Pushing the cart against a snowy pavement was harder than Seojin thought, though it was still better than carrying them by hand.
He was now heading towards the small herbal farmland surrounding a small farmhouse tower they had passed earlier, alone.
As Iria had instructed, he needed to buy five bundles of the leaves and buds of camellia sinensis, back to her blunt tone and not a lovey-dovey one back in the village.
'Damn. Not only is she a beauty and a healer, but a great damn actor too. She just has it all, doesn't she…?'
For some reason, Iria helped the potato farmer pick up the potatoes that had rolled down the snowy pavement when he tripped.
He asked if he could help, but Iria refused. She said it would be faster for him to buy instead. By the time the old man was okay, they would just head straight home.
An old woman by the window of the farmhouse tower welcomed him.
"Eh… a young man, is it?" the old woman said. "Hmph. You look well-off enough with that tidy clothes and clean shoes. It's not the sort I usually see here. So boy, what business brings you to my little shop?"
"Camellia leaves and the buds. Five bundles, if you please."
"Hmph! Camellia, you say?" the old woman rubbed her chin, eyes narrowing. "Tell me boy, are you acquainted with a young lady named Iria?"
Seojin frowned.
"I fail to see the relevance… but yes."
"Hmph. Fool! Of course it's relevant! That girl's the only one who ever asks for Camellia sinensis. The rest of those elders in that tucked-away village wouldn't know quality even if it grew right under their asses."
She stopped abruptly, her gaze drifting to the shelves stacked with dried herbs, twisted roots, and bundles of leaves Seojin couldn't begin to name.
"Now then… Camellia… Camellia…" the old woman muttered, scanning the shelves. "Which one was Camellia again?
"Eh?!"
- – – 777 – – -
"What an odd old hag," Seojin muttered. "Is it truly wise for her to keep a shop open at her age?"
He was now back in his room, laying sprawled on the soft bed.
In the end, because the 'young lord' in question sure took his long sweet time in the herbal shop, Iria had to go there herself and immediately pointed to the Camellia.
She had also made sure to nag the old woman, telling her to add labels to her products.
Seojin smiled.
He no longer questioned the behavior of his personal attendant, Iria. She may seem to change her personality based on who she interacts with, but there is no doubt that she is an altruist.
In fact, she is probably the most honest and kind attendant if compared to the ones his older siblings in this world had. For instance, the one in the novel was a calm old man but actually goes berserk when infuriated.
However, the feeling of uneasiness still remained— about that potato farmer old man.
They walked with him on the way back home, and the knights even recognized him, guiding him towards the training camps of the knight about a kilometer behind the manor.
Iria had said the old man was just here to give his son the potatoes, but couldn't he just ask the knights guarding to do so?
Letting out a tired sigh, Seojin's eyes focused on the chandelier above.
"I've been putting this off since morning, but… yeah, this is real. My new reality. Looks like I can't just sleep it off and wake up back on Earth."
He rolled onto the bed, sticking his face on the mattress. If he couldn't return to Earth, then he would live here. And if he was to live here, he would need to make preparations.
This was not an easy decision for him, in fact, that thought stayed in mind all that time he was in the village.
"Seven Hart, eh…? I guess I better start getting used to it."
And so, he stood up.
In that single year where he was a shut-in, he was an epitome of laziness. He would do nothing but face the screen all day long, then eat and sleep. He hated everything that needed a considerable amount of effort.
To put it simply, he got bored of almost everything.
But now that he only has seven days left to live, doing nothing would bring nothing but a catastrophe. He would be assassinated after all.
Aside from the fact that he was still unsure if he'd go back to Earth as Seojin if he died here, there was one thing he didn't want to experience on the day of his assassination.
Pain.
He had always hated pain, anything that inflicts him with pain.
Step, step!
Walking towards the desk, he grabbed a quill in ink and a single paper parchment. Line by line, he scribbled down everything he could recall about the novel.
Scribble, scribble!
By the time the parchment was half-filled, blotched with hurried ink, he leaned back and exhaled.
He folded the parchment carefully, as if it were a map to survival, and tucked it below the mattress of his bed.
Looking down at his callus-free palms, his face twisted in frustration. With such a frail body, his options were painfully limited.
It wasn't as if he could rely on model looks to seduce the assassin.
'Status, skills.'
He thought the word carefully, not dumb enough to say it aloud like. There was no need to look like a lunatic talking to thin air.
Ding!
ᆫSkillsᄀ
[Self-Proclaimed Genius]
A system interface appeared almost instantly, though it displayed only a single skill.
'Description.'
He thought, but nothing appeared.
'Description. Description!'
He repeated again and again, but still nothing happened. He sighed, knowing what exactly the damn system wanted.
"Fine. Description, damn it."
Ding!
ᆫSkillsᄀ
[Self-Proclaimed Genius] Temporarily… kidding. Took you long enough, genius! But as a genius, shouldn't you already know what this skill is, you skibidi?