STABLE BOY ; Trash of the Count's Family

18. TERRIBLE DAY OFF

Frazzled, he realized he still had a needle and the jacket in his hands, but the sun was high in the sky and he was hungry. He's sweating, and— when did he even fall asleep?

Oh.

"You're interfering with my business, can you go?"

"Ah— yes!"

Right. This is what happens when he doesn't take his medicine.

-

Suddenly having monetary money is kind of scary.

South didn't know how to read, but he did vaguely understand how to count. And after buying some skewers and candy, he started to feel very afraid of the pouch in his pocket.

"I don't even know how to count money and he gave me so much, how am I supposed to spend it all before the day is up?" he wanted to cry. "If I throw this all into the nearest orphanage will that be okay? No no bad idea. Orphanages are full of shitty adults. Then what, should I buy a whole bar their drinks..."

He was panicking. He was so full he couldn't eat anymore, but he barely touched a tenth of the money. The pouch actually got heavier because now he had a lot of small change.

He yawned.

Now he hid out in an alley, where it was quiet and out of sight. He didn't know how people spend money, he'd never spent money for anything other than food in his life.

"Ah, that's right, Choi Han-ssi is leaving tomorrow, maybe I should get something for him... his sword hilt is just a mess of cloth that's falling apart..."

South made to leave, but someone stood in front of him.

Then another.

"So this is the one?"

Commoners—? no. Their clothes were clean and kempt. So, these guys were likely commoners that worked for nobles.

Their gait was straight and their gazes turned up - stablehands and maids looked down, to avoid offending or confronting people, so these guys were probably meaning coachmen and butlers, since they always met people in the eyes when addressing them.

"Yeah. The Henituse guys replaced their previous apprentice."

"Heh. As usual, they pick the small-looking ones. You think that punk has a thing for this type?"

South stepped back just a little. Turning around, he found he was surrounded on the other side as well. Now there were four bigger men closing in on him.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me..."

Sunbae told him that he should be safe, since this was just a stop-by town. This wasn't even a place with affiliations to the Stan house, so why? Sure, South knew about how bad the rivalry between the servants of Stand and Henituse could be, but...

...ah, right. Taylor Stan was in town right now. Sunbae wouldn't know that.

Even if he came here quietly, there would be a few of his family's servants with him. And with how much noise Hillsman and the others made yesterday, they must have noticed and decided to target the defenseless stable boy.

"Hey kid," one of them called, "don't you know you shouldn't be holding something so nice-looking out here?"

"Yeah. You could get mugged."

"By bad uncles like us, you know... and no one would even know who did it."

"And you'd be the only one at fault."

South scowled. What a bad time to be wearing new clothes. He was also holding the nice jacket he got from the young master— agh, this is so annoying.

Reaching up, he let his hair loose from the needle that held it up. He dropped the jacket on the ground and reached for his dagger, too.

"Did you do this to the coachman's apprentice last time, too?" South sighed. "Seems kind of cowardly to do this behind your master's backs. What if people realize this was the standard of Stan family servants?"

The one at the front scoffed at that.

"Once you're dead, and we all keep quiet— no one will know," he said. And he was right, "no one will care if one insignificant servant of some Trash gets killed and dumped in an alley. There are always bad people in every corner."

South sighed.

"Fine. You want to fight, then you'll get one..." he's not weak, even if he's not a knight. "If there's nothing on you to prove you're from Stan, then no one will complain if some of you guys die, right?"

And the Henituse reputation for Cale is already trash, anyways. No one should care if one of his servants is known around town as some homicidal maniac. Cale would probably just spend his time wondering if they're talking about Ron or Choi Han.

The guys around him laugh.

"You think you can take all of us?"

"Hmm," South considered that. "You're right. Are you sure you don't want to bring even more people to beat up one person?"

That seemed to irk them, and South took that chance to strike, aiming between the legs first, then taking the momentum to go for the eyes of the next one.

They howled, the first one doubling over in pain while the other yelled, cradling his eyes where South had slashed just below his eyes, a deep cut that would be sure to scar.

"Wha—"

The other two behind South yelled, "you won't get away!"

But South was already running, trying to get out of the alley and into the streets. No way he'll be fighting four bigger men, he wasn't suicidal.

He stumbled ona step, had to kick through an empty box on the ground. Those guys were persistent, and their steps were larger than his in this small alley.

And then, the world tilted, and his head swayed in a familiar way.

Shit, he cursed to himself. I didn't take my medicine toda—

He couldn't stop it. His eyes were already closing.