Translator: Nox

Chapter 5

“Pelfe Bank.”

The coachman scrutinized Seo-ah in silence for a moment before shrugging and snapping the carriage door shut.

Thanks to boarding the carriage as if pushed by the crowd, the suspicious figures who had been tailing her vanished. Furthermore, being alone in the carriage allowed her to take a brief, comfortable rest.

However, she hadn’t realized that the carriage fare would be so expensive.

“To think a carriage would cost more than the train.”

From the moment she left her hometown, money had become a finite resource, requiring her to carefully weigh her holdings against her expenses. Recalling her journey to Pelfe Bank, Seo-ah habitually calculated the figures in her head.

“How much is left?”

The inside of her coat was lined with numerous pockets. Among them was her pouch. As she counted the remaining money, her face turned pale.

Even adding up all the small change, she only had 120,000 Kerete.

Though she had yet to adapt to this unfamiliar civilization called the Nofuk Continent, she knew enough to realize that the money on hand wouldn’t last her more than a few days, let alone a week.

What had gone wrong?

Had she been scammed during the currency exchange? Or had she overpaid for the carriage, the train… or perhaps the boat?

The problem was that she had no idea what mistake she might have made.

The only consolation was that she had safely arrived at her first destination, Pelfe Bank.

Just then, she sensed someone approaching.

Seo-ah quickly pulled her coat closed and straightened her posture. As she hurriedly fastened her buttons, the door opened and a staff member entered. Her heart, which had been peaceful for a moment, began to thud again, and her gaze dropped downward as if pulled by an invisible force.

“Thank you for waiting.”

The employee spoke in a soft, pleasant tone laced with a smile and sat across from her. In her half-obstructed field of vision, she could see his smiling lips.

“The verification results have confirmed the key is authentic. I apologize for my inadequate initial response. I ask for your kind understanding.”

Relieved, Seo-ah replied, “Yes, I understand.”

“…….”

Had she given a strange answer? She had only responded as she had been taught. The employee’s reaction was lukewarm, but since Seo-ah had no way of knowing what was odd about her response, she simply remained silent. Usually, silence was the safest middle ground.

As expected, the employee got straight to the point.

“We will proceed with a few verification steps. Are you the original person who opened this vault?”

Staring at the corner of the documents placed before the employee, Seo-ah tried her best to maintain a composed expression as she answered.

“No.”

The corners of the employee’s mouth dipped slightly before curling back up.

“I see. In principle, the right to open a vault belongs solely to the person who opened it. However, as this vault has remained unclaimed for twenty years, the ownership rights of the key holder are also recognized as of 210 days ago. Please understand, however, that the process is complicated and time-consuming if you are not the original depositor.”

“I understand.”

The employee tilted his head, then shrugged and replied.

“Um… yes, thank you.”

“Ah, then… can I receive the Acquisition Confirmation Certificate today?”

The employee paused and stared at Seo-ah, then asked somewhat probingly, “You seem quite well-informed regarding the vault withdrawal procedures.”

“…Is it a secret?”

“Of course not.”

The employee pushed the familiar black tray toward Seo-ah.

“I need an official document to prove your identity. Did you bring one?”

Seo-ah began rummaging through her coat as if she had been waiting for this, and the longer she searched, the more the employee’s professional smile began to fade.

He watched in disbelief as she searched with such intensity that sweat beaded on her face, catching glimpses of the staggering number of pockets inside. He felt he could bet his entire fortune that the woman before him was using that old coat as a giant wallet.

Finally, the woman’s face brightened slightly, and something emerged from the coat. What appeared at first glance to be a handkerchief was, surprisingly, an item of extreme luxury. It had a sleek luster that made it hard to believe it had come out of such a worn-out coat.

The woman placed it on the tray, and the employee retrieved it. The object, which felt heavier than a mere handkerchief, gave off a faint, lingering warmth.

Strange. Why is she wearing it like that?

Since she was suspicious from head to toe, he couldn’t help but be curious. He wondered what this woman’s identity could possibly be.

With a strangely racing heart, the employee unfolded her identification document. At that moment, the professional smile that had been frozen on his face vanished like a mist.

He blinked blankly, looking at the woman, then the document, then back at the woman again. The woman, who was watching him like a cornered rabbit, asked, “Is there a problem?”

“Ah… well…”

The employee trailed off.

There was a problem. It was just difficult to say it out loud.

In all his years as an intellectual on the Nofuk Continent, he had never encountered a case like this.

The employee pressed his lips together and looked at the document again. Not that doing so solved the problem.

The issue was that, in the document the woman had handed him, there wasn’t a single character he recognized.

---

Seo-ah thought to herself.

When she had been pushed into the carriage by the crowd—that had been her chance.

She shouldn’t have asked to go to the bank; she should have asked for an inn. After a good night’s rest, she should have come to the bank at daybreak.

To jump to the conclusion, the identity document she had carried so preciously was put on hold.

After scrutinizing the document from every angle for a long time, the employee had hurriedly brought over several other staff members. They huddled together like sparrows over feed, staring intently at the document and even holding it up to the light.

She was watching them in bewilderment when one of them suddenly asked:

“Which country issued this certificate?”

If boarding the carriage was her first chance, then the second and final chance was undoubtedly when she heard that question.

The moment they asked that, despite the characters written so clearly at the very top.

“Danguk.”

“…The authorities?”

“Dan. Guk.”

“Dian Kingdom?”

“Dan. Guk.”

“Dian Kingdom?”

“…Yes, I think that’s right.”

Instead of exchanging such pointless words, she should have asked point-blank if they couldn’t read the characters. She should have told them she’d allow them to make a copy to find someone who could translate and verify it, then said she would return later, taken the Acquisition Confirmation Certificate, and left immediately.

While she hesitated like a fool, unable to speak her mind, night had fallen completely. In her defense, the VIP reception room had no windows, so she hadn’t realized how late it had grown.

After a long-winded tug-of-war, they reached the conclusion that it was currently untranslatable. Only after spending dozens of minutes transcribing the identification document did the employee finally draft the paper certifying her as the key holder.

It was after the other employees had scurried away like sparrows and she had received the completed certificate that she felt a chilling presence.

‘What is…?’

Her muscles, which had been limp like wilted grass from the heat and boredom, contracted sharply in a conditioned reflex. Instinctively, she held her breath and traced the source of the dread that made the back of her neck go cold.

The chill was seeping in from outside the door the staff used.

It wasn’t just a feeling or an illusion. She felt the hair on her body stand on end.

This wasn’t the presence of an ordinary person. These were footsteps of someone deliberately stifling their presence. And it wasn’t just someone walking quietly; she could sense the footsteps of those trained in the art of stealth beyond the door.

One person? No, it seemed to be two.

Scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch.

Seo-ah hid herself and prayed like prey waiting for a predator to pass.

Please pass by, please.

But the muffled footsteps stopped exactly in front of this room. Then, they drew closer to the door.

As if they were pressing an ear against it.

Her heart pounded as if it might explode.

It was then.

A knock, uniquely slow and leisurely, broke the quiet air.

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

Seo-ah looked up instantly and immediately locked eyes with a pair of green pupils.

“……!”

The employee, who had undoubtedly been scrutinizing her, gave a thin smile as if he had been waiting for this. Then, he glanced behind him and stood up.

“My apologies. I will return shortly, so please wait a moment. Since it is late, I shall call a carriage for you.”

“…….”

Instead of answering, Seo-ah simply nodded.

Stay calm.

I have to stay calm.

Suppressing the urge to jump up and run away immediately, she watched the employee’s movements with bated breath. When the employee walked over and finally opened the staff-only door, Seo-ah squeezed her eyes shut in spite of herself.