2-23 The Civil Official

"Armesian Mid-Unit, Warrior Senka and eight others have returned."

"Understood. Await further orders at the training grounds."

The group made it back to the Cross Point base and was ushered inside toward the training grounds.

Arriving at the training grounds—which resembled an elementary school playground—Firo flopped down, limbs splayed out.

"Ahh~ finally back! Sooo tired~~"

The others chuckled wryly but relaxed, unwinding in their own ways.

"This one was especially exhausting... I want to wash off the sweat in a bath."

"That's 'cause of Tsuburaka's female stink, y'know~"

"Shut up, Tra. It's still better than your old-man smell."

"Old-man smell? I'm not that old! ...Right? I don't smell like that, do I?"

Torabutosu looked around desperately for reassurance, but no one met his eyes.

"Well, it was business as usual... but that nest was no joke."

Ignoring the dejected Torabutosu, the young Kerusumeme spoke up.

"Feragen?"

"What else?"

"Didja see me finish it off with my magic?"

"Nah, Firo, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you were off fighting a different one. I didn't see a thing."

"No waaay~"

The group was chattering away happily.

Amid the lively banter, a uniformed man who looked like a civil official emerged from the Warrior Squad building and approached us.

"Armesian Mid-Unit, right? Confirmed. Return to your barracks and stand by."

"What about me?"

"Hm? Oh, the two mercenaries—come with me for settlement."

"Right now?"

"We can do it later if you prefer."

"Nah, now's fine."

We followed the official into the building.

"See ya, Yoyo!"

"Thanks for the help this time."

"If we run into each other again, dinner's on you!"

I turned back to wave lightly at Firo's squad.

We'd built up a decent rapport over time, but parting ways felt casual enough. If we stuck around the Teba region, we'd probably cross paths again soon.

"See ya."

"Thank you for everything."

Sasha bowed deeply as well.

I capped it off with the Warrior Squad salute—fist to chest.

They returned it in unison.

The official led us to a small private room, big enough for four or five people.

After a short wait, a different official entered, looking grim as he pored over some documents.

"Er, Yoyo, right?"

"That's me."

"Yeah, sorry about this—the Armesian unit went off-script from the plan. Can we settle up later?"

"Ah, sure."

"Appreciate it."

With that, we were tentatively dismissed and headed out of the Warrior Squad grounds into the town proper.

I stocked up on some tough, steamed-bun-like snacks from a street vendor and strolled aimlessly through town.

It was already evening—no motivation for monster hunting—so I decided to just rest up from the long trip.

"So soft... What's that fruit inside?"

"Kinda ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠like walnuts... but with a tangy bite. Pickled in something?"

And so, munching on street food while wandering the town.

It wasn't a big place—practically an add-on to the Warrior Squad base—so it didn't take long to cover.

"Small park, huh? Benches—let's sit."

"Yes."

We found a spot centered around a little pond, ringed by trees and benches, and took a seat.

Once settled, I cast a water spell, spinning a globe of water around my finger while eating.

"Man, wiped out. This trip really took it out of me."

"Your magic has improved remarkably."

"Yeah... seems like magic suits me. Didn't even use the magic gun this time."

I'd planned to if things got dicey, but never found the moment. My fire magic packing decent punch now was a big factor.

Plus, expectations for my defensive spells, and enemies weak to fire— all kept the gun holstered.

Honestly, hiding it was losing its edge.

If I could sling solid fireballs, foes would brace for magic anyway, dulling the gun's surprise value.

The gun still hit harder, so it wasn't useless as a trump card... but.

A flock of waterfowl had landed in the park's central pond.

I snuck closer, drew water from under their feet with magic, and pulled it in. The birds flapped up in alarm.

I spun the water orb overhead, chasing the first one like a game.

"...Indeed."

Sasha watched the orbs' mock race with a half-hearted reply. Could I busk as a street performer with this?

"Felt like an unexpected big job, but the real question is next moves."

"Next?"

"Minimum daily pay was three silver coins, so tomorrow we'll have a decent haul."

"Yes."

"And apparently, Cross Point's south side's gotten riskier—more spawn points or something."

"So it seems."

"Options: base here and scout north, head back to Tarstira for more grasslands, or move to the capital."

"The capital... isn't it dangerous?"

"Some nasty monsters, yeah... but spot-dependent?"

"True, but."

"Gotta check again. Another reason for the capital: shopping. Need magic stones for your magitech, and sword/bow maintenance."

"Perhaps..."

Talking it out, the capital felt like the smart play.

"But we could gear up in Tarstira. Magic stones—hunt shops or backtrack to where we bought before."

"True. That town's pretty far, though."

"Unavoidable. Weigh capital risks vs. no shops there?"

No countering that...

Hit the monster hunter guild here for intel first.

Action starts tomorrow.

I woke to a pleasant warmth on the bed.

Overdid it a bit—Sasha was still out. I teased her sleeping face a while until she stirred.

No inn cafeteria, so minimal gear and out for breakfast: oh-yaki-like things stuffed with sweet-spicy veggie stir-fry. Delicious—we both went for seconds.

Strolling to the monster hunter guild, it was open, so work mode on.

"Tarastreskind intel? Too vague—can't narrow it."

"Mm, fair. Town facilities and road dangers from here."

"Facilities in public docs—check those. Road security: give me time for announcements. Paid info too?"

"All info up to ten silver. Leftover? Capital-area monster paid intel."

"Got it."

Wait in private room—but public docs first, so hold.

One hour later, to the room as instructed.

We split up in the doc area, gathering info.

No staff sorting—docs scattered, tough to pinpoint.

"...Found something: Tarastreskind has monster hunter HQ, mercenary branch. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Town facilities unclear."

"Gotta go see?"

"Yeah."

"Road monsters listed here."

"Nice. Lemme see."

...Names galore—hard to memorize.

"Monster guidebooks too—full check possible."

"Right."

Spent rest on monster info.

Hour up, to room—no staff yet.

Five minutes: elderly plump... healthy woman enters with paper stacks.

"You Yoyo's party?"

"Yep."

"Right right, hold on. Ten silvers' worth? Generous. Took forever to gather."

"Uh... thanks?"

"Help carry? Big bro!"

"...Sure."

Followed her back, hauled docs.

"Quite a pile?"

"Tarastreskind info's huge. No time to filter—brought it all!"

"Got it. Explain?"

"Sure. First: simple map. No takeout, no copying—memorize."

"Center's Tarastreskind. Far east... three days to Cross Point. South... Severance Mountains in brown. Before that, Demon Forest."

"Demon Forest, huh."

"You won't go that far. Ignore it. Mountains center-north flows Kansan River. Southeast to river: flatlands, king's Warrior Squad garrison."

"Heard that."

"Oh? Northwest flat too, national army garrison."

"Yeah, better not get too close..."

"Right. Roads fine, no complaints. Don't approach bases casually—like Cross Point. Northeast: small hills, mercs/hunters."

"Huh."

Map showed northeast brown patch—narrow, light shade vs. Severance. Small hills.

Beyond north: blank, north wall. East: Teba northeast grasslands, Eneito Base etc.

Eneito direct meant crossing Kansan. Cross Point roads better choice.

"Southwest near lake/forest—avoid. Even pros die. No overconfidence."

"So hunters hit northeast hills standard?"

"Most do. Some parties chase big scores in forest/mountains."

"Heard fame in Tarastreskind means something—what's that?"

"Tons of hunters there. Rumors of daily gold-coin parties. Fame = steady. Stand out, tavern drunks give nicknames, love it. You guys try."

"...You been?"

"Many times. Tavern 'Undefeated Ramza'? Say Eliza sent ya."

"...Acquaintance?"

"Ex-husband."

"R-right."

Deep drama. Don't pry.

Skip.

"Road info?"

"You checked docs? Free: not much more."

"Paid?"

"Danger distributions, battle logs—from Warrior Squad. South/north roads: many. Those files all."

"From those, road appearances only—still tons?"

"Sorting's work... My pick ok?"

"Please."

Healthy auntie Eliza filtered docs, key dangers.

Roads Warrior Squad secured well. (Tarstira-Cross Point safe-ish, still subhuman ambush.) Stay vigilant.

Watch: Flame Runner (fast horse-type), Gute (winged dragon-type).

High mobility, slip patrols, hit travelers.

No group assaults like subhumans.

Straight to Tarastreskind, no detours: fine.

Glanced at Sasha—poker face. Probably ok...

"Got it. Thanks."

Memo'd key points, wrapped up...

"Yeah? Careful in Tarastreskind—security's iffy..."

"Heard merchants bring kids who..."

"Great shop, special herbs..."

Talk torrent—hour vanished.

"S-sorry, got stuff. Regrettable, but."

"...Hm? Oh, shame. Talked too much? Young duo trip—mom mode kicked in..."

"Appreciate it, but later."

Cut before round two, escaped.

"Come anytime!"

Cheerful send-off.

Nice, but chatterbox pain. Switch gears, prep ahead.

Settlement prep notice pending—no word.

Hunted light nearby, stocked supplies, resumed training.

Afternoons: guild paid spars vs. staff. Varied opponents daily—fun.

Vets (ex-warriors/mercs) common—tough. Led in power/speed, flipped at end. PvP skills green.

Town shops/stalls for supplies.

Polished magic stones for Sasha's gear: three for three silver—steal. Don's nuts cheap bag, but sandy bottom.

Rip-off... Stalls risky. Lesson learned.

Strolling stalls, spotted intriguing item.

"Shopkeep, this?"

"Eh? Magitech, I think..."

Shady helmet... gas mask-ish?

Sunglass lenses, full-face cover. Breathless-looking.

"Magitech? Mind if I channel magic?"

"Fine, but buy if breaks."

"...Price?"

"Five silver."

Steep?

Fraud bait? Curiosity won—channeled.

Fraud? Flex Warrior Squad ties/muscle. Thug mode.

Donned: full cover, stuffy. Lenses tinted dark.

"...Oh?"

Magic flow: vivid color, metal parts transparent too.

"...!"

Gulped. Unobstructed view. Clear pan left/right/up/down.

Breathing fine. Head moves silent, perfect fit. Auto-adjust?

"Shopkeep, auto-sizes?"

"Huh, does it? No clue here."

"Perfect—helmet shopping. Sold."

"Cheers."

Owner oblivious to auto-fit/vision... maybe.

No spill. Paid five silver, new helmet mine.

"Bought it, but looks sus as hell."

"No returns."

"Won't."

Gruff—denied anyway. No way returning! Owner agrees—mine.

"Let's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠go."

"Master, wearing that out?"

"Sorry, too weird for town."

Full-faces exist, but gas-mask too outlandish.

Post-apoc scavenger vibe.

Swapped old helmet (rarely used), stored both subspace.

Armorsmith took old free—scrap later. Sad end, rest in peace.

No contact still—pocket change hunts, bargains, intel. Earnings fizzled, funds dipped.

Under ten silver—danger zone—innkeeper relayed Warrior Squad message.

"Finally."

Sighed, counting dwindled coin.

Week since return. Stiffed...? Relief at contact.

"This way."

Fluffy-robed Warrior Squad civil led to prior wait room.

Wait: fluffier pompous official + silver-long beauty in leather armor entered.

"Yoyo, apologies for delay."

"Captain!"

Silver-long: noble Armesian captain.

"Unexpected issues, HQ mishandled. Intel messy."

"I see."

Merc pay backburnered.

"As apology, passed your feats up. Extra pay incoming."

"Understood."

Lip service? Still welcome—broke.

Official eyed our chumminess coldly, spoke post-pause.

"Squad's broke too... Can't have rumors of bad pay. Calculated fair."

"Grateful for consideration."

Noble-ish, pompous—polite mode.

Recent Squad exposure honed local honorifics.

Head knowledge useless sans nuance—could sound weeb ("sessha...") or insulting.

Cautious before. Learned from Squad chats: this level OK.

Shoulda asked Sasha sooner—ex-merchant savvy.

"Docs here, sign/stamp contract."

Read: contract fine, no pay sheet.

"Before signing, pay confirmation?"

"Proper order."

Official frowned, captain backed—pre-sign check.

Solo official = lowball no-complaint?

"Base: three silver/day mage, one follower. Contributions: one each magic/cooking, overall one more—seven total. Good?"

"Yes."

"Last one's really for Wise Beast. Camp/hunt care."

"Ah, Don."

"Seven days: 49 silver base."

"Understood."

Nice—out of red.

"Subjugation sales, magic stones etc.: est. one gold."

"Eh?"

"Dissatisfied?"

Smirking beauty—teasing.

"No, just surprised high."

"Details on paper ok, but I vouch clean."

"Fine then."

Can't demand proof.

"New species boosted eval."

"...That Feragen?"

"Yes. No name, 'stealth-type' etc. No prior sightings—new discovery likely. Institutions pay premium."

"I see..."

Knew stones vary by attribute/shape/use. New: research first.

Decent size/shape, stealth ability—researcher frenzy expected.

"Finally, hazard pay. Sudden mission, high risk. Battle contribs noted. 51 silver."

"Thank you."

Hazard fair? Odd 51: courtesy to 100 silver = one gold w/base.

"Further..."

More?

"Helped lots. Pocket 50 silver. Off-record."

"...Yes."

Scribbling official halted grumpy. Default scowl or high pay gripe?

"Total two-and-half gold. Got two gold? Fetch if not."

"Two gold... Be right back."

Official fetched; captain stayed, pulled half-gold pouch.

"My pocket money. Take."

"Grateful..."

Can't refuse... don't want to.

"Expected tens silver, but shocked higher."

"Haha. In exchange..."

?

"Relax. Heavy unexpected losses—ahead, Squad supplements via mercs/hunters. Budget burning. Spread word: good pay?"

"Happy to. Actually was."

Squad PR campaign.

...Few contacts, but ok.

"Please. Admin strained too, but frontline first. Rep matters."

"Tough..."

Orgs rough. Pray no wrinkles, beauty.

Random pity for official amid panic/rogue field/spend surge.

Official back with small pouch.

"Two gold. Check."

"Yes."

Untied: two gleaming gold. Muahaha, mine.

"Confirmed."

"I'll go. Captain, docs later."

"Got it."

"Bye."

Dumped me on captain.

Guided fill/sign, contract done. Handshake.

"Oh, guild vouch too—not pay, but."

"Vouch?"

"Big contrib. Renewal fees waived awhile."

"Ohh."

Thanks.

Contribs waive—forgot. Subtle lifesaver. Captain pro—best gift.

"From subhuman surprise, indebted."

"Nah, us."

"Haha. Last: first impression off."

"Ah, speech? Poor birth, practicing. You're noble."

"Hm. Social skill maybe. Call again? More polished?"

"Will hone."

Crisp beauty farewell, left base. (Subspace) two-and-half gold hand.

Finally grounded.

Night scenes skipped again... maybe none til second join.

Skips repeats.

Nocturne writers with per-chapter erotica? Impressive.