending the stall impatiently opened their bottles of whiskey and downed them happily while watching me.

 

Alright, time to act.

 

I moved close to the handrail while dancing to give the chain as much slack as possible, so when I shake my body and jerk my head around, the chain would make an unpleasant jangling sound.  Come on, ring some more.

 

With enough vigor to feel like I would get a whiplash from this, I shook my head to repeatedly slam the chain on the ground.

 

“Hey buddy, can you remove this loud and annoying chain?”

 

An old man finally spoke up.

 

“A bottle of whiskey’s 10 gold.”

 

“Okay fine, I’ll buy one.”

 

After the old man paid, one of the young men took off my collar.  All according to plan.

>TL Note: Keikaku doori.

 

On to step two.  I slowly led the crowd towards the crates of whiskey, then fake charged at them as to startle them.  Since they’re drunk, they reacted as I had expected and jump backwards.

 

Just a little more to the right.

 

I pretended to rush at them again, and one of the drunkards fell perfectly onto the crates.

 

CRASH!

 

The crates fell over and the glass bottles were scattered.  The keen-eyed young men pretended to clean up the mess while swiping the undamaged bottles, and the people around me apologetically purchased another glass of whiskey.

 

All that’s left now is to wait.  I just have to act funny and keep them here.

 

In less than an hour, everyone present was extremely drunk, and I took the opportunity to slip away.

 


 

This pig was furious.

 

Actually, I lied.  Sorry.  I just wanted to let you all know that my injured leg hurt so much, I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to make it to the Quiltlin mansion.

 

I felt like Melos, and in order to fulfill my promise with this cute girl, I had to make it back before sunrise no matter what.  But the pain.

>TL Note: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Run,_Melos!

 

Since I’m a pig, it’s not possible for me to physically touch my hind legs and check.  I laid down on the ground and twisted my neck to look.  There were no visible injury.  The pain came from the joint.  Let’s hope it’s nothing serious.

 

The streets at night were empty and dark, the only thing I could rely on was the moonlight.  Tonight was a full moon.  It was so bright, my shadow was casted onto the stone pavement.

 

I haven’t felt this much pain since I sprained my ankle at a ball game tournament during high school.  I made a questionable move and fell, so while the popular boys were playing under the cheers of the girls, I was quietly nursing my ankle with ice in the corner of the gym.

 

Urk.  I remembered something I didn’t want to.

 

That said, I’m at a loss here.  If Jess finds out about my injury, she might end up using another black rista on me.  And it’s not like she can sell me again when I’m an escaped pig, so I’ll just have to do my best to hide it.

 

But she’s someone who can read thoughts.  I’ll need to think of a countermeasure before I go back to the farm.

 

No, no.  Let’s put that aside and focus on getting to the farm safely first.  I drew a lot of attention at the festival, so it’ll be bad if I get spotted.  It’s probably best if I take the back roads when possible.

 

I roughly knew the direction towards the mansion, it’s hard to miss it since it was a large building built over a spacious plot of land.  I decided to get there through the back alleyways.

 

As I limped towards my destination, I reached a familiar location.  It was the shady back alleyway where that guy with the scar was selling ristas.  The place had a foul odor like that of a dirty public bathroom.  I don’t think anyone’s doing business here right now, so I should be able to pass through here and get out of town to reach the meadows.

 

I heard a voice coming from ahead and stopped.

 

“Clean up after your own mistakes.  You know what’ll happen if you cause trouble for me, right?”

 

“Sorry, but there was nothing I could’ve done.”

 

“You can probably take care of it and make it look like an accident happened.”

 

“Not that, I’m not talking about the corset situation.  The pig just ran off all of a sudden and disappeared.”

 

That voice must’ve been from the guy who tried to sell used ristas.  I quietly hid behind a wooden crate, held my breath, and listened in on the conversation.

 

“Then find her.  You know where the mansion is, follow and kill her.”

 

“Hold on.  I’m sorry for before, but isn’t this going too far?  If I kill the Quiltlin family’s Yesma, it’ll be over for me.”

 

My legs trembled.  Hang on a second, what did they just say?

 

“She’s your responsibility.  If you don’t want to, you can always ask one of the Yesma hunters to take care of it.”

 

“There’s no way they’ll kill a Yesma that’s currently employed.”

 

“Give em’ more money.”

 

“I don’t have that kind of money.”

 

A loud bang could be heard, and I saw the scarred man pressed against a wall.  A two meter tall muscular guy with short blonde hair towered over him. 

 

“Listen up.  Either you kill the Yesma, or you die.  If you don’t have her corpse by tomorrow night, we’ll kill you alongside the Yesma, and put the blame on you.”

 

The brawny guy quickly released the scarred man and walked menacingly towards my direction.  But perhaps because I was hidden and holding my breath desperately, he didn’t spot me and left.

 

“Guess I gotta do it…”

 

The scarred man also walked in my direction while fixing his clothes.

 

Eh?  What do I do if I’m spotted?  Am I going to die?

 

I quivered in fear, waiting for him to pass.  He turned on the corner, and walked in the direction towards the Quiltlin mansion.

 

Huh?  Waitwaitwaitwaitwait…  Why were they talking about killing Jess?  Or rather, why won’t my legs move?  Hang on, just give me some time to think.  Is that guy going to where Jess is?  If so, I have to do whatever it takes to stop him.  But what can I do?  What exactly can a livestock that’s trembling in fear in this dumpster-like back alley do?

 

Shit.  Shitshitshitshitshit!

 

… Stop, calm down.  Aren’t you in a fantasy world of sword and magic?  Is it ok for you to be frozen in place, letting the pitiful heroine die?  Is it fine for that innocent girl waiting for me to be murdered by that filthy man?

 

Move, Melos.  For the sake of saving Jess, you have to act.

 

Even though they’ve been domesticated, the ancestors of pigs are wild boars.  They’re ferocious beasts.

 

So what if I’m hurt?  It’s not like I need to kill that guy immediately anyway.  Yeah, I just have to chase after him for now.  I can figure out a strategy while keeping an eye on the situation.

 

I returned to the main street once again and spotted the guy’s hunched figure.  He seemed to also have problems with his legs, as he was limping.  Looks like I shouldn’t have any issues tailing him.

 

I followed him while observing my surroundings.  I’m a pig after all, an animal with eyes facing to the side, therefore I had a wider field of view.  You got that?

 

That said, it wasn’t until I remembered that fact before I was able to see everything around me all at once.  It was probably because I was used to a human being’s perspective, so I was only paying attention to the center of my field of view.  Once I stop focusing there, I should be able to see more things at the same time.

 

I was reminded of another thing: pigs are used to find truffles because their noses are as sensitive as a dog's.  I tried to be conscious of it as I breathed in.  The headwind carried the breath of someone who smoked tobacco, the stench of unwashed hair, and above all else, the smell of menthol.

 

Although there weren’t any new scents that I haven’t smelled before, the distance from things at which I could smell them was absurdly farther away.  I tried smelling the ground.  Stone, dust, and a bit of that scarred man’s smell seemed to come from it.

 

Pigs have their own talents.  Being able to draw people’s attention just by dancing is only one of many.

 

Think.  How can I protect Jess?

 

I decided to observe the guy.  His steps were uneven but casual, and he was carrying a leather bag over his shoulder.  The bag was bulging from something inside, it was probably the used ristas.  Because of his legs and belongings, I was certain he wouldn’t be able to move quickly.  However, I was also wounded, and it’s risky to attack a human without knowing what kind of weapons they had.

 

Not to mention, I was a former four-eyed shitty virgin, so I don’t have the guts to kill someone.

 

Taking these factors into consideration, it’s probably best to let someone else fight this guy.  But the only person I can communicate with is Jess, and I don’t think an angel like her would be able to go against him and win.

 

I guess there’s no other choice but to inform Jess beforehand and run away.

 

But what about those “Yesma hunters” that that brawny man mentioned?  Even if we managed to get away, will we be able to survive while being targeted by them?

 

Think.  What can I do to make them give up killing Jess?  What are those bad guys worried about?

 

We had reached the outskirts of town while I was pondering.  The Quiltlin mansion could be seen in the distance, and it was a straight road to it from here.

 

The guy stopped for a moment and pulled something out from his waist.  The blade glistened under the moonlight.  It was a dagger.

 

If that sharp blade cut through Jess’ dainty neck, pierced her fair skin, punctured her organs, and splattered her blood…  No, I hate the thought of that.  I won’t let it happen.

 

The guy put away his dagger and resumed walking slowly.

 

Time’s running out.  It’s frustrating, but I’ve got no choice other than to go and meet Jess before him.

 

Run pig, only you can save Jess.

 


 

I deviated from the road and ran straight through the meadow towards the Quiltlin mansion.  Perhaps due to the adrenaline rush from hearing about the assassination, the pain was just barely bearable.  I’m sure I’ll regret running this much with an injured leg later, but for now, I have to save my benefactor, Jess.

 

We agreed to meet under the big tree at the farm, but that’s tomorrow morning.  I told her to go to bed, so she should be in that room on the third floor.

 

I arrived at the mansion’s back entrance, but the wooden door’s handle was too high for me to reach, and it was likely locked.  Fuck.  If I was a human, I’d forcefully break in, but…

 

While contemplating how to open the door, something else came to mind.

 

You can probably take care of it and make it look like an accident happened.

 

You know where the mansion is, follow and kill her.

 

If I kill the Quiltlin family’s Yesma, it’ll be over for me.

 

That’s right.  I was too distressed to think properly, but there’s no way that guy can kill Jess while she’s inside the mansion.  Even though they knew the location of the mansion, “follow and kill” implies that they can’t brazenly kill her inside the mansion.  Yeah, since the bad guys are afraid of the Quiltlins, if it was discovered that Jess was killed, the culprit will be investigated, captured, and probably executed by the Quiltlins.

 

So long as I wear the crest of the Quiltlins, I won’t be targeted.

 

That corset that Jess wore, does it imply that she belongs to the Quiltlins and that no one is allowed to put a hand on her?

 

If so, that guy’s actions can be predicted.  Option one, lie in ambush, wait for Jess to come out, and kill her after she leaves.  Option two, pretend to be in need of help, lure her out, and kill her.

 

But Jess should recognize his face, and she’s also from a race that can read people’s minds to some extent.  With those in mind, it would be more likely for him to prepare an ambush and attack that way.

 

Next is figuring out what he’ll do after killing Jess.  He can’t leave the body there as is, since it’ll be obvious that it was a murder.  But it’ll also be difficult for him to carry Jess around, since his legs have problems.

 

Wait, hold on.  Is he actually going to kill Jess with that dagger?  If he’s trying to make it look like an accident, a stab wound will cause issues.  If it was noticed that she was murdered and an investigation into the culprit was launched, it’s possible that this guy, who seems to have a bad standing, would be betrayed by his colleagues because they don’t want to deal with the scrutiny, and be handed over to the Quiltlins.  He’ll definitely want to play it safe and make it look like an accidental death.

 

His target is a weak and obedient girl, so he’ll surely take her somewhere else before finishing her off.  The only problem then becomes the fact that she recognizes him and that she can read his thoughts.  Hence the dagger.  He’ll surprise and threaten her with it, drag her away, and finally throw her in a river.

 

If that’s going to be the case, it’ll be bad once he witnesses Jess leaving the mansion.  Not to mention she’ll be heading to the farm before sunrise.  If he attacks there, there’s nothing I can do.  Dammit.

 

I looped around the back of the mansion and stared at the room on the third floor.  The lights were off, so it must be pitch black inside.  When preparing to head out, she’ll need to turn it on, so I should be able to know her timing.  Is there something I can do to signal her…?

 

It was at this moment, I realized another possibility.

 

I’m a failure of a human being, and given that I’ve never gone out with a girl before I’m not too sure on this, but how early does a girl arrive after you’ve agreed on a place and time to meet?

 

For a girl like Jess, would she be waiting there for me already?

 

There’s still plenty of time until sunrise.  While keeping an eye on the third floor window and area surrounding the back door, I decided to check our meeting place.

 

Under the cover of darkness, I headed towards the farm.  I was reminded of my walk with Jess in the morning.  Even though it felt like a long time ago, I remembered our conversation.

 

My name is Jess.  Please feel free to call me Jess.

 

Pleased to meet you too, Mister Pig.

 

I will accompany you.

 

Her gentle voice resonated through my mind.  Those innocent eyes, and her angel-like smile.

 

Where else in my lifetime would I be able to find such kindness?  The kindness to lend me a hand when I suddenly appeared in the pigpen covered in mud.  The kindness to use an expensive rista on someone like me…

 

Not so fast.  Get a hold of yourself.  Good grief, otakus sure fall head over heels easily.

 

Now’s not the time to be thinking about such thoughts.

 

I shook my head and hurried to the farm.  You understand, right, readers?  No matter what kind of cute girl we might meet, we can’t fall in love.  It’s our duty as otakus to quietly support them from afar.  I felt my heart being squeezed.

 

In the middle of the vast meadow laid a single large tree.  The ground around it was slightly raised, making it look like it was outstretched towards the sky.  Underneath the starry night skies, its leaves swayed and flickered from the breeze and moonlight.

 

A girl was sitting at the base of the tree, leaned against the trunk, sleeping.  There she was, waiting.

 

I can’t believe she’s so early…  Hey hey, it’s still in the middle of the night.  Did she come here this early just to wait for me?

 

I completely forgot about the pain in my leg and bolted towards her.  Even as I approached, she remained fast asleep.  She was in the same white blouse and navy blue skirt from when we first met.  Her look of serenity while slumbering briefly entranced me.

 

… No, that’s not right.  What are you doing, pig?  This is not a viewing party for cute girls sleeping.  You should be thinking about how to stop that guy from killing her.  Let’s start by waking Jess up.

 

(Jess, can you get up?)

 

No response.  I guess that’s to be expected.  It would be too noisy to fall asleep if even a pig’s thoughts were transmitted into your brain even while unconscious.

 

I nudged Jess’ shoulder with the tip of my nose.  She didn’t wake up, but she stirred slightly.  Her pretty face was next to me.  Her long blonde eyelashes glistened in the moonlight.  Her small nose and thin lips.  The skin on her neck gently curved along under the silver collar and connected to the bumps along the surface of her slender collarbone.  Her delicate arms and fingers looked like they might break if they held something heavy, but if you looked carefully, you would see that her hands were covered in small wounds, and were chapped and red.

 

To think someone would consider killing a girl like her, that person’s not a human being.

 

Anger welled up within me.  I won’t let Jess die for the sake of that guy’s self-preservation.  Just try and point your dagger at Jess, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to hold a knife ever again.

 

I nudged her again, this time more forcefully.

 

Jess slowly opened her eyes.  She noticed me and her eyes widened without a word.  Her brown eyes took me in and were damp in no time.  She burst into tears.

 

“… I was really worried about you.”

 

 

Jess hugged my head after those words, and my mind went blank.

 

Time seemed to stop.  But I remembered I had something I needed to do.

 

(Jess, listen to me.)

 

She didn’t let go of me.  Even though I was just a stranger and a pig that she picked up today.

 

Sadly, I have to put a stop to this moment of happiness.

 

(There’s a guy coming to kill you, Jess.)

 

“Me…?  Eh?”

 

Jess finally released me, and held her right hand against her chest.

 

(It’s the scarred face guy who you tried to buy a rista from this afternoon.  He’s already near the mansion with the intention of killing you.)

 

“But why…?”

 

(I don’t know for sure, but I suspect they want to kill you to keep your mouth shut.  That’s because, if Jess ever figures out that they’re running a shady business that deals in used ristas, their business will be over.)

 

“But I wasn’t going to tell…”

 

(Yeah, but bad guys are people who will kill just to shut a person up if he or she discovers something that they didn’t want leaking out.)

 

Why did I explain it like this?  What am I, her father?

 

“What should I do…?  If I’m killed… Mister Pig might not be able to return to being a human.”

 

Why are you worried about me right now?  What are you, my mother?!

 

(I won’t let you die.  I’m here with you, so let’s figure out a counterplan together.)

 

Jess looked at me with her teary eyes.

 

“Then… how about sneaking away?”

 

(That won’t do as a good countermeasure.  They might follow us wherever we go, and when you return, they could attack you again.)

 

She seemed to want to say something, but then closed her mouth and looked down.

 

(I think the best course of action is to let the Quiltlins arrest him.  There’ll be no need for us to fight, and is therefore least dangerous.  More importantly, as long as the Quiltlins are on our side and help spread word about their dirty laundry, there’ll be no point in sealing your mouth.  It’ll also make it harder for them to target you.)

 

“But… will the Quiltlins go so far as to do that for me…?”

 

(Haven’t you been serving them for a long time?)

 

“Yes… but I’m a Yesma.”

 

(So?)

 

“My status compared to the Quiltlin family is night and day.  I’m… not in any position to be asking for anything.”

 

(But if you’re killed, the Quiltlins will be troubled as well, no?  Don’t you still work there?)

 

“Um…”

 

Jess pressed her hand nervously against her chest.

 

I got the feeling that she was keeping quiet about something.

 

(Tell me.  I won’t get mad.)

 

“I’m sorry.  I actually won’t be returning to the mansion anymore.”

 

I figured that might have been the case.  It wasn’t just my imagination when that shopkeeper said something along the lines of a farewell gift, as if Jess was going away.

 

(Alright, you can tell me why next time.  For now, let’s think about what we can do right now.)

 

If we can’t ask the Quiltlins to make a move, let’s think of a way to create a situation where they’re left with no choice but to act.  The question is, how to do that?

 

(Is there a place where you keep the tools locked up on the farm, and can we trap someone inside of it?)

 

“Um… There’s a stone warehouse.  If it’s locked from the outside, you won’t be able to get out.”

 

(Do you have the keys to it?)

 

“Yes, the key is hung at an easy to spot location right after entering the back door of the mansion.”

 

That would mean there’s a chance Jess might get spotted by that guy on her way to picking up the key.

 

(Even if you’re just a servant, you should still be allowed to leave a note behind where someone from the Quiltlin family can find it, right?)

 

“Yes… I believe so.”

 

(I’ll be telling you the plan then, make sure follow my instructions.)

 


 

I overruled Jess’ objections and got to work.

 

I scouted the area around the mansion on my own.  The wind carried the smell of menthol, which allowed me to locate the scarred man hiding inside a bush, secretly monitoring the back door.  It was just as I had deduced, he plans to ambush Jess, threaten her with the dagger, then drag her away.

 

I returned to the place Jess was hiding at and said, (Let’s go.  And don’t forget, I’m not his target, you are, so don’t come and try to help me no matter what.  Worst case scenario, you can escape alone since he has problems with his legs.)

 

She nodded vaguely.  Well, nothing I can do if that happens, I just have to make sure I don’t screw it up.

 

After guiding Jess to hide near the mansion, I steeled myself and pretended to wander around in front of the back door.  Naturally, I expect that guy to have noticed me.

 

“Snort.”

 

Oops, I meant to sound more like a pig, but it came out more like a sneer.

 

However, that was quite effective, as the guy shifted his attention onto me and changed postures.

 

“Snoink.”

 

I made another squeal before trotting towards the farm.  There was some hay burning on the farm which emitted a flickering light.

 

With my pig’s field of view, I was able to spot the guy stalking me.  It seems like the fire on the farm caught his attention, as he was staring at it.  Based on the information available to him, he’s probably thinking that the campfire on the farm is being tended by his target, since this pig was with her this afternoon and it’s currently walking towards it.

 

… He might even be hoping to take her out at the campfire itself.

 

As we neared the farm, I hastened my steps and hid inside the pigpen.

 

He lost sight of me, but because his target is Jess, he’ll be carefully searching around the campfire for her.  The warehouse is quite a ways away from the campfire, so it’s unlikely that he’ll check there.

 

I waited for a while inside the pigpen before exiting in search of that guy.  I spotted him right away.  He was stood next to the campfire, glancing everywhere.  Perfect, keep your eyes on the fire.  It’s bright, so your pupils will constrict, and the rhodopsin in your rod cells gradually get photobleached.  The human eye is able to adapt to bright light quickly, but it takes time for it to adjust to the dark.  Right now, he shouldn’t be able to spot Jess, who has already retrieved the key from the back door and is on her way to the warehouse under the cover of the night.

 

Suddenly, a light lit up elsewhere.  It was the warehouse.  Ok, let’s move.

 

I moved near the guy once again.

 

“Snooink.”

 

I snorted as hard as I could to draw his attention.  I might have overdone it, but it seems like he wasn’t aware of my intentions and simply stared at me intently as I headed towards the warehouse.

 

As soon as he noticed the warehouse was lit up, he stopped wandering around the campfire and followed me to there.  It’s been going just as planned, the rest is up to me.

 

I slowly entered the warehouse, making sure he saw me.  The lantern on the ceiling was lit, and looking around, there was only fodder and fertilizer, nothing that could be used to escape.  The hay did its job and worked as a blind spot.  I was relieved.

 

I continued making noises, snorting from beyond the entrance.

 

My heart was pounding.  If everything goes according to plan, he should enter the warehouse with his dagger out.  I reminded myself of Jess’ petting to calm myself.

 

(Are you ready, Jess?)

 

Yes, I’m hiding… just at the back of the warehouse.

 

Good.  Unlike that time during the festival, Jess wasn’t watching right now.  This introvert is going to break out and do his best to fight for this girl who is trembling nearby!

 

As expected, the smell of tobacco, dirty hair, and menthol grew stronger, and the guy entered the warehouse.  I slipped by him with a nonchalant look and exited the warehouse.

 

The guy glanced at me-

 

Now!

 

I stomped on my injured hind leg.  I pictured Jess’ face when she cheered me on onstage.  I must protect her.  I aimed at the guy’s back knee, and… Charge!

 

A pig’s skull is pretty hard, so the impact was not a big deal for me, but for him, he lost his balance and fell over.

 

“This fucking pig…!”

 

I backed up, and charged towards his flank again as he tried to get back up.

 

But it looks like I activated my scrawny four-eyed skill.  The guy was more agile than expected, and he swung his leather bag at me, which I failed to dodge.  It was a direct hit to my flank and the stones inside the bag shook my guts.

 

Oof!

 

I thought of Jess’ smile.  This guy in front of me was going to harm that smile.

 

I twisted my body to minimize the momentum loss of my sprint and crashed into his body with my nose.  It worked, and he released his grip on the bag.  Without missing a beat, I took a step back, opened my mouth wide, and bit hard on his Achilles tendon.  I could hear a cracking sound.

 

“Ugaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”  The guy cried.

 

Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain run down my spine and my body stiffened.

 

What’s this?  This might be bad.  I thought, as I retreated out the warehouse.

 

(Now, Jess!  Close the door!)

 

Jess immediately came over when I called.  She closed and locked the heavy warehouse door at a speed that was unimaginable coming from a girl like her.  I could hear the cries of pain from that guy from inside.

 

Awesome, it worked.

 

(Good job, Jess!  It’s alright now!)

 

I tried to walk towards her, but my hind legs wouldn’t listen.  I fell on the ground with a thud.  My body instinctively curled up.  What’s going on?

 

Jess was frozen in place, staring at me in shock, while I tried to pinpoint the source of this pain.

 

Something warm was pouring out of me.  A dagger was lodged deep into my back.

 

It’s ironic that I failed to realize this world wasn’t just a dream until I was about to die.

 

It’s impossible to not wake up after experiencing pain that was as realistic as this.  I once had a dream of being stabbed in the back, but that time I bent over like a shrimp and was immediately jolted awake.  I guess I really was reincarnated into another world.

 

It wasn’t just a dream.

 

I laid on my side with my legs twitching, and I looked at her face which was tilted at a right angle.  It hurts.  It’s cold.  Am I… going to die?

 

Don’t… Mister Pig… Please don’t die.

 

She transmitted her thoughts to me while lightly touching my neck.  That tickles.

 

I’m sorry…  Um, what… what can I do?

 

There’s nothing you can do.  There’s no way to avoid death unless you’re in a world with magic.

 

Jess’ head shot up.  I knew what she was thinking.  She was probably planning to steal a black rista from the Quiltlins again.

 

(You can’t, Jess.  Don’t trouble yourself any further for my sake.)

 

But at this rate, you’ll die.

 

(Yeah.  It was only for a short while, but I had a lot of fun.)

 

How can this be!  Weren’t you going to the capital with me?!

 

(Forget it.  You should just take care of your errands.  No need to worry about mine.)

 

That’s not… That’s not what I meant at all.

 

What is she trying to say?

 

Um… I still haven’t shown Mister Pig my naked body.  Even though you told me to save it until the time was right…

 

(That’s just some nonsense from a scrawny four-eyed shitty virgin.  Forgive me.)

 

I’m getting sleepy.  It must be from the lack of oxygen in my brain due to the loss of blood.  As my consciousness faded, I thought to myself: Isn’t this peak bliss, to die while being cared for by a cute girl?

 

Please…  Don’t leave me alone…

 

My sight and hearing became foggy.  Only Jess’ mournful wish made its way into my consciousness.

 

However, even that wish soon unraveled like a silk thread.

 

In my dreams, I recalled how that guy hit me with his bag.  Those hard rocks inside that bag…

 

What am I doing, thinking about pointless things?

 

To get one last look at Jess, I closed my eyes and focused all of my attention to them.  Dying here sure beats dying of food poisoning a hell of a lot more.  Isn’t it great that I get to have a cute girl see me off?

 

I opened my eyes to behold my final scene.

 

All I saw was the dark meadow.

2 comments:

KITEG said...

Thanks for the translation, I would like to ask you something about your translations, my discord is #0407, please write me when you have time

Aaron said...

Fun fact, pigs are actually smarter then dogs, and are very intelligent.

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