Terry had half-expected some kind of fallout for dismissing that contract from that random lord. When nothing terrible had happened after a few days, though, he started to relax a smidge but only a smidge. That comment that Analina had made about the property being cursed had stuck with him. Not that he really believed in curses, as such, but he’d learned not to underestimate how petty Chinese Period Drama Hell could be when trying to screw him over. He wouldn’t put it past the place to simply manufacture some poltergeists or some awful Asian variant like a drowning ghost, avenging ghost, or one of the endless vampire variations that seemed to litter the Far East. Not that Terry knew those myths directly, but they did tend to crop up as narrative props in lots of cultivation novels, isekai novels, and even the occasional LitRPG series.

It didn’t help when he’d asked the others about ghosts and gotten a lot of vagaries in response. Jaban seemed convinced they didn’t exist. Haresh was agnostic about it. Ekori seemed convinced they did exist, but she couldn’t point to any actual evidence that they were real aside from anecdotal evidence. So, basically, it’s just like home, thought Terry. Even so, he couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed at the three for not having better answers for him. They were born on this terrible planet, so he expected them to know this kind of shit. It was ultimately Haresh who came up with a mollifying explanation.

“We’re adventurers. We hunt monsters. The guild wants proof. What proof would there be if you killed a ghost?”

“I guess I see your point,” admitted Terry.

He didn’t want to see it but that kind of logic was hard to argue with. No matter how awesome head sack was, he was pretty sure that it wouldn’t hold a ghost head. Although, I guess I won’t know until I try. Terry just wasn’t sure how effective his vague cultivator powers were going to be against disembodied spirits. They had done okay against the Douche Knight and most of the other church assholes, which suggested they were effective against truly supernatural forces, but that was pretty thin evidence. It wasn’t really the threat of ghosts that worried him, though. He just didn’t want to assume that it wasn’t spirits and get a nasty surprise later.

He suspected that whatever threat was lurking nearby was solidly in monster territory. In a world bursting with lethal, physical beasts, it just made more sense to view that as the most likely culprit. It didn’t completely undermine the possibility of ghosts or some other intangible threat, but there was a certain practicality in playing the odds. Plus, Terry had more than once gotten the distinct feeling that something was out there in the nearby forest eyeballing him and his house. He did find himself worrying that he was going to end up in the middle of some kind of defend the homestead trope, but he thought that was probably unavoidable if he didn’t plan to be a homeless vagabond forever. He also wasn’t sure there was a meaningful difference between defend the homestead and defend the campsite.

“Stupid tropes,” grumbled Terry. “Always making things harder than they need to be.”

Drumstick lifted its head from where it had been sprawled nearby and eyed him curiously. Terry eyed the chicken-lizard. I really should stop calling it and it.

“Hey, are you a boy chicken-lizard or a girl chicken-lizard? Or do you do the whole intersex thing?”

The beast cocked its head to one side, seeming lost in thought, and then squawk-warbled some things at him like a wounded yeti for most of thirty seconds. Terry was torn between annoyance that he had no idea what the beast was saying and the shocking certainty that the chicken-lizard had tried to answer his question. Terry swiftly realized the mistake he’d made. He’d asked a complicated question that required a complicated answer. He should have followed the KISS rule and kept it simple, stupid. He waited for several seconds to ensure that Drumstick was actually done before he tried again.

“Okay. Let’s pretend that I don’t speak chicken-lizard. So, when I ask you a question, let’s go with one squawk-warble for yes, and two squawk-warbles for no. Does that make sense?”

Drumstick gave off a single squawk-warble. Terry nodded.

“I’m going to assume that meant yes and wasn’t just you making a random noise at me. So, here we go. Are you a boy chicken-lizard?”

Two squawk warbles.

“Okay. So, not a boy. Does that mean you’re a girl chicken-lizard?”

One squawk warble.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Girl it is.”

That was immediately followed by another extended session of squawk-warbles that meant absolutely nothing to Terry. He sighed.

“So, not a girl?”

It seemed that Drumstick was as frustrated by the lack of communication as Terry. Maybe even a little more frustrated, judging by the way the giant beast stared at Terry for an uncomfortably long time before turning around and walking around the side of the house. He stared after the chicken-lizard in shock before shouting after Drumstick.

“How the hell am I supposed to interpret that?”

Screw it, he decided. She’s a girl chicken-lizard until I learn to speak chicken-lizard or she works out whatever the hell language it is that I speak these days.

“Were you just fighting with Drumstick?” asked Ekori, amusement clearly evident in her tone.

“No, I was not fighting with Drumstick. I was trying to figure out if she was a boy or a girl.”

“It sounds like you settled on girl.”

“I did,” agreed Terry. “I’m just not sure that she did.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I need to learn to speak chicken-lizard.”

“Chicken-lizard,” snorted Ekori. “She’s a cockatrice.”

“That’s what I said. Chicken-lizard.”

“Fine,” said Ekori with an airy wave of the hand. “Call her whatever you like. I take it you haven’t heard back from Analina.”

“Subtle,” said Terry.

“I do what I can,” said Ekori. “Is that a no?”

“That is a no, for which I am enormously grateful.”

“Because you don’t want to work for nobles?”

“That’s one reason. There are others.”

“But that’s the main reason,” she said.

It wasn’t a question. He studied her before he nodded. She rolled her eyes.

“You’re not going to work much if you refuse to work for nobles.”

“I never said I won’t work for nobles.”

“Didn’t you just say that?”

“No. I said I don’t want to work for nobles, but I’m not an idiot. I know by now that they’re the source for a lot of the work the guild does. So, yeah, I’ll work for them as long as they’re not putting out sketchy contracts and asking for me by name. If they’re putting out contracts like everyone else, it probably means that the job is real. It probably also means that they’re not trying to get someone to commit to something before they reveal all the details.”

“You’d never take a contract without believing you have all the details?”

“Oh, people are people. You’re always going to have someone who wants to get more work for less money. They’ll lie about the jobs. You can’t avoid that. However, I expect the guild takes a very dim view of people who pull that shit.”

Ekori nodded and said, “They do.”

“That being said, I’m not going to take a contract when it’s obvious someone is trying to hide something, has some other agenda, or both. That’d just be stupid and probably self-destructive.”

“Self-destructive?” asked Ekori. “I think I get what it means, but I’ve never heard anyone say it quite like that before.”

“Oh, we have clever phrases for just about everything in my old world. We love our labels. It helps put everyone in the right box.”

Ekori didn’t need to say anything for Terry to see that she didn’t understand that box reference at all.

“Think of it like this. If someone says that you’re an adventurer, that comes with a bunch of assumptions about the kind of person you are, right?”

“I suppose so.”

“Well, once someone thinks of you as an adventurer, you go into the adventurer box in their mind. It informs every thought they have about you after that. It might lead them to all kinds of wrong conclusions about you, but once you’re in the box, you tend to stay in the box.”

“Kind of like you and nobles?” she asked sweetly.

Well, hell. She has me there. I’m certainly guilty of profiling them. It’d be easier not to if they’d all stop acting like assholes, though.

“Is there where you give me a speech about how I just don’t understand the pressure they’re under? Are you going to try to convince me about how the nobility is actually filled with noble, righteous souls? Tell me that they’re not really a bunch of manipulative pricks who will happily use anyone they see as beneath them?”

Ekori winced a little at that. Looks like I have her there.

“No,” she said in a weary voice. “I’m not going to give you that speech. Most of them are exactly like that. Some are better and some are worse, depending on how you measure such things. But some, a few, really are noble and righteous.”

“Then, they have my sympathies and my condolences, because I can’t imagine that they’re long for this world.”

“Your sympathies and condolences but not your support?”

Terry glanced over at her. She was staring into some far distance, looking at something beyond the trees of the forest and maybe even the borders of the kingdom.

“Don’t forget that I was dragged into this world against my will. I have no allegiances here save the ones I choose to make. I also came south to avoid finding myself in a war. Even if I was sympathetic to a noble’s cause or some monarch’s cause, the only reason they would want me is for a war. With their enemies, with another nation, with someone,” said Terry. “People here may grow up expecting that they’ll do that kind of thing, but I didn’t. Where I come from, being a soldier is a profession people choose. I didn’t choose it in my old world. I won’t be forced into it here more than I already have been.”

Ekori looked startled at those comments.

“No one is conscripted in your world?” she asked.

“I didn’t say that. There are lots of nations that have conscription or mandatory service of some kind. Just not where I come from. My nation did away with it decades ago.”

“Why?”

Terry shrugged.

“Why does any law change? Politics. I won’t pretend that I know all the details though.”

Ekori shook her head and said, “Your nation sounds like a very strange place.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” laughed Terry.