Show Me Your Stats!

The day after climbing and descending the mountain peak, Janus' guided tour of the estate began. And, surprisingly, he was even more diligent than Ayra had expected, and the tour itself was decent. For several days in a row, she followed him through the city, exploring various places and meeting numerous estate residents. That was when Ayra realized that her previous solo ventures had amounted to nothing more than scratching the surface.
Janus was truly active, energetic, and seemed to have boundless stamina. He knew people all over the city, and there wasn’t a single place—be it the ranch at the mountain’s foothills or the most secluded alleyway—that he didn’t know. Even though Solar was considered a small estate, after several days of walking around like that, Ayra’s feet were swollen and aching from all the walking. Every time she returned to the castle, she would collapse onto the bed as if passing out.

It’s already so late today… Is he still waiting?
After hastily eating a meal, Ayra left the castle, half-doubting whether Janus would really still be waiting, and headed toward the plaza.
Unexpectedly, Janus was sitting in the exact same spot. Passing time by lazily kicking a small stone with his boot, he immediately stood up and waved at her in an easygoing manner the moment he spotted her. They hadn’t agreed on a meeting time, but they usually met in the morning. Since Ayra had overslept today, she felt a twinge of guilt. Come to think of it, Janus was always there before her.

“How long have you been waiting?”
“Since yesterday.”
Ayra was startled. Did he really mean he had stayed here since they parted ways yesterday? Had he spent the entire day and night outside in this freezing weather, eating and sleeping out here? She couldn’t believe it.

“You’ve lived in this estate for ten years, and you don’t have a place to stay?”
“I’ve never had anything like a home since the day I was born.”
Was he an orphan? Or was it because he was a mercenary and didn’t settle anywhere…? Either way, he didn’t exactly seem like someone who lived on the streets. He didn’t smell bad, at least. In fact, his hair was fluffy and clean, and his skin was free of any grease or dirt. Did the estate have some kind of public bathing facility he used every day?

Don’t tell me he’s been bathing in the river in this freezing weather…
Ayra shivered involuntarily at the thought and, without another word, took him to a tavern to at least buy him a late lunch. The hot broth and the meat-and-vegetable-stuffed steamed buns warmed her up. After they finished eating, they wandered the streets for a while before she bought some jerky and handed a piece to Janus as well. The estate seemed to lack street food vendors, which likely meant its commerce hadn’t developed much.
“So, where are we going today? If it’s another mountain, I’ll have to decline in advance.”

“Well, let’s just go wherever our feet take us.”
Janus answered while casually tearing a strip of jerky with his teeth, chewing leisurely. His sharp canines flashed white for a moment.
“…Alright!”

Even as she answered, Ayra had to resist the urge to ask, Wherever our feet take us? How far? How many hours? She had recently come to a painful realization—her stamina was absolutely terrible. If the Stamina Stat ever became visible, the difference between hers and Janus’ would undoubtedly be at least two or three times.
Judging by how he tossed me onto that cliff like a pebble, his Strength Stat must be absurd too…
Dragging her sore feet, Ayra followed Janus and suddenly found herself lost in thought.

But what exactly determines a person’s Stamina Stat? Since it’s based on accumulated experiences, is it the average number of steps taken per day? Does strength factor into it? And how does it account for people with weak constitutions—
Suddenly, her vision went dark, and stars exploded in front of her eyes. With a yelp, she snapped back to reality, realizing that she had walked straight into a doorframe while exiting a general store. Janus, who had gone ahead and turned around at the sound, looked at her with an exasperated expression.
“Are your eyes even working properly? Why do you keep running into things?”
“Ugh, they’re working just fine…”

“I could walk around blindfolded and still do better than you.”
…Wait a minute. Hadn’t they had almost the exact same conversation recently?
Ayra let out a sigh while rubbing her sore forehead. She could block a sword aimed at her throat or dodge an arrow shot from a distance, but apparently, she couldn’t prevent herself from blindly crashing into things. Feeling slightly humiliated, she shot Janus a glare and retorted.

“There’s no way you could do better than me while blindfolded.”
“Wanna bet? Let’s see if I bump into anything or not.”
A bet, right here and now?

More than that—there was no way even the most incredible mercenary could walk around blindfolded and avoid obstacles. Yet Janus looked so confident and relaxed that Ayra couldn’t help but feel a twinge of doubt.
“If it’s a bet, what’s at stake?”
“If you win, I’ll grant you any wish.”

Janus spoke as if there was nothing he couldn’t fulfill, despite being a man with nothing but ragged clothes, a worn-out sword at his waist, and no home to his name. And yet, ever since their first meeting, he had carried himself with the easy confidence of someone who owned the whole world.
“And if I lose?”
“Well, you can just play a song for me on that thing you took last time.”

The instrument Janus was referring to was that lyre-like thing. Ayra had picked it up when he carelessly discarded it, but returning it now felt awkward, so she had stashed it away in her subspace inventory. Winning would be nice, but even losing wouldn’t be a bad outcome, so she simply nodded in agreement. More than anything, she was curious about how exactly he planned to walk around blindfolded.
As soon as Ayra accepted the bet, Janus grabbed the hem of his shirt and casually tore off a strip of fabric. He ripped it so cleanly that the tear ran up the side like a slit in a cheongsam, exposing a long stretch of his side. For a moment, Ayra’s gaze was instinctively drawn to the glimpse of sculpted abs peeking through.
While she stood there slack-jawed, Janus tied the torn cloth around his eyes, blindfolding himself. Now that the most striking feature of his face was covered, the sharp curve of his nose and the line of his red lips stood out even more.

Without realizing it, Ayra bit down on her lower lip. They were the same gender, but she had to admit—this was definitely… well, a lot. He was incredibly good-looking, even sexy. In both her past and present lives, she had never been drawn to someone this quickly before. She had seen all sorts of bizarre and breathtakingly beautiful things in Labyrinth, but never once had she reacted like this.
“Shall we stop by the mercenary office today?”
Grinning broadly, Janus strode forward without hesitation. Ayra, nervous, hurried after him, but he moved so naturally, as if he could see everything just fine. He smoothly sidestepped people as they passed, hopped over protruding stones and fences with ease, and even avoided a bucket of dirty water someone was dumping from a window. Completely unfazed, he casually asked,

“Do you know what a mercenary office does?”
“More or less…”
In territories where dragons had settled, external invasions were nearly impossible. Aside from a rare few, most humans—even a million-strong army—couldn’t stand against a dragon.

However, dragons only protected their own land; they weren’t responsible for feeding humans. As a result, many of these territories sent their excess military forces out as mercenaries to earn money in other regions. These wandering mercenaries, constantly ebbing and flowing like tides, needed a place to gather—hence, mercenary offices. There were stretches of unclaimed land without governance, but there was no estate in the world without a mercenary office.
“They’re useful allies to have. They cost money, but they’re versatile—you can get them to do all sorts of odd jobs.”
Ayra listened carefully, storing the information away, but she was still eyeing Janus with deep suspicion. How the hell is he moving this well while blindfolded? She was seeing it with her own eyes, yet she couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t like he was a mage who could use magic. No, even with magic, moving this smoothly would be nearly impossible.

Burning with curiosity, Ayra circled around Janus before stepping directly into his path on purpose.
But instead of dodging, he reached out and perfectly caught her hand. Then, with his other arm, he lightly wrapped his hand around her waist.
“Ah!”

Ayra gasped, startled by the warmth of his grip. His red lips curved into a lazy smirk. She couldn’t pull away—his grasp was firm, almost predatory, like she had been caught by a beast.
Caught off guard, she instinctively followed his lead. Now, the two of them were walking together, pressed very close, drawing quite a few stares from the people around them. Feeling their gazes, Ayra belatedly struggled to break free, but of course, it was impossible.
Janus, as if they were at a ballroom dance, began humming a tune off-key, moving with an exaggeratedly light step.

“Stop it…”
Ayra squirmed, growing increasingly anxious that someone might recognize her identity. But before she could protest further, Janus lifted her up entirely. He spun her in a full circle, his grip around her waist so tight that it almost knocked the wind out of her.
In broad daylight, in the middle of a busy street.

Ayra could feel the weight of every single stare drilling into them.
“Put me down!”
Ignoring her protests, Janus twirled her even more gracefully. There was no such thing as a waltz in this world, but if there were, this would be the closest thing to it. Their bodies were pressed so close together that Ayra felt the sheer solidity of Janus' frame. He looked lean at a glance, but his chest was broad and firm.

As she was reluctantly spun around in his arms, her silver hair and robe flared out like flowing waves. Janus’ grip was relentless, pulling her flush against him, so close that their chests almost touched.
Her heart was pounding wildly, like a restless bird flapping its wings in the spring breeze. In stark contrast, Janus' heartbeat was slow and steady—completely calm.