Ugly Guy, Hardcore Fighter-Chapter 81: Living by Saying Thank You

-Thank you DCRangeRange, Dean Dexter and Cannedbread
Follow me on Patreon via Linktree https://linktr.ee/Mnotia-

The next morning, the Visbridge Selenoa Branch was holding a serious management meeting before opening.

The only furniture that could really be called furniture was the single sofa Ria had occupied yesterday.

There was no desk.

No chairs either.

If a customer came, unless Ria moved, we had no choice but to seat them on the floor.

“Even if we seat them on the floor, people in this country would probably thank the floor, wouldn’t they?”

“Rejected. Shigeru-san, let’s go buy furniture.”

The branch account had 60 Gratia that everyone had deposited yesterday. We wrote out what we needed and headed for the distribution store in the Central Plaza.

Yesterday we had gotten by on the preserved food we’d brought, and this morning even the leftovers ran out. We needed not just furniture, but food as well.

I walked one step behind.

The amount I had earned myself was zero.

Even though I knew it was money for all of us to use, when it came time to actually shop, my feet felt just a little heavy.

“Shigeru-san.”

Seika-san stopped.

“You’ll use a desk too, won’t you, Shigeru-san?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then please choose one with us. Even if the people of this country don’t know about the water you fixed, Shigeru-san, we do.”

Being told that so plainly made me uncomfortable.

I scratched my head and walked ahead.

“Let’s go with the cheapest ones we can.”

“Yes.”

The Central Distribution Store was less a place to shop and more like a festival grounds.

Under blue awnings were baked sweets, clothing, furniture, pottery, and toys. The price tags bore only numbers in Gratia, and the clerks enthusiastically explained even the origins of the goods to customers.

“This cup is painted one by one by an artisan-san from the Eastern Workshop.”

“How lovely. Thank you for explaining in such detail.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

The moment Seika-san thanked her, a light of gratitude flowed into the clerk’s bracelet, and the number increased by one.

It wasn’t payment for selling the product.

It was gratitude for introducing a good item.

“Wait a second. Who receives the payment for the cup?”

“It returns to the national treasury.”

The female clerk answered without even looking as if she’d been asked something strange.

“The goods are delivered from state-approved workshops. The Gratia used for purchases returns to the national treasury and is distributed as the next blessing.”

“Then what about your wages?”

“I receive gratitude from those who were pleased by my guidance.”

The clerk smiled brightly.

I smiled back.

Only time passed.

“Shigeru-san.”

Seika-san said in a small voice.

“Aren’t you going to say thank you?”

“When you demand it like that, it actually makes it harder to say.”

“I’m not demanding it!”

“Thank you.”

A light appeared between my bracelet and the clerk’s, and the clerk’s number increased by one.

My bracelet remained at 0. It seemed I hadn’t handed over any Gratia.

The clerk’s smile deepened just a little.

It didn’t feel bad.

If you served customers politely and made them happy, you could make a living. There were no sales targets, no commission based on sales amount. The reason this clerk didn’t push products was probably because customer satisfaction itself became her income.

It was a good system.

At least, if you looked only at what was right in front of you.

The branch desks were 3 Gratia each.

Three large, unscratched desks. Eight folding chairs. A complete set of white dishes. Blankets and tea leaves for visitors. Even after buying all that, there was still plenty left.

“Cheap, huh.”

“The kingdom keeps prices down for daily necessities.”

The old man at the furniture section puffed out his chest proudly.

“Anyone can eat, sleep, and be treated when they get sick. Abel-sama made this country that way.”

“That’s amazing.”

Seiji-san said that from the heart.

With that one word, the old man’s bracelet shone.

The old man didn’t look like he’d received money; he looked like something he had believed in for a long time had been acknowledged.

Here, money and emotion were close.

But they were not the same.

At a shelf a little farther away, Ria was holding two Hero Ardeen dolls.

“Look. This one is the normal version, and this one is the Founding Festival limited edition with the red cloak.”

“We don’t need it.”

“It’ll be a ward for the branch.”

“They’re 12 Gratia each, you know.”

“That’s cheap.”

“That’s four desks’ worth.”

Kato-kun calmly snatched them away and put them back on the shelf.

Looking closely, hero dolls covered an entire shelf. There were also Abel portrait plates, Gratitude Bird ornaments, and sugar candies shaped like blue flowers piled up in mountains.

The food shelf next to it had strangely many gaps.

“Flour?”

“Today’s supply is finished.”

“Bread?”

“Please wait for the afternoon shipment.”

“Do you have metal fittings for a well valve?”

“It will take about twelve days to order them.”

Instead, apparently you could buy a hundred blue-flower-shaped cookies right now.

“If you can eat it, it’s all the same, right?”

When I grabbed a bag, Seiji-san quietly put it back.

“It’s the branch’s operating expenses.”

“It’s the employees’ life-support expenses.”

In the end, Seika-san persuaded Seiji-san with “It’s the branch’s food expenses,” and put just one bag of cookies into the shopping basket.

At the checkout counter, Seiji-san held up his bracelet and selected the branch account. The cost of the purchases was deducted all at once.

The light did not enter the clerk’s bracelet; it was sucked into the kingdom’s crest engraved on the pedestal.

So that was how the payment for goods returned to the national treasury.

It seemed the only thing the clerk could receive was gratitude from customers.

Past noon, just as we finished loading the furniture onto the cart, the plaza bell rang.

Then came a scream.

Beyond the crowd, a cart loaded with fruit was running out of control. The driver was thrown off, and ahead on the street a mother and small child stood frozen.

Seiji-san ran forward.

A red shadow passed over his head.

“This is what people call me. The Wandering Hero Ardeen!”

The fake Ardeen, who had jumped down from the roof, scooped up the child in his left arm.

He pushed the side of the cart with his right hand and stopped it in three steps, carving a long groove into the stone paving.

This time, cheers rose from the crowd.

Fruit danced into the air.

The fake Ardeen returned the child to the mother and, with a casual motion, caught one of the falling red apples.

“Evil has no name to proclaim. But if I dare to name myself, I am the indomitable crimson lotus soul—Ardeen!”

No one had asked for the villain’s name.

But it was cool.

Honestly, it was extremely cool.

The citizens’ gratitude gathered as light into the fake Ardeen.

He handed the apple to the crying child and placed his left hand over his chest.

Tilting his face slightly, he smiled.

“Give your thanks not to me, but to the people who love you. Farewell. Let us meet again where a voice calls for help.”

Turning on his right foot, he swept his cloak and disappeared into an alley.

Seiji-san stood with the hand he’d extended to help still half-raised.

“Too bad.”

“It’s not a competition. If a life was saved, that’s enough.”

His words were perfect.

Only his profile looked a little frustrated.

A Gratitude Recording Officer with a blue armband came into the crowd.

He asked the mother and the driver the same questions and recorded the fake Ardeen’s name in large letters. By tomorrow morning, a public notice of the rescue would be posted on the town’s Gratitude Bulletin Board, apparently.

He was the same efficient official I’d seen at the orphanage.

Black text ran across the newspaper page Seika-san was holding.

『Wandering Hero Ardeen Saves Mother and Child from Runaway Cart』

Less than a minute had passed since the incident.

Under the headline, there was even an illustration of the hero holding out a red apple.

“You’re still the strongest, huh.”

The newspaper didn’t answer.

As if it didn’t know it had been praised, it simply continued producing new articles.

That night.

Even by afternoon, the bread never arrived. By the time we finished unpacking, the communal cafeteria was already closed.

Around the brand-new desks, we ate a slightly late dinner.

The chairs didn’t wobble, blue flowers were painted on the cups, and in the window was the Visbridge sign.

The gratitude we had all worked for had changed into the shape of a life.

I thought it was a good country.

Except that dinner had been nothing but blue-flower cookies.

-Thank you DCRangeRange, Dean Dexter and Cannedbread
Follow me on Patreon via Linktree https://linktr.ee/Mnotia-