Hans jolted upright, gasping for air. His chest heaved as the warmth of home vanished, replaced by the cold shadows of a dimly lit inn room.
Gone was the scent of stew. Gone was the soft lilt of Emma's laughter.
Only the musty wool blanket and creaking floorboards remained.
Hetzer stood at his side, arms folded and eyes sharp. Her usual brashness was muted, replaced with something tighter. Something...tense.
"You were thrashing in your sleep," she said, her voice low. "Shouting names I didn't recognize."
Hans blinked. His skin still burned from phantom touches—Emma's hands brushing against his cheek, the sunlight warming their old kitchen table.
"Emma..."
Hetzer's brows furrowed.
"You said that name. Repeatedly. You even murmured it two days ago." Her lips tightened. "Commander... you're not cheating on Hetzer, are you?"
Hans coughed, halfway between a laugh and a wheeze. "Cheating on—Hetzer, you can't be serious."
She stiffened. Her gloved fingers gripped the hem of her black uniform skirt, the faintest tremble betraying her.
"Hetzer is not jealous!" she snapped, cheeks flushing. "Hetzer is simply... ensuring Commander remains honorable!"
He almost smiled. Almost.
"Okay," Hans muttered, brushing hair from his sweaty forehead. "Okay. Let's... get some breakfast before you declare war."
Hetzer's stomach rumbled in response.
They ate in silence, chewing through the last of the bread and dried meat they'd packed from the village. It wasn't much, but it quieted the gnawing in their bellies.
But hunger wasn't the real problem.
"We need a job," Hans finally said, fingers drumming against the table. "Or we'll be sleeping in the gutter by tomorrow. But what kind of work can a Panzer commander and his..."
He glanced at Hetzer.
She was licking stew residue from her fingers with almost feral intensity.
"...unconventional companion do in this world?"
Hetzer's eyes lit up. "Hetzer can fight! Very good at destroying things! Want to see?"
"No!" Hans grabbed her wrist just as she made a movement toward transforming. "No tank demonstrations. Especially not indoors."
She pouted, clearly disappointed. "Hmph. Then maybe... the lady downstairs knows something."
He blinked. "That... actually might work."
The inn's common area was quiet, save for the clink of plates and a barmaid wiping tables. The same one from yesterday.
Hans stepped forward. "Excuse me. We're looking for—"
Before he could finish, Hetzer slammed her hands on the counter.
"Listen well, human! The great Hetzer and her famed commander require employment worthy of her panzer prowess! What glorious battles await in this pitiful town?!"
The barmaid stumbled back, eyes wide.
Hans yanked Hetzer back by the collar.
"What my eccentric companion means is," he said through clenched teeth, "we're skilled fighters looking for honest work."
"What's wrong with you?" he whispered sharply. "You've never acted like this before."
Hetzer pouted, arms crossed. "Whose fault do you think it is?"
The barmaid slowly composed herself, still staring at Hetzer's outfit.
She was still wearing her standard gear: a sleek, Field Gray uniform jacket fitted tight over her torso, with stylized insignia on the collar. The shirt was barely long enough and reached mid-thigh, and grey short boots completed the look.
"Well..." the barmaid muttered, "you could try the Adventurer's Guild. They always need muscle. Two streets east—big sign with a sword and shield. Can't miss it."
She hesitated. "Though... maybe get your friend some armor first. The Guild can be, uh, particular about appearances."
Hetzer's eyes narrowed.
"Particular about what now—?"
Hans grabbed her again, dragging her toward the door.
Outside, the sun had risen fully. Merchants set up stalls, children dashed through alleyways, and carts clattered down stone roads.
"Alright," Hans muttered, "we find the Guild, get a job—"
"Wait!" Hetzer stopped mid-step, planting her boots firmly on the cobblestone. "First, Commander explains. Who. Is. Emma?!"
A nearby merchant nearly tripped over her, muttering curses.
Hans sighed.
"Emma is..." He paused, chest tightening. "She's from another life. She doesn't matter now."
Hetzer glared. "Commander is avoiding. Hetzer hates when Commander avoids!"
He met her eyes. "We have no money. No plan. Can we focus on not starving first?"
Hetzer hesitated. Then, her stomach rumbled again.
She looked away. "...Fine. But this conversation is not over."
The Adventurer's Guild was impossible to miss.
The building loomed like a fortress, its heavy oak doors swinging open as a group of ragged fighters stumbled out, laughing and reeking of swamp muck.
Hans cringed.
Inside, the place was chaos. A massive board held dozens of handwritten quest notices. Tables overflowed with warriors, mages, and mercenaries in varying states of sobriety.
A bored-looking clerk sat at the far end, flipping through a ledger.
Hans approached. Hetzer followed, earning more than a few glances from the crowd—most lingering on her legs. "We'd like to register," Hans said.
"Five silver," the clerk replied flatly. "Evaluation quest decides your rank."
Hans winced and handed over the last of their coin. The clerk finally looked up, her eyes trailing from Hans to Hetzer—and lingering there.
"You sure about this?" she asked.
Hans didn't answer. Hetzer grinned.
"Hetzer is ALWAYS sure!" she declared, slamming her fist onto the counter hard enough to make the clerk flinch. "Now give us something worthy of our skills!"
The clerk sighed and slid a parchment across the counter. "Fine. Giant rats in the sewers. Bring back ten tails for proof."
Hans groaned. "Sewers? Really?"
Hetzer, however, looked positively delighted. "Rats?! Like the ones that chewed through the wiring in Kursk?! Oh, this will be FUN!"
Hans was surprised, "You remember about those things?!" He asked.
"Of course, Hetzer does. She also remembers how commander stayed up all night with the mechanics to fix those wearings." She replied as if boasting.
The attendant was slightly uncomfortable. "Please don't speak of your personal stories here and complete the quest before noon to get your official guild ID." She reminded them.
"Ahem, we are new in this town. Can you tell us how to access the sewers?" Hans changed the subject.
"You can buy the city map for a bronze coin. That's the guild policy." The lady remained silent for a while.
"But since you have already exhausted your monetary supplies, you can access the sewers through the back of the alleyway behind the guild which leads to the town square." She quietly gave the direction.
Hans blinked in surprise at the clerk's unexpected kindness. He gave a small, grateful nod. "Thank you. That helps more than you know."
Hetzer, however, leaned aggressively over the counter, eyes gleaming. "Aha! So this human does possess a shred of decency after all!"
The clerk flinched back as Hans immediately hooked his arm around Hetzer's waist and yanked her away. "What she means," he said through gritted teeth, "is that we appreciate the information."
The clerk just sighed, waving them off. "Just go. And for the love of the gods, wash before you come back."