* * *
“I ordered sandwiches for two! At least eat before you go!”
“No!”
I need to go and calm him down!
But I don’t even know where he is, so I have to search everywhere!
“Ugh…”
Gaspar groaned in distress, but surprisingly, I felt nothing.
So what?
“Yeah! Honestly, I’m a useless mentor for Bati’s life!”
“You got that right.”
“…Though I was the one who taught him how to use a sword and made him dream of becoming an adventurer? And thanks to me, he got famous?”
“I’m leaving.”
“Ah! Just ten minutes. No, five minutes!”
Like I care!
Anyone could see that heroes are usually tall and well-built, making them seem naturally suited for combat!
Even if this gambling addict hadn’t taken him in, someone else would have, making him their apprentice!
He just happened to find him first and got lucky, but now he struts around acting like it’s his accomplishment!
“I was wrong! I was wrong, so just let me say one more thing.”
Ugh, fine.
Since I’d come all this way, leaving without doing anything felt like a waste, so I grabbed a sandwich.
Might as well eat something before going.
Consider it payment for listening to his nonsense.
“I admit I’m a terrible mentor… but that doesn’t mean I’m some criminal scumbag who deserves to die…”
Gaspar said gloomily.
That’s definitely a separate issue.
To be fair, even when he was drowning in gambling debt, Gaspar never resorted to robbing people in back alleys.
Instead, he helped market vendors in exchange for food.
So, as a person, he wasn’t completely terrible.
Hopeless, sure, but not irredeemable trash.
But the hero did call him trash, right?
So was there a misunderstanding there?
I couldn’t help but feel curious.
He said just one more thing, but I remained seated.
“Keep talking.”
“A mentor who’s just a terrible person can simply be avoided, but a criminal mentor becomes a stain on your life, you know?”
So he does see himself as a terrible person.
Well, that makes sense.
“You mean you’re being mistaken for a criminal right now?”
Gaspar nodded vigorously.
“I don’t want to go back to the way things were with Bati, like a normal mentor-apprentice relationship. I already caused too much trouble with my problems.”
“If you really think that, why not quit gambling?”
“…”
This piece of trash!
Thinking about how the supposedly cold but actually kind-hearted hero probably ran around trying to pay off his mentor’s debts made me furious.
It was beyond unfair, but cleaning up after your mentor is just part of being a disciple, I guess.
I kept saying the hero had a lot of scars, but wasn’t this guy the biggest reason he lost faith in people?
I could clearly imagine the past—every time the hero paid off his debts, Gaspar probably swore he’d quit, only to break that promise again and again.
I’ve seen plenty of adventurers’ relationships fall apart over less.
The only reason I was still sitting here was because Gaspar had no delusions about getting back on good terms with the hero.
If he had, I would’ve already thrown hot tea in his face.
“I seriously have no expectations from you anymore, so just explain what exactly the misunderstanding is.”
“You sound just like Bati.”
“Most people would say the same thing…”
I pressed him to get to the point already, and Gaspar slumped, looking sulky as he continued.
“Like, gambling away the advance payment for a commission and then not having money left to check my gear before setting out.”
This piece of trash!
“Or getting scammed at a gambling den, losing everything, getting into a fistfight, and getting arrested by the guards—forcing Bati to come bail me out in the middle of the night.”
Who the hell said the hero had a bad temper?
With his skills, if he didn’t just bury his mentor in some mountain and instead stuck around cleaning up after him, he’s practically a saint!
“Honestly, that kind of thing happened so often that Bati let it slide most of the time.”
“I think I can understand if he decides to hate people forever…”
The guy doesn’t have a single good memory of people.
And considering even his closest mentor turned out like this…
Maybe he put up with me because, compared to his mentor’s record, my mistakes seemed mild?
That’s a relief, but why does it make my heart ache?
“Th-that’s all? No, I’ll keep talking, don’t look at me like that. Of course, since that kept happening, Bati’s expectations of me dropped a lot. I knew he was only sticking with me out of loyalty to his mentor. And I was grateful for that.”
If he was grateful, he should’ve quit gambling!
I didn’t bother saying it out loud—it was pointless.
This bastard’s going to get himself stabbed in a gambling den one day.
“Then one time, Bati came to the gambling den to fetch me because a client was urgently looking for me.”
This part seemed to be the real issue.
Gaspar sighed deeply, looking miserable.
He clearly regretted something, but honestly, I didn’t care about a useless mentor’s self-pity.
“So what?”
“That’s when Bati… saw something.”
Saw what?
Gaspar trailed off instead of finishing his sentence.
What’s with the suspense?
“Why can’t you just say it? If you can’t even say it, doesn’t that mean you’re at fault?”
“It’s not that!”
His response was loud and firm.
“It’s just… no matter how I say it, it’ll sound suspicious. I mean, you’ve been to a gambling den before, right? Adventurers all go at least once.”
“That’s a stereotype.”
“So, have you or not?”
I have.
He wasn’t wrong—most adventurers do visit one at least once.
That’s also why I didn’t take it too seriously when I first heard Gaspar was gambling.
When I silently confirmed it, Gaspar nodded as if satisfied and continued.
“You’d know, then. Being a skilled adventurer doesn’t mean you’re good at gambling. If someone’s insanely good, they’re usually a con artist.”
“That makes sense.”
Gambling isn’t just about skill—it’s also about luck, which is why it’s gambling in the first place.
“But do you know what gambling addicts hate even more than con artists?”
“…You’re talking about yourself here, right?”
“I told you, I’m not an addict!”
“Then quit gambling since your debt is paid off.”
“Now that I have no debt, can’t I just play for fun…?”
This bastard has zero self-awareness.
Even if he’s not a criminal mentor, just being a gambling-addicted mentor is already ruining the hero’s reputation!
Should I just leave him here and go?
My head told me to, but my chest ached too much to actually stand up.
I kept thinking about Vasco, pale and wounded, carried on Arthur’s back.
If I hadn’t stepped in, he would have died.
And if I didn’t step in now, countless others would die too.
I wasn’t just listening to the story of a hopeless gambling addict—I was listening to someone with the closest connection to the hero, the one who would save humanity.
“So, what was it?”
That’s why I couldn’t walk away.
How could the hero’s closest connection be this pathetic?
His life was so unfair, I almost felt like crying.
“A person who isn’t a con artist… but keeps winning.”
Gaspar finally said.
* * *
