Mob No. 124: “As you can see, it’s mahjong. It’s good for preventing dementia since you use both your hands and your brain.”
After finishing Mom’s cooking for the first time in seven years, I gazed outside, taking a break from the meal,
“Wanna head to the vineyard to walk off the food?”
Dad called out to me
The vineyard I’d seen before only had a few skinny trees and a small grape trellis.
I’d heard they’d expanded it a few times since then, so I was looking forward to seeing it.
We boarded a small air-truck, and in about 20 minutes, we arrived at the vineyard on a hill away from the house.
The vineyard was much larger than the last time I’d seen it.
There were more grapevines now, the original ones had thicker trunks, and the trellis had been raised to 190 cm for easier work, doubling in size.
The vines hadn’t borne fruit yet, so a green canopy stretched overhead.
The ground was dotted with sparse patches of weeds—plants I didn’t even know the names of.
Without a word, both Dad and I naturally started pulling them out.
As we silently worked, Dad spoke up while weeding,
“Seems like work’s going well for you.”
our backs still turned to each other
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Truthfully, I’d rather you quit being a mercenary. Most of that unjust debt’s been repaid, and we’ve got enough savings now.”
Even through his back, I could tell he was worried about me. But honestly, I didn’t think I could do any job but mercenary work at this point.
Unlike Dad, who grew up on a farm, I had no knowledge or experience in agriculture.
All I could do was pull weeds.
“But… you don’t plan on quitting, do you? At the very least, call us when you finish a big job.”
Just as I was wondering how to explain myself, Dad spoke again—still facing away—as if accepting my choice to stay a mercenary.
“Got it. I’ll try my best.”
After that, we kept weeding and tending the vineyard until nearly sunset.
Back home, I had my first drink with Dad.
I’d been underage when I left to become a mercenary, so I couldn’t back then.
Well, I’m not a fan of alcohol, so I only had one 350ml metal bottle of beer.
The next day, I decided to visit Grandma—Lucria Uzoss—at her nursing home.
We’d talked on the phone since she moved in, but this was my first time visiting.
I suggested going as a family, but they’d just visited two days before I arrived, so they declined.
So I borrowed a car, bought souvenirs for Grandma near Valbis Central Station, and headed there.
The nursing home, Pastus, was built on the grounds of Valbis Municipal General Hospital.
Located on a hill near the coastal cliffs, it boasted ocean views from every ward.
After parking, I walked through the hospital garden and stepped inside the facility.
Unlike the hospital, the nursing home had a shared-house atmosphere.
Of course, there were staff stations, direct hospital access, and medical facilities. In the “Lounge Room,” elderly residents were happily doing recreational activities.
Grandpas reenacting historical battles with Fleet Chess.
Grandmas embroidering while gossiping about love lives at their age.
Grandpas and grandmas getting way too excited over some young idol’s music video—to the point it made me nervous.
Others played billiards or darts, while some enjoyed gateball in the courtyard.
They’re way too energetic… Aren’t they all supposed to be sick?
And there was my grandma, at a mahjong table in the corner, utterly dominating two grandpas and a female staff member.
“Long time no see, Grandma. Right off the bat—what are you doing?”
“As you can see, it’s mahjong. It’s good for preventing dementia since you use both your hands and your brain.”
“I get that, but…”
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Grandma was grinning at her pile of scoring sticks, while the grandpas looked furious, and the staff woman seemed spiritually drained.
“Are you… gambling?”
I had to ask.
“Of course not. Now, shall we go to my room?”
She answered with a straight face, but she definitely was gambling.
Grandma’s room was on the third floor, and just as she’d said, the large window overlooked the ocean.
“Again, thank you for coming, John. It’s been seven years since we last met, hasn’t it?”
“You look well, Grandma. How’s your health?”
“It hasn’t worsened, and they say I’ve even improved a bit. Guess staying happy does wonders.”
Still, she looked a little thinner than before.
“Oh, here—a souvenir. Flos Avis Crispy Wafers.”
“Oh, I’m so happy! I love these!”
She placed the box on her shelf, keeping one aside, then opened it, took out a wafer, and happily munched away.
Flos Avis Crispy Wafers were thin wafers with cream filling—Grandma’s favorite.
I’d bought five boxes to share with the staff, but at this rate, she’d eat them all herself.
After finishing one, she spoke up:
“By the way, I heard the money you used to pay off your father’s unfair debt was returned.”
She brought up what my parents must’ve told her earlier.
“Yeah, but…”
“And you tried to give it all back to them, but they refused, and that didn’t sit right with you, did it?”
She’d hit the nail on the head.
“I just want them to keep it in case something happens again. Plus, having a huge sum with no purpose scares me.”
If something happened twice, it could happen a third time—so I wanted them to have it just in case.
But Grandma shook her head.
“After having their mess cleaned up twice, taking their son’s returned money without a second thought? To me, that’s failing as parents. If they’d accepted it, I would’ve scolded them. And you’re a mercenary—you never know what could happen. You should keep it, save it for yourself.”
Her words carried weight—she’d been a teacher even after marrying my farmer grandpa, and even served as a university president.
Even though I’d reluctantly accepted it yesterday, I’d still felt unsettled. But hearing it from Grandma, I finally let go—or maybe just resigned myself.
“Alright. I’ll keep the money.”
“That’s for the best. It’s your money in the first place. Once in a while, spend it on yourself—like this.”
She tapped the Crispy Wafer box with a grin.
“Well then, I think I’ll go win some more.”
With an elegant smile, she grabbed the box and headed for the elevator.
She’s totally gambling…
“Want to join in?”
On the way, she invited me to play mahjong, but I knew I’d never escape if I did.
“I’ll pass.”
I refused without hesitation.
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