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The Gate Traveler (Slice of Life LitRPG)
Chapter 24: Sometimes Slow is Nice

Chapter 24: Sometimes Slow is Nice

I took out my bike and attached the trailer. Stretch eagerly hopped in, and we set off. I pedaled for six hours until we stopped for the night. The exertion made my legs quiver, and I felt thrilled to have the Heal Muscle spell. After a good night's sleep, we continued on our way.

Around lunchtime, we spotted a caravan in the distance, and I suspected it was the same one we had encountered earlier. In four days, they had covered a distance that took me less than a day and a half—they were moving at a snail's pace!

As we passed the caravan, a chorus of children's voices greeted us. They called Stretch 'Shrech' and asked me for candy. The parents, less amused, gave me the stink eye. Ah, sugar rush for the win!

When we reached the head of the procession, I slowed down and stopped by the caravan leader, who was riding a sturdy-looking horse. He glanced up from a map he was studying, his expression brightening when he saw me.

"John! Good to see you again," he greeted warmly.

"Hey there," I replied, feeling the day's journey in my legs as I shifted on my bike seat. "Just wanted to check if everyone here is doing well. Does anyone need my help?"

He straightened up, eyes scanning his caravan as if taking a quick inventory. "We're all fine, thank you. No issues so far," he assured me with a nod.

I nodded back, feeling a bit of relief. "That's good to hear. We're headed to the nearest town. How about you? Where are you headed?"

"Ah, we're also heading there. At our pace, we might reach it in four or five days."

I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that. "Really? I might arrive tomorrow late evening or the next day before lunch."

He chuckled, a deep, hearty sound. "Yes, we do move quite slowly, don't we? Traveling with children and all the wagons takes time."

I smiled and nodded, understanding the challenge. "Well, I'll see you in town then."

With that, I waved goodbye. He returned the gesture with a warm smile still on his face. Stretch and I continued on our way, leaving the caravan behind.

On the third day of our journey, we arrived at our destination. The caravan leader had called it a town, but to me, it looked more like a village—the main road cut through the town, with four or five shops on each side. Four streets branched from the main road, each lined with several houses. Cultivated fields stretched beyond the houses on both sides.

When I put my bike away, Stretch was very disappointed. I thought it was the whole "dog sticking its head out the car window" thing I knew from Earth. I asked the first person I met about an inn. Even though I cast my Clean spell and washed in streams and rivers here and there, I really wanted a nice hot bath.

Stepping into the inn, I felt like I had walked straight into a scene from a storybook. The long common room welcomed me with wooden tables and chairs, and a roaring fireplace at the far end cast a warm, flickering light. On the left side, a long bar lined with barrels stood, behind which an innkeeper with an enormous belly was diligently cleaning a metal cup with a towel. It looked so perfectly "fantasy land" that I couldn't help but smile.

The innkeeper noticed me and greeted, "Hello there, stranger." His eyes twinkled with curiosity as he set down the cup.

"Hello," I replied, stepping closer to the bar. "How much is a room, a meal, and a hot bath?"

"The room is three coppers a night, the meal two coppers, and a bath is two coppers if you want it in the room. If you don't mind the common washroom, it's one copper," he explained, leaning on the bar with a friendly grin.

"Do you mind if my dog stays with me in my room?" I asked, glancing down at Stretch, who was sniffing around the room curiously.

"No. It's your dog, so do whatever you want with it," he said, waving a hand dismissively.

"Great. I'll take three nights, three meals a day, and a hot bath every evening in my room," I decided, feeling the need for some comfort after days on the road.

"That will be three silvers and three coppers. Do you want me to feed your dog?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I have food for him," I replied, summoning one pouch with coppers. I counted out thirty-three coins and handed them over.

He examined the coins closely, a puzzled look crossing his face. "I never saw such coins. Where are you from?"

"From across the sea," I said, meeting his curious gaze.

"The islands in the south? I've heard of them but never met someone from there. It must be a rich place; your coins are bigger and look fancier with the picture and all. I should charge you less with this size," he chuckled.

"No problem, keep the change," I said with a smile.

"What change? What do you want me to change?" he asked, confusion knitting his brows.

"Nothing. Just a saying from my home. It means you don't need to give me coins back," I explained, waving a hand to dismiss his concern.

"You sure?" he asked, still looking a bit puzzled.

"Yes. Also, can you change copper to silver or gold?" I inquired.

"The same coins?" he asked, his interest piqued.

"Yes."

"I'll be happy to do that," he nodded, still examining the coins.

"How much gold and silver do you have?"

He gave me a strange look, his expression growing wary. Realizing how my words might sound, I quickly added, "Don't worry, I'm not trying to rob you. I'm a healer—I heal, not harm. I just have a lot of copper." Taking out ten pouches of copper from my storage, I showed him the contents. "I'll even give you the pouches as a gift to apologize for alarming you."

His face relaxed into a smile, and he nodded. "Alright."

He counted all the copper, his fingers moving swiftly as he tallied the coins. After a few moments, he nodded, satisfied, and handed me four gold and ten silver coins.

"Here you go," he said, passing the coins over with a friendly smile.

"Thanks," I replied, pocketing the coins. "Can I get my key now? I want my bath right away."

"Of course," he said, reaching under the counter and producing a small brass key. He handed it to me, adding, "Your room is up the stairs, third door on the left."

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I thanked him again and headed upstairs to my room. Once inside, I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me. It occurred to me I had made an inappropriate comment by asking about his money earlier. I didn't need more money; I had plenty of gold from the mage. The thought of exchanging the coppers had sparked my curiosity.

An hour later, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find the innkeeper standing there, a big wooden tub in his arms. He must have seen my surprised expression, because he chuckled.

"Expecting metal, were you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I didn't realize tubs could be made from wood," I admitted, stepping aside to let him in.

"Live and learn," he said with a grin as he set the tub in the middle of the room. His wife appeared behind him, carrying two steaming buckets of hot water.

"We'll be back with more," she said with a warm smile, her cheeks flushed from the heat. They left quickly, promising to return soon with additional buckets to fill the tub.

After my tub was full, I slipped in and relaxed until the water was almost cold. Stretch tried to drink the bath water, so I gave him water and lunch. He looked at the raw meat unimpressed and then looked at me. I could almost see the question marks in his eyes.

"Listen, buddy, right now, when we are staying in town, I don't want them to see me feeding you mana-rich meat. I don't know how they'll react, so I can't cook it for you in the inn. Eat raw today, and tomorrow we will go into the forest, make a fire, and I'll cook you burgers for a week. What do you say?"

He looked at me for a second or two and started eating. It was an oversight on my part; I always cooked for both of us, but it slipped my mind that I wouldn't be cooking in town. After my bath, I went down to the common room, had lunch—a type of stew with root vegetables—and asked about a butcher, tanner, or hunter. This town didn't have a tanner or hunter, but had a butcher.

I found the butcher, a burly man with a grizzled beard, busy at work in his shop. The rich smell of meat filled the air as I approached him.

"Hello there," I called out, trying to catch his attention over the rhythmic thud of his cleaver.

He glanced up, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What can I do for you?" he asked, his voice gruff but not unfriendly.

"I'm John. I'm looking to learn how to butcher a carcass," I said, meeting his gaze.

He wiped his hands on his apron, shaking his head. "I don't have time to teach you. Got enough work as it is," he replied, his tone firm.

I took out a bowl full of mana-rich goat meat, holding it out for him to see. His eyes widened slightly, and he leaned in for a closer look.

"What's that?" he asked, curiosity piqued.

"Mana-rich goat meat. I can give you six Saks of this in exchange for teaching me," I offered, observing his reaction.

He stroked his beard, considering the offer. "Six Saks, huh?" He looked me up and down, then back at the meat. "Alright, you've got yourself a deal. Three days, during my routine work."

A smile spread across my face. "Deal. When do we start?"

He pointed to a nearby carcass. "Now. Grab an apron, and let's get to it."

I quickly donned an apron and joined him at the table, ready to learn. "What is your name?"

"Hetton, but everybody calls me Hett."

"Nice to meet you, Hett, I'm John."

"You told me that already."

Right! I rubbed my neck in embarrassment, and he laughed.

Hett's initial reluctance melted away as he started explaining the process, and we dove into the work right then and there.

The following day, early in the morning, I took out my bike and rode to the forest. We went inside for a few meters, found a pleasant spot, and I made a fire. I cooked Stretch breakfast, which he inhaled, and then cooked the rest of the bison and goat meat. He was all set—I had over fifty big burgers. I cleaned the coolers, and we returned to town for my second day as an apprentice butcher.

For the next two days, I learned how to butcher. It turns out it's more involved than I thought.

On my third day in town, the caravan finally reached the town. During the day, Stretch disappeared instead of dozing just outside the door. When I went looking for him, I found him soaking up the kids' pets and admiration. I went to say hello to Sami, and she invited me for dinner.

"And this time, you are not going near the fire," she said as I accepted the invitation.

The caravan leader approached me; concern etched on his face as he motioned for me to join him away from the bustle of the campfire. I followed, curious yet cautious, wondering what could trouble him.

"John," he began, his voice low and urgent, "one of our guards got injured. Would you be willing to help him?"

"Of course," I replied without hesitation.

Relief washed over his features, though he still looked worried. He gestured towards where the injured guard was resting, his eyes silently pleading for my help.

I followed him to the guard's side, where the injured man lay grimacing in pain. The guard winced as I examined his legs, which were covered in bite marks, some of them looking quite infected. I furrowed my brow, concentrating as I prepared to cast Healing Touch.

"Hold still. This might tingle a bit," I said, placing my hands over the worst wounds. He nodded, gritting his teeth in anticipation.

I cast Healing Touch, feeling the familiar warmth flow from my hands into his wounds. His muscles relaxed slightly, but the infection was stubborn. "I'll need to cast it a few more times," I informed him, moving my hands to the next cluster of bites.

He grunted in response, pain etched on his face. I cast Healing Touch again, followed by Fortify Life Force to boost his recovery. After the fifth cast, the wounds finally closed, and the redness of the infection faded.

"There, that should do it," I said, wiping the sweat from my forehead. "Those bites were nasty. What happened?"

He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I was digging a garbage hole," he explained, his voice tinged with frustration. "Didn't see the nest of jurbers until it was too late."

"Jurbers?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Those green, small creatures, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah, vicious little things with sharp teeth. They got me good."

An idea struck me, and I leaned in closer. "Can you tell me exactly where the nest is?"

His eyes widened, and he shook his head vigorously. "I wouldn't go near them if I were you. They might be small, but they're ferocious."

"I appreciate the warning," I said, nodding. "But I think I can handle them. Just point me in the right direction."

Reluctantly, he gave me the location, his face still lined with concern. "Be careful, John. They're more dangerous than they look."

"Thanks, I'll be cautious," I assured him, mentally noting the spot. I remembered the jurber I encountered—green, small, and easy to kill. In the Archive, I discovered you get a kill notification only for monsters, not animals or beasts. As I walked away, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and determination. This could be an excellent opportunity to progress my loot spell.

I joined Sami for dinner, letting her take the lead as she cooked over the campfire. The flames flickered and danced, casting a warm glow on her face as she worked. I watched her deft movements, how she handled the ingredients with practiced ease, and how her hands moved skillfully despite the rustic setting.

She served us a type of kebab called poonk, a local specialty. The aroma was mouthwatering, and I couldn't help but smile. "This smells amazing," I said, settling down on a log near the fire.

Sami beamed at the compliment. "I'm glad you think so. It's one of my favorites," she replied, sitting across from me, the firelight reflecting in her eyes.

We started eating, and the conversation flowed naturally. "So, what's the deal with the caravan?" I asked between bites. "It's massive."

Sami nodded, wiping her mouth with a cloth napkin. "About sixty percent of the people are traveling merchants," she explained. "They move between the kingdoms of Mara and Somer. The crown symbols on the wagons mark the capitals."

I leaned back, digesting both the food and the information. "And the rest?" I prompted.

"People traveling for various reasons," she continued. "Some don't want to travel alone. Others are looking for work along the caravan's route."

As we talked, I learned more about Sami. She was on her way home to her husband and kids after visiting her parents, who lived two towns away from where I met the caravan. "How did you end up with a broken leg?" I asked, curious.

She laughed softly, though there was a hint of embarrassment in her posture. "I fell off the hayloft while helping my father clean the barn," she admitted. "Not my finest moment."

We both laughed, the mood light and comfortable. Eventually, the conversation turned more personal. Sami spoke fondly of her husband and children, her eyes lighting up as she described them.

I felt a pang of sadness, but I shared my story. "I had a wife once," I began, my voice softening. "Her death hit me hard."

Sami looked surprised. "You don't look older than twenty," she said, her brows knitting in confusion.

"I'm twenty-five," I clarified with a small smile. "I married very young."

The evening passed quickly, and as I bid Sami goodnight, I felt connected. "Goodnight, Sami," I said, standing up from the log.

"Goodnight, John," she replied warmly.

I found the caravan leader and told him goodnight, eyes scanning the camp. The mage approached me again, her expression hopeful. "Still not selling the unique boxes?" she asked, a hint of desperation in her voice.

I shook my head with a chuckle. "Nope, not today," I said, patting her shoulder reassuringly before heading back to the inn.

As I returned to my room, I reflected on the past three days. They had been good, filled with new experiences and connections, and I felt a sense of contentment as I prepared for bed.