It was one of those days when I was pacing in front of the shop, unable to think of a single thing to write in my diary.
"Oh? Dolce, what are you doing out here?"
"Vice Manager... I'm struggling to find a topic for my diary."
"I see. In that case, why not try reading through your previous entries? I believe that even just re-summarizing what you've already written would serve as excellent practice."
"...You're right. I'll do that. Thank you."
With Vice Manager Caulm’s advice in mind, I headed straight back to my dormitory room and opened my diary.
My name is Dolce. I’ve been working as a bodyguard at the Bamboo Forest laundry shop for a few months now. Before this, I lived in the slums where I was born, scraping by on day labor while serving in the local vigilante corps.
I got this job through an introduction from an older brother figure I grew up with. He told me that a shop opened by one of his adventurer friends was being targeted by some suspicious characters. He said the owner was the type to pay fair wages, so he wanted me to help beef up their security. This recommendation came from the very man who had looked after me since I was a kid, back when I couldn't even hold down a proper job.
To me, work was just a means of survival. I didn't have any particular passions or dislikes, and I certainly didn't have an education. I’d done every odd job available since I was a boy, barely making a living with the help of my seniors. If I could get paid for a request from my "big brother," I had no reason to say no.
A few days later, the arrangements were made and I was called to the shop. I was stunned when I finally met the manager. He was nothing but an eleven-year-old kid.
Since I'd heard he was an adventurer friend my brother respected, I expected someone who looked tough. This boy was the complete opposite. In fact, I finally understood why people were trying to pick on the shop. He looked so weak and mild-mannered that it was almost painful. That was my first impression.
However, that was only the start of the surprises.
When we sat down to talk about my employment, he offered me an incredibly high salary that included "hazard pay," plus a free room and meals. It wasn't just "paying fair wages"—the conditions were suspiciously good. I thought there had to be some kind of catch, but I was told this was standard treatment for everyone at the shop. Having worked here for months now, I know it was the truth, but back then, I stayed on my guard.
Still, I couldn't let my big brother down by walking away. Besides, I didn't sense any ill intent or even suspicion from the kid manager. Normally, people are wary of hiring someone from the slums. Even if we aren't criminals, our reputation isn't great. You’d expect an employer to be more cautious. While the Vice Manager standing next to him did look me over with a bit of suspicion, it was still far better than any other treatment I’d received in the past.
So, I was hired. I was introduced to my senior bodyguards—a father and daughter from a foreign land.
The hand holding my pen stopped as I recalled what happened next.
...Once my employment was settled, they wanted to test my skills. I ended up sparring with the manager, and I lost.
Because he was a friend of my big brother, I intended to take the fight seriously, even if he was only eleven. I say "intended" because I barely remember the fight itself. All I remember is thrusting my spear with everything I had, and the impressed look on the manager’s face when he saw it.
The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a spare bed in the dormitory. When I asked Fei, who had been acting as the referee, he told me that the manager had dodged my spear and knocked me out with a single punch.
"That's impossible!" I’d shouted. I couldn't believe a child’s fist had taken me down in one blow. I actually pressed Fei for answers, nearly cornering him. He just pointed to the corner of the room. There sat my spear, bent into a sharp angle right in the middle. Apparently, I had instinctively pulled the spear back to block the punch, but the force of the blow had been unstoppable.
The spear was a cheap piece of work, cast from handle to tip, but that iron handle had served me well for years, both for blocking and striking. It was supposed to be sturdy. Yet, there it was, bent so badly it could never be used again.
To top it off, when the manager came to apologize with genuine sincerity for breaking my property, he looked like a perfectly normal child again. It took me an entire night to process everything.
I was depressed for a while, but now I spend my free time honing my skills.
The manager eventually brought me a new spear as an apology for the old one. I was too terrified to ask how much it cost, but it’s lighter and far stronger than my last one. It’s a top-tier weapon, without a doubt. On top of that, whenever my seniors are free, they agree to spar with me.
Those two are incredibly strong—not just the manager. I haven't managed to win a single match against either of them. Old man Gordon, who worked security here until recently, said they are powerful even by an adventurer’s standards. He mentioned he specifically never wanted to fight Fei.
Fei says it's because he comes from a dangerous country, but they are strong in a way I still can't quite grasp. That much is certain.
Since moving here, I’ve never had to worry about a roof over my head, food, money, or training partners. I’ve even continued studying how to read and write, something I started doing after being invited by the three who moved to the branch store. This diary was actually part of my studies.
The manager and the Vice Manager have been incredibly supportive. If I compare my recent pages to the first one I wrote, the difference is night and day. If I ever have to leave this place, I might actually be able to find a real job instead of just day labor. If my spear skills keep improving, becoming an adventurer might not be a bad idea either.
Though, I’m enjoying my life here so much that I have no intention of leaving anytime soon.