CHAPTER 59: NOT ALL HEROES DESERVE A ROOM KEY AND THREE COINS

Finn turned his head toward the voice.

It was the receptionist.

She looked... miserable. Not angry—just tired. And maybe a little guilty.

Behind him, the crowd kept cheering Ardin like he just invented charity. Meanwhile, Finn and his band of misfits stood awkwardly in front of the counter—right where the chaos began.

The receptionist sighed, rubbing her temples. "Look... I’m sorry for selling you guys short."

"No shit!" Finn barked. "He stole my money and—" He paused, really looked at her. Saw the dark circles, the way her eyes drooped like she’d aged a decade in ten minutes.

"...And, well," he mumbled. "Still. Not cool."

She exhaled, staring down at her reflection in her cold cup of coffee. "If I’d given you the reward and credit, I would’ve lost my job. And I... I can’t afford that."

Finn sighed. "It’s fine. I’m sure we can—"

"Like hell it’s fine!" Majestria snapped. "I am a literal goddess, hello?! I need shelter, and I refuse to sleep outside with the common fungus!"

SMACK.

Finn calmly slapped his palm over her mouth, yanked her in close, and locked her in a bear-hug to prevent further divine tantrums.

"Hehe. Sorry about that..." he laughed nervously, trying not to get smited by both the goddess and the receptionist.

"No, really... it’s okay." She walked back to the key rack behind her, pulled one off, then slid it across the counter. "Here. That’s a room key. Two nights, free of charge. Should give you time to figure things out."

Both Finn and Majestria stared at the key like it was made of pure gold.

"...And..." the receptionist dug into her pocket and pulled out two copper coins and a single silver. "It’s not much. But it should cover food and basic supplies for at least a day. I really can’t offer more."

Finn blinked at the coins, stunned.

Majestria’s eyes, however, lit up like a spoiled princess spotting a clearance sale.

Without warning, she launched herself forward, shoving Finn away with a strength he didn’t know she possessed.

"Finally!" she declared, snatching the coins like they had her name engraved on them. "Rightful compensation for my divine suffering. I carried that entire quest on my celestial back!"

She glanced down at her partially torn dress and scoffed. "Ugh. That stupid demon chicken ruined my outfit. This barely covers the cost."

"Cool, cool..." Finn muttered, deadpan.

Pinch.

He grabbed her ear and twisted gently.

"Eep!" she squeaked, trying to bat his hand away.

Twist.

"AAAH!—Stop it, mortal vermin!"

Finn smiled tightly, dragging her backward by the ear like an annoyed babysitter. "I am so sorry about her. She’s still adjusting to this place. Please ignore everything she says. She has some things going on in her head."

Majestria hissed, but stayed quiet—probably plotting his downfall via divine wedgie.

The receptionist gave a tired smile. "You guys are odd. But thanks. For not being a douchebag like the ’hero,’ over there."

"You’re welcome," Finn muttered. "We’ll go... not exist in public for a while."

He grabbed the three coins and the wooden room key. But before slipping them into his pocket, he paused—gazing down at the coins with a strange, thoughtful look.

Then—

"It’s not fair..." Lickothorn muttered.

Loud enough for everyone to hear.

She placed both hands over her flat chest and glared at the receptionist with a mixture of despair and jealousy. "You have more breasts than me... What are you hiding?!"

The receptionist blinked. "What?"

Lickothorn scowled deeper. "You’re the same race as me... but you’ve got boobs. Why?!"

The receptionist looked down, cupped her modest chest, and shrugged. "They’re... normal-sized?"

"It’s not fair..." Lickothorn whispered again, gripping her nonexistent assets like she was trying to conjure something through sheer force of will.

The receptionist stared at her for a long moment—then wisely decided to look back at Finn instead, who was still deep in thought, staring at the coin like it contained forbidden lore.

"...Are you wondering who those faces are on the coins?" she asked.

Finn blinked out of his thoughts and looked up. "Yeah. Kinda curious."

He stepped forward, leaving Majestria behind. She didn’t even notice—too busy proudly adjusting her bust and side-eyeing Lickothorn like she’d just won a beauty contest with zero effort.

The receptionist took the copper coin from his palm and pointed to the man’s head engraved on it. He wore a soft, round, feathered Renaissance-style flat cap.

"That’s Gilden Markwright," she explained. "He helped establish the Sapient Kingdom’s currency system. They put his face on the copper coin in honor of his work."

Finn blinked. "Huh. That’s... surprisingly normal."

Chestelle peeked over his shoulder and nodded solemnly. "That guy looks like he plays the flute."

Then the receptionist pointed to the silver coin, which featured a naked man holding a flag, wind dramatically blowing the cloth behind him like a patriotic shampoo commercial.

"This is the national symbol of the Sapient Kingdom. It represents humanity’s spirit... or something like that."

Finn squinted. "...Is he naked?"

"Completely."

"Cool."

He nodded, oddly charmed by the history. For once, the world wasn’t completely unhinged.

Well, except for the part with the flying pigs. That still haunted him.

Respect to the wizard who made that disaster happen, he thought bitterly.

"So there you have it," the receptionist said with a small smile. "If you ever manage to get ahold of an gold coin, I’ll gladly tell you who’s on that one, too."

Finn hummed in appreciation. Chestelle let out a soft gasp.

"What if your face was on a coin one day, Finn?" she said, eyes sparkling. "That’d be so cool!"

Finn chuckled awkwardly. "I guess. Kinda doubt that’ll happen, though."

The receptionist smiled faintly, then tilted her head. "Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t know any of this. You’re human, after all."

"Yeah? Well, I could say the same to you," Finn replied. "You seem to know a lot about human currency for someone who’s clearly an elf."

The receptionist gave a soft chuckle, but her eyes dropped to the counter. Something in her expression shifted. Like there was more behind her words... but she didn’t say anything.

Finn didn’t push it.

He’d already spent too much time here embarrassing himself, getting slapped, dragged into nonsense, and pinching a goddess by the ear.

Now it was time to leave. Time to find that room key’s matching door and pray it had four walls and no talking furniture.

He held up the key.

"...But where the hell is this room, anyway?"