Tensura: Discovering the eastern part

Alan's POV:

After the exchange between the boy and the guards, which was strange by all accounts, we were allowed into the town.

It looked like a large shopping centre and was surprisingly lively despite the early hour. Shops and carts were everywhere, and people were haggling over prices, from basic goods like vegetables and herbs to metal equipment and what looked like vials of neon-bright potions that shimmered like liquid jewels. There were plenty of them, and the main road was completely crowded with pedestrians and shoppers, some of whom looked like ordinary people, others like adventurers in a fairy tale. While a world so full of magic has its drawbacks, I'll enjoy exploring it.

I glanced down at my 'companion', and found him clutching his head like someone had bashed it with a steel pipe. Perhaps he'd injured his head? I patted his shoulder, trying to figure out what was wrong. He looked up at me and shot me that familiar 'What a nuisance...' glare, then lowered his head again.

Oh, I'm sorry I cared! Unfortunately, I can't leave him, at least not yet. There are still things I need to do.

"Oi", I extended my hand in a plea for help, which he accepted. I think our first step will be... finding a doctor, or whatever the equivalent is in this world. Although the pain in my leg has eased a little, it still needs proper care, as do the boy's hands. I wonder if he has any money.

I tried pointing at 'money', but he didn't seem to pick anything up, which was annoying. I stepped forward and checked for pockets in his pants. He was surprised by my actions but remained motionless.

He doesn't have any pockets...

"@%&#^!" I heard a shout from behind me. A cart was pulled by a man in his thirties. Only then did I remember that we had parked the cart in the middle of the road. The boy responded and pulled the cart to the side, offering what looked like an apology to the man.

Standing on the side of the road now, I watched the traffic with a bored expression, racking my brain for ideas. Finally, I decided there was only one solution.

I nudged the boy with my elbow to get his attention and raised my shoulder to ask him what we were doing. Fortunately, he seemed to understand this time.

He scratched his head for a while, then gestured for me to stay here and went somewhere. I heard our horse whinny behind me. He must be tired after the long journey, but I had nothing to offer.

I removed the saddle and let him rest on the ground. I sat down next to him, stroking his head.

I hope he comes back soon...

Elrik's POV:

'What should we do?' You asked? Do I look like a responsible person?

*Grrrr*

I don't even have any money...

I stopped in front of a small restaurant that looked nicely kept and approached the counter, a well-dressed man.

"Welcome to our restaurant, you can take a seat while we prepare your order," he said without lifting his eyes from the coins he was counting happily.

"Thanks. My question might sound strange, but... where am I?"

Upon hearing that, he looked up at me with a raised eyebrow. I noticed him inspecting my face and appearance with suspicion.

"Sorry, but we don't serve free meals," he said, returning his focus to the money. Does he think I'm a beggar? Okay, I do look like one... but that's only been for a day!

"I didn't ask for free food. Well, honestly, I was going to, but never mind if you won't give me any. Can you tell me what town this is? I'll leave right after getting an answer!"

Judging by how I look, no one might want to talk to me or even answer me, so I didn't want to waste my chance.

He paused from counting his money for a moment. I heard a soft sigh escape him.

"This is the town of Zarethun. A few days' travel north of Zharokh. Now move along." Though his tone was grim and annoyed, I was glad to have the information.

I left the restaurant and resumed walking on the street.

Zarethun... It was my first time here, but I'd heard a lot about it. Most traders and nearby village folk came here either to buy rare southern goods or as a stop on their way south to the main cities.

The journey from Branlow to here usually takes half a day on the safe known road. We must've taken a shortcut.

Amazingly, we're even still alive...I need to find someone to guide me back...

But do I even want to go back?

I've always wanted to explore the Empire, to travel through towns and cities, or even venture into foreign lands... but it always seemed out of reach.

No money, and the captain always rejected the idea; he was the one in charge of me, along with the doctor... and I ended up being sold off for money.

I shook my head, trying to scatter those thoughts. I will make sure to confront him one day. But for now, I need to get money, somehow.

From afar, I noticed a large crowd gathered, watching something. I approached and tried to squeeze through to the front to see what was happening.

"That's the fifth time already!"

"How does he keep doing it?"

"What kind of magic is this?"

"That's incredible"

I heard different whispers and comments in the crowd, which only made me more and more curious, until I finally reached the front.

In front of me sat a short boy on a red cloth mat. Before him were several cards with strange symbols and designs. He wore a long black woollen robe with a hood that covered his face and features; only his wide grin could be seen.

A tall, muscular man stood in front of him and threw the cards down in frustration, his face full of anger and resentment.

"You filthy cheat. I will get back at you," he said as he passed by me, then stormed off, hurling curses as he went.

"Ah, what a shame. We've lost another player," the boy said with theatrical sorrow. "Well, whatever, who's next? You can play with just one 'Vin'! Just one! And this time, the winner will get... one hundred 'Drinn'! Yes, you heard me right! Bet one 'Vin', and win a hundred 'Drinn'!"

He pulled a pouch full of bronze coins from under his robe and raised it high for everyone to see, which made the crowd roar with excitement.

"He keeps doubling the prize!"

"He's insane!"

"He can't be lucky every time; his luck must have run out! I'm winning this for sure!"

He was betting a hundred Drinn for just one Vin?! That's crazy! One Drinn is worth five Vins! So a hundred Drinn is... 100 + 5?...a LOT of Vins!

If only I had a single Vin...

People pushed forward to join. I could barely stand with everyone pressing behind me, I needed to get ou—

"You seem interested in playing. Wanna try it out? It's just one Vin, hehee~" The mad magician in front of me said, his voice sly and teasing. I turned to see who he was talking to, but it was directed at me.

"I don't have any money. I need to go, now excuse m—"

The magician: "No worries, you can try your first game for free."

Free? He can't be serious...

"Free free?"

The magician: "Absolutely! On the condition that you come back to play again once you've got enough money. Deal?"

It doesn't sound so bad... It's just one Vin, after all.

"Alright, I'll play. What's the game by the way?" I asked as I sat across from him on the red cloth.

"Simple and fun! A standard deck of 52 playing cards. Five rounds, each round split into three mini-battles called 'flips', for a total of fifteen flips.

At the start of each round, we each get five cards. Each player picks one card from their hand, face down. We count to three, then flip them over.

The higher card wins the flip. The first to win two out of three flips wins the round. First to win three rounds is the overall winner." He paused to gauge my reaction, then continued

"If a flip ends in a tie, we each draw three cards and redo it. If one of us wins two flips in a row, the other has to take a random card from their hand in the next round, and if the same happens in the next round, the other will take two cards, and it goes on. The suits don't matter; only the card value counts. All clear?" He ended his long explanation with a question I wasn't sure I should answer with no. What even is a 'standard deck of 52 playing cards'?

His grin sharpened, a fox eyeing prey, before he raised his hands to calm me.

The magician: "No need to stress out like that, you'll get the hang of it as we play. You're not risking any money, remember?"

"Yeah... I think you're right."

"Let's begin then! You can shuffle and deal the cards if you're afraid I'll cheat. And I promise not to use magic." He held out the deck with the same playful, sarcastic tone. I took the cards hesitantly and began shuffling. I could hear whispers behind me, some encouraging, others doubtful.

I dealt five cards to each of us and placed the rest in a draw pile.

"Each of us puts one card face down," he said. "Then we flip them on the count of three. The higher card wins the flip."

...This is too much to process...

I studied the cards in my hand and focused on the numbers on the corners. They ranged from 2 to... letters?

"What do these letters mean?"

"As for that," he gathered his cards in his left hand, then placed his finger on the ground, tracing the same letters with it. "This 'J' is worth 11, this 'Q' is 12, as for this 'K', it's 13, and finally, this 'A' equals 14. The values range from two to fourteen, with thirteen total ranks."

I compared the letters he drew to the ones on the cards in my hand.

I had two cards with the value five, one with a two, one with a seven, and one marked with a 'Q', which, based on his explanation, meant 12. From what I understood of the game, I had to choose a card to play, and if I was lucky enough, and my card's value was higher than his, I'd win the flip. And vice versa.

So the game relied entirely on luck.

He looked incredibly confident. Is he really that lucky? I looked back at my cards. Choosing the highest one seemed logical. I picked the 'Q' card and placed it face down on the ground, directly across from the magician's card.

Magician: "One, two, flip!"

I glanced at his card and saw it was a '3'.

"I won!" I shouted happily. I hadn't made any real effort, yet I won easily. Maybe I am lucky?

"Haha, calm down and don't get too excited. That's just the first flip. Save your joy for when you win the game, though I doubt that's going to happen," he said, still wearing that same mocking tone.

"We'll see!"

I turned my attention back to the cards. This time, I picked one with a value of seven, then placed it face down.

The magician: "One, two, flip!"

His card was a six! Close call!

The magician: "Congrats! You've won the first round. Looks like our guest today is lucky. If you keep this up, you may even win the prize."

A hundred Drinns. That number echoed in my head over and over. It would be enough to cover food and shelter for a whole week. I never thought I'd win a single round, but the game seems easier than I thought. At this rate, I'm going to win!

Excitement welled up inside me, and a small smile formed on my face.

"Let's keep playing."

— • — Meanwhile — • —

Third Person POV:

'Hmm, this tasted better than it looked. I wish it had some cheese, tho.' Alan thought while finishing the last piece of bread he bought

Ever since he sat here, people have been tossing coins at him. They think he is a beggar.

Alan: 'Do I look like some kind of wishing fountain? Insulting, but I'll tolerate it.'

The coins he collected were all made of tin, twenty-three Vin in total.

Given the poor quality of the material and how freely people were giving them away, he figured they weren't worth much. He had previously headed to a nearby bakery and bought a loaf of bread.

Alan: 'The vendor didn't even react when I handed him a coin, which means these tin coins are probably worth ten or twenty cents '

After what felt like an hour of waiting for Elrik, he decided to go look for him. He mounted the horse, which seemed more lively after sharing some bread, and led it down the street.

Unfortunately, he didn't stand out too much. Carts full of goods and others empty had been passing by all morning. It took him a lot of willpower not to stop and eat at one of the many restaurants around.

Alan: 'I'll finally get a proper breakfast once I find him. Hm? What's this crowd gathering for?'

He got a little closer, and thanks to being on horseback, he could see what was happening up front without having to push through.

'Wait, isn't that our companion there?' he thought as he spotted Elrik deep in a game with the magician. 'And here I thought he'd gone to find something useful for us...' His blood ran cold. That wasn't just a deck. 'Standard 52 cards. Suits. J, Q, K, A... No mistake. Did someone bring those cards from Earth? Or... is he from my world too? One thing's for sure, I'm not the only 'traveller' here.'

He watched the two of them as they placed cards down, flipped them, and then the magician swept up the winning cards and set them aside.

Alan: 'Doesn't look like poker. What are they playing?'

They played two flips, and both times the magician won and took the cards. After that, Elrik slowly got up from the ground and walked away from the crowd with his head down.

The game was over.

Shoulders slumped, he moved like an old man carrying stones. His steps dragged, and his arms hung limp at his sides. He passed right by Alan without even noticing him being there.

"You alright? You look like hell." Even though he found his appearance kind of funny, like someone who pulled an all-nighter and bombed the exam, he asked him to pay attention

He turned his face toward Alan. He didn't look surprised, nor happy. He slumped into the cart like a sack of defeated dreams.

Alan: 'Did he lose a bet or something? Not that he had any money to begin with...'

Alan thought that paying attention to the matter wouldn't lead to anything. It was better to look for a place to have breakfast, just as he had planned.

He had no idea about the prices, so he figured he'd look for the cheapest restaurant around, which he believed would be easy enough by judging the exterior design and the number of customers.

After a few minutes, they arrived at what looked like an old tavern. It had no door, and it was easy to see the empty tables inside, save for a few passed-out drunks.

Alan nudged the horse towards the tavern's peeling stucco wall and dismounted, walking over to Elrik, who nursed his sorrow over the lost prize like a fresh bruise.

Elrik: 'Just one more move... No... I was this close to winning...' he thought, narrowing the distance between his thumb and index finger. In his mind, the hundred Drinn weren't just coins—they were redemption, dignity, a path back home. And now they were gone. He couldn't move on from the score collapse from a 2-0 to 2-3. He jolted when he noticed the cart slowing to a stop.

"Cheer up. It's breakfast time," Alan said, speaking to Elrik, who was lying on the wooden floor.

Needless to say, Elrik didn't understand a single word. Alan knew it, so he opted for a simpler and more effective form of communication.

"While you were off fooling around, I was seriously working to collect money," he said, emptying his pockets of coins.

The sight of that made Elrik's eyes light up, and his corpse-like lethargy vanished instantly. Without waiting, he lunged for the coins like a starving raccoon, only to fall flat on his face as Alan stepped to the right, dodging him.

Elrik: 'He had the money this whole time!?'

"I need you to ask about prices and food inside," Alan explained, handing him the coins while gesturing toward the tavern.

Elrik shot up, snatched the coins, and bolted inside, a huge grin spreading across his face.

Elrik: 'One Vin, five Vins... fifteen Vins! We're in luck! Speaking of luck...'

He slipped three Vins into his pocket after making sure Alan wasn't watching. 'Just three Vins won't hurt, we've got more than enough for food, water, and some will remain.'

He then approached the old bartender near the entrance.

"What's on the menu? Actually, first: Do you have water?" His throat felt dry even before he finished the question.

The bartender bent down and placed a medium-sized barrel and a wooden cup.

"There's vegetable soup with bread for one Drinn, and also broth with bread for the same price. Grape juice costs three Vins," he said while filling the cup with water. "Water's free."

"You're a lifesaver!" Elrik grabbed the cup and drank eagerly. Meanwhile, Alan had taken a seat at one of the nearby tables, next to a wall covered in wanted posters. He busied himself by deciphering the numbers and words written on them.

"Alright, I'll take the bread and broth and... give my friend over there the same thing." Elrik didn't know what Alan would want, and he didn't want to get caught up in a pointless guessing game, so he just picked something at random.

"Have a seat while I prepare it. Julian! Come here; we've got clients," said the bartender as he turned to fetch his only staff member.

Elrik sat down near Alan and rested his chin on his clasped hands in thought.

Elrik: 'One Vin to play, I took two more just in case I lose again. No matter how lucky he is, he'll lose eventually, right? But how did he do it? I was a single flip from winning, and he just kept winning until the very end.'

The magician: "You'll find me here at the same time when you're ready to play again."

'Could he have cheated? No, it's impossible to cheat in front of all those people. And he didn't seem to use any magic. Pure luck then?' The thought shattered as the smell of broth drifted in, warm and tempting, accompanied by light footsteps, pulling Alan's attention away from the wanted posters.

'Finally!' both thought joyfully.

Standing in front of them was Julian, a young man around nineteen years old, about 179 cm tall, with pale skin and light golden blond hair. His eyes were a greyish hue tending to blue. He balanced two trays and slid one before each of them.

"Here's your order: two plates of stew and flatbread. Bon appétit," he said before heading back outside.

Elrik wasted no time. He immediately began tearing the bread and soaking it in the broth with ravenous hunger. Tears nearly welled in his eyes, a silent thank you to whoever the genius was who invented broth. He didn't notice Alan getting up and quietly leaving the tavern.

'Bon appétit... Huh.' The phrase echoed in his mind. Not just because he understood it, but because the mouth that spoke it didn't match the words.

Alan: 'This world's vibe is so misleading, it's easy to forget we're in a magical world. Of course, there'd be some kind of language magic. Also, his lips were out of sync with his words. Most people wouldn't notice due to how fast he spoke, but with a little focus, it becomes obvious.'

He narrowed his eyes at Julian's retreating figure. Blond hair. Pale skin. Cold eyes. Accented voice. And those lips... They weren't moving right. It wasn't the town's native language he was speaking, not underneath the translation magic. Alan had seen enough dubbed anime to know misaligned lip sync when he saw it.

'Let's test this.'

He slid off his seat and followed Julian around the tavern, slipping quietly into the back alley.

Julian sat on a wooden stool, washing dishes in a barrel of soapy water. His sleeves were rolled up, and his hands worked fast and practised. Alan stood just outside his line of sight.

Alan: 'Let's start with something simple, nothing threatening. If he flinches, I'll know I'm right.'

He took a breath and said, in soft but clear Russian: "Привет. Извините, можно вас на минутку?"

("Hi. Excuse me, can I have a moment?")

Julian froze mid-scrub.

He turned slowly, carefully. His sharp grey-blue eyes scanned Alan's face as though trying to decide whether to run or stab. He offered a tight, polite smile—but his hand crept subtly behind his back.

"Sorry, man. I didn't catch that," Julian said in the same language Alan had just tested, with a native speaker's cadence.

Alan: "But I do understand, plus, you understood me just fine. Russian, huh? The accent. The eyes. That reaction. Not to mention the knife you're reaching for"

Julian's expression changed immediately. The smile dropped. His fingers wrapped around the knife.

"I don't know who you are, or what you want," he said coldly. "But if you take one more step, I'll gut you where you stand. I'm not going back. I don't care who sent you."

'Military agents again? No, they would have ambushed me. That means he must be...' he thought, his expression darkening once more. He was never one for fights or violence, but it seemed blood would have to be spilt again.

Alan raised both hands slowly. "Whoa—relax. I'm not one of them. Whatever 'them' is. You think I'd approach you out in the open like this if I were hunting you?"

Still, the tension didn't fade.

"I just want to talk," Alan continued. "We're both not from around here. I noticed the misaligned lips, some kind of translation magic, right? Clever stuff, but it's not perfect."

Julian hesitated.

Then came a quiet voice behind Alan: "Unfortunately, I find that hard to believe."

'The cold metal at my neck was one thing, but watching Julian melt into mist like smoke? That was something else.' His blood ran colder than the blade as he thought

Julian's form didn't move; he dissolved. Smoke-like wisps faded from where he had stood. An illusion, and the real voice came from behind.

'Second time I've been ambushed from behind... This is getting annoying. What kind of cheat code is this? Illusion magic? Aren't you supposed to chant a spell or draw a circle or something first? None of my senses even picked it up.' Though his thoughts remained calm and focused, his expression betrayed a mix of frustration, surprise, and irritation.

"W-Well? May I know why there's a knife at my throat? I don't remember threatening you or doing anything to harm you." Alan's tone was a mix of surprise and a tinge of fear.

Julian: "Not yet."

'He's extremely cautious. From what he's said so far, it's clear someone's attacked or chased him before. He's trying to take control of the situation. If I show any weakness, he might calm down a bit...' The situation wasn't likeable at all, but he had no real say in it.

"Look, I'm willing to do anything to convince you I mean no harm, so there's no need to threaten me like this," Alan said, lifting his head slightly to avoid cutting his neck on the blade.

Julian: "Hmm. You don't seem dangerous."

Alan: 'Yes, yes! Keep going...'

Julian: "And I'd prefer it if you were telling the truth."

Alan: 'So then...'

"We'll go to—Agh!" Julian's words were suddenly cut off by the sound of shattering glass. Alan, seeing the knife mere millimetres from his throat, quickly grabbed it and lunged forward a step, away from Julian in surprise.

Spinning around, he found Elrik standing behind Julian, holding a broken plate over him. Julian was now on the ground, clutching his head in pain.

Elrik had noticed Alan's absence shortly after he left, stood up—plate in hand—and continued eating eagerly as he looked for him.

When he found them in the alley, he'd quickly licked the sauce clean before smashing it over Julian's head, saying it was payback for everything Alan had done for him so far.

"You!!" Julian growled, eyes blazing with fury. He tried to get up and attack, but was slammed back down by Alan's foot, now firmly planted on his chest.

"This isn't how I wanted things to go, but I need you to listen to me. Don't worry, I meant what I said: I don't intend to hurt you. As long as you do the same, of course," Alan said, holding the knife to Julian's throat, pinning him to the ground.

Alan: 'Ho~h, our man has a really good timing, I might even forgive his three coins pocketing'

Scanning his surroundings, his hands searching for an escape or a usable object, Julian could only sigh deeply in reluctant acceptance.

Julian: "Fine."