Ring Ring

Garrell and Crust, who think summoning magic has failed. They had no reason to know that Shiori was properly coming to this world just because of the uneven summoning position.

"Where, go?

Ask the back of a man walking in front in the dark. There is nothing but anxiety in Shiori's heart.

It's my shop.

Apparently the man's name is Roche, but that's all he told me. Even when I asked what store it was, they just said, "Follow me and I'll see."

(You don't think it's an absolutely healthy business...)

As expected by so vigilant Shiori, Roche slipped away from a luxury residential neighborhood that seemed secure. Upon exiting to the area where common houses and shops were built, he entered a maze-like alley, turned the corner of a rustled private house and passed beside a wildcat fishing for garbage.

Normally, I think if I were to open a store, I would choose a place that would be as visible as possible, but the Roche store seems different. His shop was in such a deep place that if he wasn't a local, he couldn't find it.

"Here."

A red brick, secluded two-story building. At first glance it also looks like a normal house, but above the entrance door there is a small sign indicating that this is the shop.

But Shiori couldn't read the letter. I can tell by these letters only by the numbers.

"The letter, what, it says?

pointing to the sign and asking,

"Pharmacist"

Roche answered as he unlocked the entrance.

"... medicine?

Shiori squeaks. This tattoo guy running a drugstore? Not those who write 'drugs' and read 'yak'? and so on and so on and so on.

When the little bell rang Karan and the door opened, Roche was followed by Shiori, who also stepped into fear.

The closest position to the entrance is the wooden counter. There are a number of small drawers lined up on the wall to the right, and on the shelf of the wall on the left, there are sloppy bins that would contain medicine.

The medicine was liquid, some powdered, and some had grains like some kind of nut. A bunch of grass flowers is also dried near the ceiling.

Behind the counter is a work bench and chair, next to which is a scuffle and pans. There are dirty buckets and tree leaves falling on the floor, with the impression of being a little scattered.

In the deepest part of the narrow store, we also saw the back door and the stairs leading upstairs.

(I'm really a pharmacist...)

Shiori looked at the massive pill bins arranged on the wall, as impressed. The pills here seem to be made mostly of plants.

"Me, work, do what?

When Shiori heard, Roche said "almost everything" out.

"From caring for medicinal herbs to making medicines to customer service.... you look so anxious, I'll have it done. It's okay, I have a lot to remember, but the job is simple."

Said the task was simple...... and Shiori shrugged in his heart. Can an amateur like this make a pill?

"Work starts tomorrow. It's too late."

As I say, Roche lights the tears. The store became brighter and the air started to twitch and warm. Watching every swinging flame is very reassuring for some reason.

At the same time, I'm getting sleepy.

"The problem is, you don't have your own bed because it was sudden. Looking for a used one tomorrow as well, today --"

Roche's words almost fell from right to left. My head is blurry, my thoughts are dull. It's been less than a day since I thought I'd tripped. Today's tiredness and hard work seemed to have struck me all at once.

My eyelids are heavier, my legs are less powerful...

"... Hey!?

Roche's rushed voice. Finally, the consciousness of poetry weave was interrupted.

"Mmm..."

The body of the poetry weave hit something in an attempt to hit a turnaround in a warm, comfortable futon. But if you avoid that and hit the other side of the bed, now you hit something wall-like.

(Why so narrow...)

I'm frustrated to think so. I can barely move, he said.

Shiori opened her eyes in an attempt to ascertain the obstacles that interfere with her movements,

…………

Consolidated.

It takes a lot of time to sort out my head as to how I'm in this situation.

This is certainly on the bed, but not the bed of the poetry weave apartment. In front of me was a tattooed man with dark brown hair, sleeping with his shoulders protruding. Clothes, not wearing...?

Whether it's a man's body odor or perfume, it also smells like musk and just like tobacco. It wasn't offensive, it was either a favorite smell of poetry weave.

"Yep..."

The man's name is Roche. Yeah, yeah, I remember it step by step.

But I don't see any reason to sleep in the bed with him naked, etc., while Shiori wakes up his upper body.

Good, Poncho was undressing, but his clothes were properly worn.

Shiori was feeling a little deja vu to this situation. When the crust was tripping, the first night we slept in a small bed together. Because there was no couch or spare futon to replace the bed in the narrow room of poetry weave.

Crust told me in gesture that it was enough on a rug laid on the floor, but I couldn't let him sleep on the floor in the middle of the winter more than I decided to hide.

I remember not sleeping well because it was when I still couldn't get through the words and didn't completely trust the crust thing, so the thrill was similar to my alertness for strangers and the thrill for nice heterosexuality.

Still, when I woke up in the morning, for some reason I was embraced and asleep, a memory that screamed unexpectedly.

"Hmm, it's morning..."

And Roche woke up, too, as Shiori put her thoughts through her past memories. I spill my yawn and wake up with my hair up looking asleep. Confirming that his lower body was wrapped in trousers, Poetry Weave secretly stroked his chest down.

"Uh, why are you doing this... oh, no. Why, together, to sleep?

Fix me for speaking Japanese while falling asleep.

"Because there's only one bed. I fell asleep all of a sudden yesterday, and instead of letting you sleep on the floor, I carried you here and put you in my bed, so thank you."

Roche getting out of bed snarls his neck. All I'm saying is, I slept in a small bed, so it was elaborate.

"Oh, thank you. Sorry."

Shiori also remembered last night. When I was looking at the flames, I felt sleepy.

"Here, Roche, room?

"Oh, it's upstairs in the store. Your room will be in the attic. It's small, but don't complain."

"I'm fine, I won't tell you"

Answer that and then look around the room again. Overall, the room is calm in colour and not clean or dirty.

The surprising thing is that there are many books. Maybe it's a book about medicine.

"We're going down. Wash your face."

After Roche in clothes, Shiori also stepped out of bed.

"I was there..."

Yesterday, fighting terrible muscle aches, which is the price I paid for walking around the city on my way to and from the castle and looking for work.

Outside the back door of the store, a small field was planted with medicinal herbs. Next to it is a cabin with a bathroom and toilet, and a well. They have to go outside once in order to go to the bathroom or bathroom, and that could be a bit of a hassle.

But the bathroom was cleaner than I thought. It looks like a toilet seat similar to a Japanese toilet is in place and the sewage facility is somewhat tidy. But what pleased me more than anything about Shiori was that there was a proper piece of paper in the corner of the bathroom. Unlike Japanese toilet paper, I have no complaints that it was square and stiff. I felt a little confident there that I would be able to do something in this world as well.

"There you go."

While Shiori was brushing her teeth with a brush she was unfamiliar with, Roche made me breakfast.

Kamado and the workbench were also used as kitchens and dining tables, and the two brought chairs there to eat. The contents are fruit and bread served full of baskets in egg dishes like scrambled eggs with beans.

The hungry poetry weave did not hesitate to cheek them up. Roche is surprisingly friendly, and unexpectedly good at cooking. Is the hand clever?

"No, you, where's the country? Born."

Roche, who finished his breakfast earlier, asked Poetry Weaving as he smoked - similar in shape to paper cigarettes common in Japan, but brown in color.

"... awesome, far"

Put your hands on the bread and think for a moment before returning it. I wasn't sure if I should tell the truth, but even if I were to say it, Shiori thought it would be better later. Ever since I figured out if Roche was a reliable person. And he said it would be better if he had enough language skills to properly explain the other world trips.

"I hope so. Anywhere you're from."

Roche exhaled smoke before continuing.

"In the meantime, we're going to go buy it out this morning. Your bed, your substitute clothes, whatever you need."

"Uh... but money..."

"I'll pay for it. It's an initial investment. Don't worry, I'll deduct it from your paycheck for work later."

No, I'm not at all relieved, but Shiori nodded while I thought. I appreciate you lending me the money. Although there is a purse, the contents are only about 2,000 yen, and besides, it is Japanese yen.

As Shiori placed the fork on the empty plate, Roche rose.

"Okay, let's go. Uh, no, I didn't hear your name."

"Shiori, it's"

"Siori. It's an unusual name. Let's go, Siori."

"Ma, wait...!

Siori stepped up from the rattle and chair and left the store after a nasty roche.