Chapter 13: The fat aristocrat tries to buy a gauntlet

“Oh my, is there really armor that could fit a half-orc like you?!”

The owner of Meln Workshop said this.

As soon as Mitrof entered the store, an old woman who was adjusting a leather armor on a wooden mannequin noticed him and looked him up and down with a piercing gaze.

“Isn’t it rude to refer to customers as Orcs?!”

Grace pushed aside a surprised Mitrof and stepped forward.

“Customers! A customer is someone who pays money! You haven’t even paid a single copper coin! Where are the customers?—And it’s a fact that this kid is fat!”

“Mitrof can still move around well and can fight with fangs!—Don’t put him in the same category as orcs! Besides, we came to this shop with the intention of paying money!—You may treat us as potential customers!”

“Hmph! You’re quite articulate, young lady!—Alright then, tell me what you want!”

“Mitrof, tell them!”

Suddenly, the two of them turned their gazes towards Mitrof, causing him to open his mouth in surprise.

“What a ridiculous face he’s making!—Those ballooned cheeks look like those of a young orc!”

“Mitrof, pull yourself together!”

Okay,” Mitrof nodded.

Mitrof was taken aback by how loud she became, as if she were an old woman who was losing her marbles.

“I want a small shield or gauntlet to defend against the monster’s attacks.”

“A shield, you say?”

The old woman looked at Mitrof’s body again, then walked over and started tapping his body like a drum.

“Ow, ow, hey!”

“You’re making too much noise!—A man should endure without complaining!”

The old woman scoffed and hit Mitrof’s left arm.

“There’s no way you can handle a shield when you’ve never even trained properly—you’ve never learned how to use a shield, have you?”

“Well, no…but using a shield is just about defending from attacks, right?”

She hit him on the head with a “pan!”


“Do you want to die?! A small shield may be lighter than a large shield, but it’s more difficult to handle!—It’s something you have to receive and deflect, not just block!”

“Th-then, what about a larger shield?”

“Are you stupid?! Holding something that heavy will only kill your advantage in dodging and fighting!—Your excess fat is already in the way!”

Mitrof watched the old woman swear, feeling a little impressed.
After hitting various places, she seemed to have assessed Mitrof’s muscle development and judged his fighting style.

Although she had a foul mouth, she was saying something useful for Mitrof.

“Certainly, this boy’s habits were quite strong, but his arms were undoubtedly strong.”

“Then, um, what do you recommend?”

One of Mitrof’s strengths was being able to leave certain matters to those who knew better than him.

That was undoubtedly a way of thinking that he had learned from his life as a noble.

He throws complicated things at someone capable.
If he wants good wine, he commands someone knowledgeable about wine, if he wants to wear fashionable clothes in the capital, he commands the tailor to investigate and make them.

He does not bother studying wine or researching fashion trends in the capital himself.

Such efforts would be nothing but a waste.

What he wants at that moment is not knowledge but wine and clothes.

Now, what Mitrof seeks is armor and a small shield or gauntlets made of thick cloth to protect him from monster attacks in case of emergency.

The old woman in front of him has a foul mouth and even calls Mitrof a half-orc, making her seem difficult to please.
Even so, she has the knowledge to choose suitable armor for Mitrof.
Then Mitrof has nothing to complain about.

Mitrof does not want to be respected as a noble or have pleasant interactions to make shopping more enjoyable.
He only wants good armor to protect his life.


The old woman scratched the side of her nose and pointed to something on the mannequin’s arm.

“Well, this is probably it.
It’s a gauntlet with thick, overlapping scales.
The leather is held together with studs, so it doesn’t hinder arm movements.
It’s softer compared to iron, but it can handle the attacks of low-level monsters without any problem.
However, you shouldn’t try to catch edged weapons such as clubs or axes.
The impact would kill you—your bones would snap.”

“Okay, I’ll take it.”

“Are you sure?!”

Grace was surprised.

“Huh? But it’s a good item, isn’t it?—It’s perfect for what I was looking for.”

“Well, that’s true, but… there are procedures like trying it on, negotiating the price, and taking your time to think.”

“But isn’t it the customer’s job to pay money?—Buy it first—we can sort out the details later.”

“…Hmph—for a kid, you seem to understand the reasoning.”

The price of leather gauntlets was not cheap.

For Mitrof, a fledgling adventurer, it was a heavy burden to determine how many days he would need to spend in the labyrinth to save enough money.

As long as craftsmen make each piece by hand, there is no reason for weapons and armor to become cheaper.
Mitrof hesitated, but Grace offered to pay half, saying, “We made a promise.” Mitrof felt sorry for this and made a resolution to return the same amount to Grace.

Having purchased the gauntlet, Mitrof was now a customer, but the old woman’s attitude did not change.
However, there was no hint of laziness in her workmanship.

She adjusted the belt of the gauntlet to fit Mitrof’s thick arm, asked about its comfort and any discomfort he felt, and made fine adjustments accordingly.

She taught him how to care for it, despite her rough manner of speaking.

She would always remind him to bring it in if it broke or received a major scratch.
Surprisingly, she seemed like a caring and anxious old woman.

Mitrof left the shop with a leather gauntlet on his arm.

The old woman told him that it would take some time for the leather to fit his arm.
Therefore, he planned to leave it on for a while to make it fit.

At the same time, as he made excuses, his childish heart was tickled by the fact that he had his own set of armor on his arms.
Putting it on, the dark, oiled gauntlets looked very cool.

“Mitrof, it looks like you’re enjoying it.”

“… You caught me.
I really like it—thank you, Grace.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Grace nodded, looking somewhat satisfied.

The two of them moved to the side street between the shops and looked out onto the street.

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