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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: I Didn't Miss a Thing
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It's not that I didn't see it.
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Cock-a-doodle-doo! Cluck cluck!
The early dawn still carried a strong fishy smell and biting cold air. The rooster's raucous crowing jolted me awake out of habit, pulling me from bed.
"Just a dream, huh..."
It's been over fifteen years since I parted ways with her, so why was she invading my dreams now? The human brain is a mystery. That event was over a decade ago, my memories of it faded to haze, yet here it was again—vivid as ever.
The dream had felt like the start of some sweet romance, but reality hadn't played out that way. I'd looked after the kid, we'd started getting close, and then Ren left the manor.
It wasn't under bad circumstances, so I had no real complaints. If anything, it was worth celebrating. She'd caught the eye of a visiting count from a baron's family and gone off to his household. Word was, she had a talent for swordsmanship.
Still, the story didn't end well. Not long after Ren left, the baron's merchant family went bankrupt from failed ventures. The servants like me scattered to the winds. That's where my tale wrapped up.
After that, I changed my name from John to Kyle and scraped by as a hunter in a village near the city. Nothing major there—let's skip it.
Thud thud!
Lost in those old memories, I was interrupted by someone pounding on the door of my isolated cabin deep in the woods.
"Honey! Hon!
At this hour of the morning, it was my wife banging away. She wasn't some stunning beauty—just an average woman with brown hair and brown eyes. Generous at best, she'd rate a solid middle-of-the-pack. Marrying her had been the village chief's arrangement when I settled down here.
Probably a ploy to tie down the village's lone hunter, but back then, I went along with it. I wanted roots somewhere, and she'd fussed over me devotedly for those first few days. Then marriage flipped the switch on her true colors.
I opened the door, and she stormed in, huffing and puffing like she'd caught fire. She usually slept through midday claiming exhaustion—what wind was blowing her out this early?
"What's with the tantrum this early?"
My casual toss drew a scowl and a glare.
"You pretending not to know!? The caravan's coming today! And do you know what that bitch Rensy next door said? Her husband's buying her perfume from the city! Where the hell's a guy like him getting that kind of cash? Huh?"
Here we go again. We'd been married barely four years, and I heard this crap multiple times a day. As the village's only hunter, I brought in more coin than anyone—where the hell did it all go? That's what I wanted to ask.
'I'll handle the money! You just bring it home, honey!'
That's what she'd said right after the wedding. I wasn't a total fool, though. After the first few times, I started pocketing some. Handing it over felt like pouring water into a leaky jar—it vanished like mist. Who'd want to keep feeding that?
And perfume? The stuff nobles wear? How's Rensy's husband gifting that? She's probably bragging to fish for gifts, stirring up drama. As I stared at her in dismay, my wife snapped her eyes wide and bellowed.
"You just gonna stare!? Rensy's getting perfume, and if I don't get some too—what then?!"
"It's obviously bullshit. You buying that? Perfume's noble crap—how's he affording it?"
She clamped her mouth shut. My tone made it clear I knew the score, and she felt it—the absurdity of her own words. But her lips squirmed, refusing to admit it. Finally...
"You don't love me anymore!? Your hauls have been shit lately! You're stashing cash, aren't you? I thought it was for my gift... Waaah!"
Predictable as clockwork. This lunatic acts like all the money I've slaved over for her never existed. Every beast, even magic beasts—I sold hides, bones, blood, everything.
If she'd saved it properly, we could've lived cushy even in the city. Instead, the house overflowed with fancy furniture and bedding way above our peasant station. And that separate house she demanded because "I want to live in the village." Nothing like my ramshackle hut—pure excess.
Calling her a gold-digging sow wouldn't even cover it. This was my worst mistake after becoming a hunter and craving a settled life. Her vixen act back then had fooled me perfectly.
"Thought she was a good wife..."
Before marriage, she cooked well, kept house spotless—at least in front of me. She'd beam and serve meals when I dragged home from hunts. How does someone flip like that overnight?
As I muttered and stared, she glared back with axe-like eyes, fierce enough to kill. One look, and any lingering affection I had crumbled to dust.
Ah, to her, I wasn't a husband anymore—just a sucker bringing in the dough. Our short marriage, a few years at most, was never about love. Just mutual convenience aligning.
"You've changed, honey! At the wedding, you acted like you'd give me your heart and guts!"
You and your dad the village chief pushed the marriage to lock me down. Now she's spinning it like I chased her into it? Unbelievable.
"Fine! I'm out! Can't live with you!"
Affection gone cold, I didn't even try stopping her. Maybe I should ditch this wretched woman right now.
Creeeak—
Once she stormed out for good, I pried up a floorboard in the cabin's corner. Obvious if you looked close, but no one inspects a dim hunter's shack. Few visitors anyway.
"3 pounds, 7 crowns, 8 shillings..."
My pure savings from years as a hunter since settling here. She didn't know about it. Her sudden drop in spending money must've tipped her off I was holding back—hence the meltdown.
"Caravan's today, right."
I decided to head to the village for the first time in ages, hauling hides from my storage corner to sell. Meat went to villagers; properly tanned hides fetched top coin from caravans.
The early days were brutal. Roaming forests for a mentor, slamming my head against trees. But that choice? No regrets.
In this world where protein's scarce, three squares of meat plus hide profits built a high-protein diet that bulked me up. No fancy nutrition science, just basics from my old life. Now I'm bigger than I ever planned.
Rough measure: over 2 meters tall, north of 100kg. Skinny kid once, now a muscle hog. I aimed to grow, but not this much.
"Hup!"
With a grunt, I hoisted stacked hides—each bundle over 100kg—and slung them over both shoulders, trudging to the village.
Just sell and bounce. That's what I thought. Until I hit the village and spotted it: near the caravan, my so-called wife wrapped in an embrace with some escort soldier, making out like fiends.
"Come to the city with me, yeah? I make good money monthly."
"Nooo..."
"Want perfume? I'll buy it for you."
"That pricey stuff? How could you? Really, if I ditch that guy and go with you?"
More shocking: smack in the village center, and not one soul intervened. They ignored it or strolled past with casual greetings, like it was routine.
One locked eyes with me, freaked, and bolted to my wife. She heard whatever, eyes bulging, spotted me, then casually peeled off the soldier and sauntered over.
"You're here? Nice hide haul. My words get to you?"
The psycho flashed a grin, spouting nonsense. I ignored her, marched to the caravan, and dumped the hides.
"Well, if it isn't our magic beast hunter. Quite the load of hides."
The caravan leader's stoic face cracked with mild surprise at my haul. Peanuts compared to their bulk trades, but for a solo hunter? Insane volume.
"Honey! Now you're ignoring me!?"
As I brushed past, she—thinking I missed her stunt—boldly raged. I leaned to her ear and whispered coolly.
"Saw it all. You fucking bitch. Get lost while I'm quiet. Unless you want to die."
"Wh-what? What'd you say? You swearing at me?"
Does she have no shame? Or did my years of spineless bullshit convince her that's just who I am? I could've snapped her neck then, but... she was my wife once. Not worth killing.
She gawked at my icy stare in disbelief, then teared up and fled. Probably to tattle to her dad, the village chief.
I blew off the murmuring villagers and headed home with my hide profits. And the next day.