Taming The Villainesses

Chapter 425: Small and Trivial Habit (4)

Human happiness can, surprisingly, be fulfilled with very little.

Sleep well, dress well, eat well, and sleep well again.

It sounds simple, but in reality, it's quite difficult. In life, there’s often at least one of those things you can’t quite maintain.

In that sense, the Hunter’s party wasn’t satisfying any of those conditions.

So if they lost patience while the smell of ramen filled the cave, it wasn’t all that strange.

The warrior woman spoke.

“Don’t play innocent. You did this on purpose. Sealed the scent inside the cave and ate in front of us like you were showing off. While we’re out here chewing on bugs.”

It seemed she thought we’d cooked this meal just to mess with them.

Well... it wasn’t intentional, but...

“Trade us that ramen—for information.”

No need to ruin a conversation that was going unexpectedly well.

After all, I got this ramen in a whole box from Leadernoi.

—"This is ramen only the president can eat in this village, yes...! But now that Taonoi and I are basically like siblings, I’ll share it with you, yes...!"

Leadernoi’s warehouse had been stacked with the stuff.

It’d be nice if they shared it with the village, since there’s an expiration date and all... Anyway.

I said:

“I’ll give you three.”

Just as I raised three fingers, the priestess Miriam, who had been boiling a pot in the back, frowned and tried to stop the warrior.

“Rene, what are you doing?”

So the warrior’s name was Rene?

I couldn’t decide whether that suited her or not.

Warrior Rene brushed off Miriam’s protest and said:

“We’ve been eating nothing but weird greens and shrimp-flavored bugs for months. I want real human food for once.”

“Don’t be ridiculous...”

Even the priestess who tried to stop her looked visibly shaken.

Once Rene had made up her mind, it was probably impossible to stop her.

Glance, glance.

Miriam looked between Rene, me, and the Hunter grilling his corpse-worm on a stick near the fire, then finally let out a deep sigh and said:

“Ten packets. And if you have anything for washing, give us that too. Oil for hair, soap for hands and feet—I'm sure you’ve got that kind of stuff.”

Of course I had soap and oil.

Enough to give away for free.

But from what I’ve experienced, there’s no such thing as a “free” in this world. Anything you get for nothing will just end up giving you stomach trouble.

Fair trades are always the least troublesome.

Still, ten packets? That’s a bit much.

There are usually 30 in a box. We’d just eaten four. If I gave away ten, we’d only have about half left.

Was this really a fair trade?

I asked, lightly probing:

“How we negotiate should depend on how valuable the information you’re offering really is.”

It might end up being a huge disappointment.

But then, Rene raised one finger and spoke seriously.

“You guys are headed to the Final City, right? We know a shortcut there. And we’ve got a map of the inside. That’s enough, isn’t it?”

“Is that true?”

Even as I asked, I was thinking.

This was an unexpected windfall.

A shortcut into the city—and a map?

As I fell silent in thought, Rene added in a bargaining tone:

“You were saying earlier, right? That monsters have swarmed near the city and that going in wouldn’t be easy. You’re right. But if you know the easy way in, it’s a different story.”

“That’s true.”

Honestly, I wanted to trade right away.

But I had five companions—five wives.

So I had to ask their opinion first.

It was technically my ramen, but it was meant to be shared with them in the first place.

“What do you all think?”

At my question, Mirna turned to Rene and asked:

“How many days could we save with the shortcut?”

Flick.

Rene held up three fingers.

“Three days minimum. You’d be trading two meals for three days saved. And it’s the safest route. That’s not a bad deal.”

Three days.

If we really could save three days, ten packets of ramen was more than worth it. Even four packets per meal would only last three days at 36 total...

Just doing the math—it was a win.

Mirna seemed to realize that too, because she said, “I think it’s a good deal.”

Narmee and the other girls also nodded quietly in agreement.

It was a good deal.

I took some hair oil and soap from my inventory—《Squirrel Storage》—and handed it over.

Though right now, what they needed more was food than soap.

“This stuff? You can give it to the dogs for all I care.”

Rene shoved aside the plants and berries Miriam had laid out on the cutting board.

She eyed the boiling pot and the ramen packets with a furrowed brow.

I asked casually:

“Want me to help?”

Cooking ramen isn’t hard. But if you didn’t know how, you could waste a perfectly good packet.

Still, pride got the better of them.

“No thanks,” they said flatly.

The two women grunted and squinted at the writing on the packets.

I was just about to step in before they ruined something valuable when the Hunter, who had been grilling his corpse-worm, made a move.

He reached out his long arm and snatched the packet from his companions’ hands.

He read the writing for a moment, then tore it open and dumped the contents into the boiling water.

Not exactly graceful, but at least he knew how to do it.

Maybe he’d been watching me cook earlier?

It wouldn’t be surprising—he’s observant like a true Hunter. Even copying me wouldn’t be strange.

He cooked the ramen a bit clumsily.

Bubble, bubble.

He stared into the pot, took a wooden spoon, and sipped the broth.

“Mm...” he groaned like a sick man.

“Rene. Bring me that thing.”

“That thing?”

“The red one. Like blood.”

Rene rummaged through her pouch and handed him a tiny vial, about the size of a thumb.

The Hunter uncorked it and squeezed a spoonful of thick, syrupy liquid into the soup.

Soon, the scent of faint tomatoes wafted through the cave.

Did he just add tomato ketchup to the broth?

I guess his wild instincts work in cooking, too.

A man of taste, I see.

***

After finishing the meal, we exchanged stories or traded belongings with each other.

Rene and Miriam, whose initial reactions had been sharp and guarded, eventually burst into laughter as they listened to our tales.

“Who the hell goes on a honeymoon to a place that dangerous? You people aren’t normal. Then again, I guess you’re not as bad as our Hunter here.”

At that, Elga responded with a smirk.

“If we’re talking crazy, our Taeo isn’t exactly sane either.”

...Why are they making this some kind of competition?

Regardless, Elga got along with the Hunter’s party surprisingly quickly.

She shared a sense of camaraderie with Rene, both of them being warrior princesses (투희), and had a common fondness for cute and beautiful things with the priestess Miriam—so it made sense they had plenty to talk about.

While the women chatted away, washing their hands and feet with the oils we’d provided, Mirna sidled up beside me and whispered.

“Just look at Lady Leones. She’s acting like she’s known them for years. It’s hard to believe she was growling at them just a moment ago.”

“Maybe... that version of her was the real one all along.”

“...The real one?”

Mirna tilted her head, not quite understanding.

But I knew that Elga was originally supposed to join the Hunter’s party midway through the novel.

While the other noble ladies had fallen into villainy and were eventually defeated, Elga alone became the protagonist’s comrade and survived to the end.

That alone made it clear—Elga was never a villain to begin with.

Just then, Elga asked,

“So? Why are you guys trying to go to that wrecked city? What could you possibly want in there?”

At her question, the priestess and the warrior exchanged glances.

Rene, grinning with her fanglike teeth bared, was the first to answer.

“To die gloriously and return to the embrace of the Great Mother Earth.”

“For me, it’s for research. A personal, religious reason. And that man...”

Miriam’s gaze turned to the Hunter, who sat in the corner with his eyes closed.

Her blue eyes shimmered with layered emotion—pity, compassion, and perhaps even guilt.

“He said it’s for revenge. I don’t know the details. Honestly, we don’t even know his real name or his past.”

A gentle laugh escaped her lips.

Her refined tone and use of honorifics reminded me a bit of Mirna, which made her seem unexpectedly endearing.

“But we just can’t leave him alone, you know? He’s like a wounded beast. Something about him stirs my maternal °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° instincts. Lady Leones, do you understand that feeling?”

To that, Elga scratched her cheek.

“You feel motherly toward that monster of a man? I don’t get it. Well, I suppose people have all kinds of tastes. Still—washing like this just makes me want a real bath.”

Whip.

Turning her head, Elga called over to me.

“Hey, I’m thinking of taking a proper shower here. You boys—out.”

Wait, outside? In this freezing cold?

At that moment, Narmee spoke up.

“I wanted to wash too. This is perfect! We’ve got plenty of oil and water, so let’s all get clean! You said you wanted to wash too, right, sis?”

“Well, yeah, but...”

Slide.

Just then, the Hunter, who had been leaning silently against the wall with his eyes closed, stood up.

He draped his hat and leather coat over himself and stepped out of the cave.

He was clearing the space for the women.

I had no choice but to follow him out.

The chilly, fog-breathing air outside stung my skin. Reminded me of doing perimeter duty in the army during the dead of winter.

“......”

The Hunter said nothing.

He just stared into the surroundings with his crimson-black eyes.

For some reason, I felt like this moment—a rare chance to talk to him—was a kind of blessing in disguise.

“How have you been?”

“......”

No reply.

Well, I expected that. Not exactly a chatty guy.

Still, I wasn’t about to give up that easily.

“Your hair’s gone completely white. Did you dye it?”

“Winter.”

“...Sorry?”

“The winter of life has come.”

He spoke in a hoarse voice, like something deep and frozen was scraping its way out.

The winter of life...?

He probably meant he’d grown older and his hair turned white.

But that still surprised me.

“I didn’t think you were that old.”

I’d estimated the Hunter to be in his thirties—maybe forties at most.

But to have hair that white... he’d have to be at least in the twilight of life.

The Hunter said:

“I’ve lived far longer than you think. I had a wife. A child, too.”

Clap.

Out of nowhere, he clapped his hands.

“No—forget all of that. Just now.”

And with that, he shut his mouth tight.