Chapter 426
Visiting a tailor.
In itself, this isn't wrong given how the conversation has gone so far.
A person's first impression is decided by their appearance.
Many people think that.
"Gurgle-kun, your first impression is already a negative. If you don't improve from there, the pool of girls you can potentially date shrinks significantly. You have to cherish each and every encounter, you see♪"
"Ugh!? But no matter what I wear, it doesn't suit me..."
"If you give up there, you don't deserve to date girls! You see, girls love something special. It's rare for them to dislike a guy who makes an effort, works hard, and becomes cooler for their sake."
"Except that's only if he's handsome, right?"
Even with the same appearance, it's natural for the impression to differ between meeting someone dressed sloppily and someone whose clothing maintains a clean, neat feel.
"There are people like that, but you should also remember there are people who aren't. In this world, there are women who can't trust handsome guys. Ah, this cloth is nice too."
Clothes in this world are basically custom-made. What a tailor has on display are just a few outfits on mannequins.
Everything else is just fabric.
Since earlier, Shalia, introduced by the shopkeeper, has been looking at fabrics with subdued tones.
Colors like black and dark brown—shades too austere for younger generations.
"I get that, but why have you been looking at those colors all this time? Wouldn't flashier ones..."
"Flashy ones don't suit you. If you wear flashy colors, you'll just look like a clown."
"You'll say it that bluntly?"
"If I think it's better to say it, I will. It's people flattering you at times like this that you've been deceived by."
Gurgle showed dissatisfaction with the color choices, but Shalia's serious gaze made him suppress his complaints.
For all his grumbling, she was seriously picking out clothes for him.
He felt her advice wasn't off the mark, which made him start thinking maybe he could trust her.
"Even so..."
"Also, thinking these colors are dull is a huge mistake. Worn properly, subdued colors turn into 'dignity.' And dignity makes you look composed to others."
"...? What do you mean?"
"This applies to both men and women, but if you were going to rely on someone, who would you choose—someone who seems composed or someone who doesn't?"
Without turning to face Gurgle, she busily sorted through the fabrics the shopkeeper showed her, separating them by quality. The shopkeeper, perhaps grasping the direction for Gurgle's outfits, started limiting the types of fabric they brought out.
"Well, the composed one, obviously."
"Exactly. No matter how handsome and well-dressed a guy is, if he doesn't seem composed, girls might find him unreliable and keep their distance, quite often."
"I-Is that so?"
"Yep. Whether you can be relied on in a pinch is really important."
None of the lined-up fabrics were flashy, nor were they youthful colors.
"Okay, that should do it."
"Huh, you're buying all of this?"
Finished sorting through the shop's fabrics, Gurgle broke into a cold sweat at the pile. Even with money, fabric is expensive. Despite wanting to be popular with women, he worried this might be too much.
"Of course not. From here, I'll select further so you can rotate them... let's see, I'd like to prepare about seven outfits."
"That's still quite a lot."
Relieved it wasn't everything, but having seven custom outfits made at once would definitely lighten Gurgle's wallet considerably.
"Ah, shopkeeper-san, do you have a sketchbook or something?"
However, the thought of not buying never crossed Gurgle's mind.
Somehow, he felt that following Shalia would change something within him.
He had that premonition.
"Okay, Gurgle-kun, stand over there."
"You can draw too?"
"Well, being an adventurer, I sometimes sketch terrains like mountains. Sketching monsters and mushrooms naturally makes you better at it. Drawing sloppy maps really does get you lost, you see."
"R-right."
Hearing they were making seven custom outfits, the shopkeeper, deeming them excellent customers, provided high-quality paper and pens. Shalia sat in the offered chair, set up the drawing board, stood Gurgle up, and began sketching with practiced hands.
When she explained she'd "acquired" these skills because they were necessary and looked at him with serious eyes saying, "Slacking off means death," Gurgle had no choice but to accept it.
"You're really good at everything, aren't you?"
However, the drawing wouldn't be finished immediately. Standing around was boring, so Gurgle, as a simple question, admired the breadth of Shalia's abilities he'd witnessed so far and let out those words.
"...I worked hard to be able to do them."
Hearing those words, Shalia suddenly thought of her employer.
He can do anything, knows everything.
Even that employer of hers had said, "There are plenty of things I can't do."
'Having things you can't do makes life fun. I think a life where you can do everything is boring. Being able to deeply engage with life—isn't that the greatest happiness?'
A meal at a food stall her employer had prepared himself, one day.
Shoulder to shoulder as men, with some alcohol in them, her employer had spoken those values with a wry, embarrassed smile.
Shalia was impressed by those words.
Too embarrassed to admit it openly at the time, they still remained deeply within her heart.
That's why she became conscious of enjoying the effort itself.
"Someone I respect says having many things you can't do is fun."
"What's that supposed to mean? Not being able to do things is unpleasant."
So, for some reason, she offered those words to Gurgle, her newly acquired, somewhat twisted acquaintance.
Continuing the sketch without stopping.
Her body, having grown to Class 7, completed the sketch precisely and rapidly. There was plenty of time for conversation.
Not being able to do something is a negative.
That's common sense in general society.
Everyone considers becoming able to do things as good, and Shalia agrees that's true.
Confirming Gurgle's exasperated expression, she further refined the image and brought it to form.
"True. But a life where you can only do things is truly boring."
"What do you mean?"
The sketch of the outfit Liberta said would suit him was so good even Shalia was impressed.
Among the multiple ideas she'd received, she drew this one first to convince Gurgle.
But even such a sketch, Liberta said, wasn't the final form.
"If, hypothetically, you could approach any beautiful woman and be guaranteed marriage, would you feel satisfied?"
"...Well, I'd be happy, obviously. I've never been given a second glance before."
"Right. You were never given a second glance by beauties. You had the experience of 'not being able to'."
That's why, after showing her this drawing, he added that one remark.
'If you think something's different with your sensibility, feel free to change it. Draw what you think is good.'
Those words from Liberta were enough to shatter Shalia's thinking, which had believed there was nothing more beyond this.
That's why she didn't just trace the drawing she was taught—she adjusted the details to suit the current Gurgle.
The direction wasn't wrong.
But she thought she could aim higher.
To give form to that sensibility, she made the pen move faster.
"What if you didn't have that fact of 'not being able to'—the fact that you were 'never given a second glance'?"
"Well... Ah, I see what you mean."
Shalia's words might have given a slightly strange impression.
Logically, one might think she was stating the obvious.
But whether people continuously recognize that fact—well, people tend to forget.
When Shalia explained that premise, Gurgle understood the intent of the question.
"Right. Humans are a slightly disappointing creature. Things that come easily lose value, no matter how wonderful. They're obtained with complete ease, available whenever you want. In that sense, I don't think what I said about 'not being able to do things is fun' is wrong."
She sensed the shopkeeper, who had been quietly observing the black-and-white drawing take shape from behind, widen their eyes in surprise.
"Well, I guess you could think of it that way. But having the fact of 'not being able to' continue is painful, you know?"
"True. That's a fact. Not being able to is frustrating, not being able to makes you dislike it. But, you know, after overcoming it, when you can do it... isn't it incredibly satisfying?"
"...It is satisfying."
If you take being able to do things for granted, the joy of a sense of accomplishment disappears.
But the true joy lies beyond understanding you can't, beyond embracing the anxiety of failure.
Just as Gurgle remembered that, the final stroke was finished.
"That's what I mean♪ Now, this is the future you."
Incredibly fast for a drawing. Gurgle peered at the sketch with eyes half anxious, half expectant, wondering what had been created.
"This is... me?"
"That's right♪"
His eyes widened.
There stood a man with a subdued, dignified presence.
But unmistakably Gurgle.
Facial features, hair, build.
Every single part was recognizably Gurgle.
The drawing didn't make him thinner.
It didn't make him taller.
Without any deception, it accurately captured every aspect of the man Gurgle. Yet why was the impression so different? Gurgle was astonished.
"So this is what 'composure' looks like."
"That's right♪"
What was different first was the expression.
Gone was the frivolous look, yet it wasn't an unapproachably stern face either.
Calm, with a rock-solid, settled quality—a mature, composed expression.
There, rendered in black and white, was Gurgle wearing a dark three-piece suit with peaked lapels, a tie at his collar.
A style unknown to inhabitants of this world, Gurgle depicted in an outfit reminiscent of an American or Italian mafia boss.
Gurgle stared at the drawing as if trying to bore a hole through it.
"That's cool! Damn!"
Here was a man who thought it was amazing even from a male perspective, rejoicing that the day had finally come when he could think of himself as cool for the first time in his life.
Seeing this version of himself in the drawing, he definitely started to think his current clothes were uncool.
He finally understood that the shopkeepers until now had been trying to flatter him.
He wanted to wear these clothes.
He felt that from the bottom of his heart.
"The color... this charcoal gray fabric, the grayish one leaning towards black. Also, a calm navy-type black would be good."
"All of it! I'll take all of it!"
"We also need to buy shoes and accessories that aren't too flashy, so make sure you save some money."
"Damn! This isn't enough! Hey! Go back to the inn and bring my secret savings!!"
There was a man, overjoyed with childlike innocence as if he'd seen a ray of hope in escaping from the state of "not being able to."
No holding back. As if to say, if not now, when? Gurgle sent one of his guards to fetch more money.