Nearer, Yet Farther

"Damn, looking at the bulge in your pants, I'm getting envious," said Gilbert.

Sven kept moving his hands toward the inner pockets of his pants to feel the said 'bulge.' Even he had to admit it was quite a bit bigger than usual.

"You might tear a hole in that pocket at this rate. Haha!" Gilbert laughed.

"If you paid me on time, you wouldn't have to look at this bulge, you know."

Sven was feeling a little playful today. He'd received a whole three months' salary at once. The bulge in his pockets was none other than an envelope stuffed with bundles of notes.

Locking up the locker room behind them, Gilbert turned to Sven.

"It's just a one-time thing, you ungrateful lad."

"Thanks, Gilbert."

Sven was genuinely thankful to the manager of the Gillenhall Traders.

"See you later, son."

Sven watched the fat, middle-aged man trudge toward the tavern before heading in the opposite direction, toward the market. On his way, he reminded himself of what he planned to use the money for.

A house of his own in this new world.

It had been three years since he was transmigrated into the body of a young lord from a Viscount's family. At first, he thought he'd hit the jackpot, as nobles in this world lived far more luxurious lives than commoners.But reality hit hard when, even after multiple attempts, he was unable to awaken any kind of magic.His expectations were crushed even further when he found out that anyone who failed to awaken lost their nobility and was kicked out.Sven was kicked out.His mother couldn't bear to leave her son by himself, so she willingly left the manor with him.

Where Sven was headed to right now was not the housing market, but the commons market where all kinds of products were sold ranging from food, fabric to different kinds of mana potions and amulets.

'I should get her something nice today,' Sven thought. 'Some lamb for a feast and some silver jewelry, maybe.'

It was his mother's birthday too, so he intended to surprise her with a little extravagance.

And today, he had money to spare.

---

The red sun on the horizon signaled the end of the day, and the shopkeepers began lighting mana lamps to help them see in the growing darkness.

Weaving his way through the crowd, Sven headed straight toward the butcher at the other end of the market, while still keeping an eye out for any amulet that caught his attention.

"Mr. Hufferman!" he called out. "Got anything decent left?" His eyes were already fixed on the half-severed lamb hanging behind the counter.

The butcher looked up from wiping down his counter and grinned. "Of course, Master Sven. I have something decent for you." He reached for the lamb, cut off a piece, and started chopping it.

"Special occasion?" Hufferman asked. He hadn't seen Sven in a while, and he was aware of his circumstances.

"Nothing much. Just a reminder of times past for my mother."

"Oh, great. Give my best wishes to Ms. Kruse as well. Here's a little extra from me."

Hufferman packed the meat neatly in paper and handed it to Sven. "And come back often, will ya?"

"You didn't have to. Thanks. I might just do that." Sven handed him a one-moor note from his pocket, careful not to touch the bundle of notes he'd received earlier.

"Amazing! Solved your worries?" The butcher was surprised that Sven agreed so readily.

"Mostly."

"Well, good for you, then. You should take it easy sometimes."

The words caught Sven off guard for a moment, but he simply nodded and thanked the old man before heading toward the stall where he'd seen a shiny sparrow pin.

Near the beginning of the market was a magic item seller who also sold trinkets and amulets.

"How much for this?" Sven held the sparrow pin in his hand.

"Eight moors."

"She'll like this," he murmured to himself. He bought it even though he felt the shopkeeper had overpriced it a little.

He tucked the pin into the left-side pocket of his jacket and started walking home with a smile on his face.

---

A beautiful woman in her late thirties walked toward a two-story house with a storefront displaying vases and crucibles. She carried bags of vegetables in one hand and a jar of melted tallow in the other. Shirin, Sven's mother, had just returned from the market, where she had bought today's groceries and a little extra for her special day. She intended to treat her son to something delicious when he returned home from work at the merchants.

Everything was going well until she opened the door to her room on the second floor and stepped inside.

A stranger suddenly jumped her from behind. She was held at knifepoint.

"Where is it? Talk, and I'll let you live," the man threatened her.

"Wh... Where's what?" she asked in a broken voice, terrified.

"You know what I'm talking about. Speak! Where have you kept the money?"

She quickly fabricated a lie.

"I don't know. My son keeps it. I don't know where he has..."

But unknowingly, her eyes flicked toward the floorboard beneath the dining table.

The man noticed.

He slapped her hard across the cheek, tied her limbs with rope, closed the door, and moved toward the table.

Shirin's cheek bled as she stared at the man. His head was covered with a cloth, leaving only his eyes visible.

The knife in his hand looked longer than when it had been held against her throat, almost the size of a crowbar. With it, he pried open the floorboard.

"Found it!"

There were multiple bundles of one-moor notes wrapped in a washcloth-like fabric. He took them all and tied the cloth around his waist.

Just as he approached Shirin again, possibly to silence her for good...

_Knock._

_Knock._

"Mother, open the door." He heard Sven.

Shirin didn't make a sound.

She was worried that her son would get injured if she cried for help. Moreover, the man had used, what looked like some kind of special knife. For her, the well-being of her son was far more important than her own safety or the money.

The man quickly looked at the door, then glanced around the room. His eyes landed on the window. He broke through it and escaped. He looked toward Shirin one last time before sprinting away as fast as he could.

"Sven! Help! I can't open the door. Force yourself in."

Shirin finally had the courage to call her son for help.

---

Sven was still smiling when he knocked on the door. One arm carried the lamb, while the other was already reaching toward his jacket for the silver sparrow pin.

A slight frown appeared on his face when he noticed the door was locked from the inside, something his mother never did. The frown deepened when he was about to knock for a second time and heard the cry for help.

"Sven! Help!"

His heart sank. The lamb he was carrying dropped to the floor with a thud. He immediately imagined his mother's face, crying for help. His body moved on its own.

He pushed against the door as hard as he could. When it didn't budge, he stepped back a few paces and started ramming his shoulder against the wooden door.

_Crack._

The door gave in.

The entire room was a mess. The mattress was overturned, the table was flipped, and clothes, utensils, and other items were scattered all over the floor.

More importantly, Shirin was lying on the floor, bound by ropes, with blood and tears dripping down her cheeks.

"Mother! What happened? Who did this?"

Sven immediately rushed toward his mother and hurriedly untied the ropes binding her limbs. His mother, still shivering, tried to speak again, but the words caught in her throat.

"Calm down."

He helped her into a sitting position and wiped away her tears and blood. He quickly got some water from the drum, poured it into a bowl, and helped her drink it. He held her hands and sat beside her until she calmed down.

She described the whole situation to Sven, from the moment she unlocked the door to when she heard the knock and the attacker broke through the window. She didn't leave out how the man had already been inside the room, or how the knife in his hands seemed to change sizes.

"I'm sorry, Sven." _Hiccup._ "I couldn't protect it. The money. He took it all."

"It's okay, Mother. It's alright. It's just money. We can get it back."

Sven had already realized the money was missing when he saw the pried-open floorboard beneath the table.

"I'm more worried about you." He looked at her face. The blood had clotted, and the bleeding had stopped.

"We need to go to the doctor. Can you walk?"

"I'm fine, Sven. Nothing happened to me. It's just a minor cut. I have some ointment above the cupboard. That's all I need."

"Go to the sheriff's first. You need to report this sooner rather than later."

Sven argued that she should visit the doctor, but she insisted that she was fine. After a while, Shirin cleaned herself up. Sven applied the ointments to the cuts on her face and a little on her neck. It wasn't a deep cut.

Sven called the potter's wife, Ms. Hilda, from downstairs and asked her to stay with his mother before leaving the house.

Sven immediately looked around the area surrounding the house. Finding nothing suspicious, he darted off toward the sheriff's office near the center of town.

---