2-25 Leisurely

I trudged steadily through the pitch-black night.

A completely unexpected windfall.

My new gear, that suspicious helmet, had a night vision effect.

Night vision! For real!

Not the bright, TV-style glow that lights up everything around you—just enough to vaguely make out shapes in the dark.

That's why I hadn't noticed it before, even when wearing it at dusk.

But tonight, in the dead of night under moonlight, I'd thought, Man, it's too dark to see jack, and then suddenly, I could.

Shocking.

Though it felt like a bit more mana was flowing than usual. MP consumption would probably ramp up accordingly.

Even factoring that in, it was useful as hell.

Still, visibility was narrower and shorter than daytime, so I slotted Vigilant as Job 3 for high alert. One other change from the norm: Don had hopped off Sarsa's back and was walking on his own paws.

Sniffing the air with little hn, hns, keeping watch around us. Cute as hell.

"Gii, gitch!"

Don let out a short cry, and far ahead in our path, a faint blue glow appeared.

I veered off the road and froze, but it seemed to have us locked on, heading straight for us. No choice—braced for it. Switched Job 3 to Swordsman.

"HiiheeEEEN!"

Up close, it was straight-up a flaming horse. Same type as the one from daytime. A Flame Runner.

The fire on its back had shifted from red to blue—was it a subspecies, or a time-of-day thing?

I crouched and slapped the ground. Earth rose up, forming a wall about chest-high. And then...

"Sand Needle."

Assuming it matched the regular Flame Runner's magic resistance, I unleashed earth magic.

The earthen spikes gouged its hide but didn't stop it.

Sarsa's arrow flew, embedding in its neck, but it ignored that too and kept charging.

Closing distance fast now, right up to the wall.

I'd hoped it'd rear back and jump—easy pickings. Nope. It accelerated harder and slammed right into the wall.

"Well, that works too."

The Flame Runner's hooves caught, body lurching violently as it crashed posture-first into the wall.

Before raising the wall, I'd slathered the ground ahead with Mud Splash.

Same trick I'd pulled on that bear monster way back.

It barreled in with momentum blunted, whole body committed, so I Air Pressured myself for an emergency dodge, parried with my sword to deflect it rightward as much as possible.

The Flame Runner fully toppled, legs splayed, but its head whipped around, eyes gleaming fiercely—fight still in it.

I gripped the sword one-handed, slashed fluidly while slipping my right hand to my chest. Reached into subspace and pulled out the magic gun—been a while.

Aimed point-blank as it struggled to rise, unloaded power shots. Threw in a scatter blast mid-way. Oh, slot Magigunner as a job too?

Kyuiiiin... bashuu.

Kyuiiiin... bashuu.

Kyukyukyukyuiin...

The high-pitched whine, almost nostalgic now, rang out as globs of light rained down on the Flame Runner over and over.

"Hiiiin..."

It splayed its legs again, this time shrieking in exhaustion.

"Heh."

Finally, channeled mana through the magic sword, swapped to Swordsman job, triggered Strong Strike, and brought the blade straight down.

The Flame Runner convulsed and went limp. The blue glow on its back faded away.

"Wonder how this works, huh."

"Shall I dissect it?"

"Yeah, just grab the magic stone real quick."

"No meat?"

"...Fine, a little."

Figured we'd push on through the dangerous night, but the food demon won out. Took a bit for dissection.

Sarsa handled it, of course.

No proper bleed-out, so don't expect miracles on taste, but she carved off some belly meat, extracted the back magic stone, and buried the rest in the hole I dug.

Took about 20 minutes?

Monsters like that "Night Hunter" thing from before—with nicknames for blending into dark—are a pain if they target you.

Better hurry.

A bit later, a campfire glow flickered ahead.

"Master."

"Enemies?"

"Unclear. But probably Warrior Squad folks."

"You see it?"

"From afar—their gear had some kind of crest. Though it could be stolen."

"Right. Stay cautious."

We got close enough voices carried without shouting, and they hailed us first.

A fine tent by a fire, sentries posted at the flap and around the flames.

"Yo."

"Hey. Warrior Squad?"

"Yup. You solo mercs?"

"Yeah, Monster Hunter Guild affiliates."

I'd prepped my guild card, flashed it casually.

"...Got it. Eager beavers traveling at night, huh. Watch yourselves."

"Yeah. Any monster intel around?"

"Beats me."

No info forthcoming. Whatever.

Presence Detection kept their moves covered; passed the tent and put distance. No issues.

"Their armor did have a crest... but different from before, right?"

"Yes. That one's the capital's Warrior Squad, I think."

"Them, huh."

I'd assumed Teba Warrior Squad.

Capital elites, then. No info sharing, and yeah, less friendly than Teba Squad.

"Camping between the capital and outpost... what're they up to?"

"Hm... looked like a big group. Avoiding the outpost maybe?"

"Yeah, plausible."

Less consideration for other parties, more "We ain't bunking with low-class mercs!" elitism.

We kept walking; the road sloped gently uphill, talk dying down naturally.

Ran into a black snake monster midway, but Presence Detection caught it coming; fireballed it and it bolted. Ambush specialist, probably.

Sky lightened, night fully broken by the time the uphill ended, shifting to a steeper descent.

Sprawling before us: a city way bigger than Slagee or the satellites—a massive urban expanse.

Nothing on a port city, but still.

"Whoa, Tarstira, huh."

No color coordination—patchwork vibe overall, brownish tones. Inner walls sturdy stone, outer ones shabby layers. Irregular shape screamed endless add-ons, pure chaos growth.

Port city had a slum "new town" outside walls, but not this chaotic. Port shoved excess chaos outward; Tarstira swallowed it whole.

Non-chaos parts were the minority.

"Alright, let's head in."

"Yes."

Wondered if the gate took early birds; lucky—entry processing just starting.

"Morning, folks. ID or something?"

The scaled-mail guard with sword prompted; showed Monster Hunter Guild card. Sarsa flashed hers chest-level.

"Hunters, huh. Through you go. 30 coppers each."

Smooth pass. But toll applied.

Not like Cross Point; Tarstira charged.

Capital thing, maybe.

Through the gate—another straight ahead. More on sides. Maze city...

Pre-researched guild location... Sarsa, you're up.

"I'm bad at directions too..."

"Same."

We got lost a couple times but hit the guild district.

Shoddy gates mostly open; no tolls inside.

Just the main entrance, apparently.

Sword piercing a comical monster. Familiar mark—no, downright routine now.

Lost track of time wandering; midday by arrival. Guild open, naturally.

"Welcome~"

By far the biggest guild building yet. Central round counter like Saasutira's first one. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Vast empty space around.

Money poured in, obvious.

And the receptionist... a stunning woman in her prime... with rabbit ears!

Like straight out of a story... guild receptionist dream!

Zawa... zawa...

"...Welcome~?"

"Master, you okay?"

"Y-yeah, sorry, sleep-deprived daze. Need info on dangerous monsters around here."

"Free stuff?"

"Nah, paid's fine. Once had someone compile a report—can you do that?"

"Sure can~. Guild card, please. When do you want it?"

"Tomorrow, day after if sooner."

"Got it~ Tomorrow works."

"Oh, and training ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠schedules, mock battle formats—though not today."

"Trainings galore~. I'll compile those too. Mock battles: not just staff—other guildies sometimes run 'em. Here's how to check~"

Pointed to a board with listings. Gotcha.

"Also, personal request: scout tech lessons or learning support?"

"Yup~. Same as mocks. No good fits? Post your own request. Paid, though~"

"Nice."

Hub of people meant services aplenty. Gonna milk it.

"Just the compile for now—wanna crash. Recs for inns?"

"No faves, but close by: left four doors, decent spot~"

"Thanks."

Blissed out by bunny-ear babe; day's end.

Grabbed soup, skewers from stalls en route, checked into first decent inn.

Skipped the too-close one. Sorry, beauty.

Devoured haul in room; sleepiness peaked—bed dive. Nighty.

Woke to sunset glow through window. Slept till evening.

Sarsa face-planted beside me.

Started side-by-side; she woke once, crashed again. Sleep as you like.

Luggage pile rustled; Don shoved junk aside, emerged.

Stretched with a gugu, yawned "Giii!".

Morning.

"Kyu."

Still wobbly, rummaged pack, deftly opened pocket for dried grapes.

Timing perfect; gave him water in dish, sliced dried meat too.

Don sniffed, chomped meat. Munched half, nudged rest away.

No more.

Don eats meat. Sparingly, or skips. Offer, take what he wants.

No complaints if skipped—low maintenance.

Sarsa babies him when up. I ignore or spectate. Girl + critter = unbeatable. Won't ruin it!

Done watching chow-down, no tasks—weapon maintenance.

Finished, flopped on bed, dozed.

Oh, status check now.

Status~ open!

Interferer leveled up!

Okay, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠drop the weird hype.

Calmly: minimal changes. Sarsa?

Steady level-up. No new skill at 10—norm is skill at 10, but her early "Far Sight" probably from that.

Celeb the double digits.

Apprentice tier for squads, but...

"Gii~"

Grabbed the fluffy passerby with both hands, Don too while at it.

If memory serves, MP grew sneaky-like.

Never seen his drop, but he uses skills...?

"Danger Sense" freebie? Handy if so.

His scouting skills save our asses big time.

Daytime, only pings real threats—perfect insurance.

Saw non-pros scout on squad missions for safety.

Know I should, can't yet.

If guild has scout classes, sign up.

Hope it pans out.

No going out vibe; fiddled water orbs indoors for magic control drills.

"Nnh... good morning?"

Sarsa stirred eventually.

"Morning. Dinner time soon—what's up? Hungry?"

"Nn—yeah. Fine, I can eat."

Straight sleep post-lunch, but appetite good. Impressive.

"Oh. That horse meat from last night."

"Ah... right. Gone bad?"

Sarsa deflated.

"Dunno... try offloading somewhere."

Waited full wake-up, armored just in case, headed out.

No helmet—job-check bait.

No inn cafe; cheap izakaya nearby, asked to cook meat.

"This? Eh, rough shape. Mince and fry it up?"

Plump waitress grimaced but agreed.

Decent fee—like ordering a dish. Better than toss.

Waited; out came meatball-patty thing.

Wild croquette?

Flaky bite, sweet-savory seasoning. No gamey aftertaste.

"Not bad."

"Yes. Delicious."

"Gii gii."

Don eyeing it rare. Help yourself.

"Gii kyu."

Meh reaction. Yeah, average joe.

Added veggie stir-fry, ate up.

Back to inn, vegged.

Sarsa's girl days started—blue balls.

But horny-ish.

"Sarsa, tits only?"

"Eh?... Sure."

Post-wash ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of daily wear/under-armor, she shrugged over resignedly.

Let's.

Over clothes first... meh, too tame.

Slipped hand in, shifted bra, groped bare.

Suction-soft, sweaty-slick skin... squishy tips firming up under play.

Dream handfeel~.

"Um, how long?"

Sarsa, sat prim on bed, puzzled.

Whoops—zoned out, major time sunk mindlessly enjoying...

"Nah, done. Thanks."

"Okay."

Reluctant withdraw.

Sometimes this chill ero hits right. Slow life?

"Getting hot water."

Sarsa grabbed wash bucket, headed out.

For human bath this time.

Right—next, watch half-nude soak. More chill ero.