"Swish, swish..."
The broom swept across the ground, and Steeran was meticulously sweeping the dust outside the blacksmith shop.
Adventurers watching nearby occasionally glanced at her, and those waiting in line to forge their weapons started commenting on her sweeping technique out of boredom.
"Your stance is wrong, you'll get a sore back quickly sweeping like that."
"You can tell she's not used to cleaning."
"#!?"
Veins popped up on Steeran's forehead as she clenched the broom tightly, and then...
And then nothing. Of course, she couldn't chase them away with a broom. In the past, she would've kicked every single one of them, but not now because she was just a helper at the blacksmith shop.
No helper chases away customers. If she did, a pair of huge fists would instantly punish her.
"Hee-hee." A snickering sound came from the roof not far away. Without looking up, she knew it must be that bastard Merca.
