Encounter
Encounter
"What?! Run?!"
Running. Or desertion. Fleeing to protect oneself from a threat.
And those were precisely the words the guild receptionist had just spat at Yekaterina and the rest of the party. Which was why Yekaterina had raised her voice so loudly.
By some stroke of luck in the midst of misfortune, aside from a single attack, what greeted us upon our safe arrival at the gate city was an utterly unpleasant situation and unjust treatment.
The female receptionist, whose impression looked as if it had been crafted by caking on layer after layer of prickliness, continued speaking in an extremely businesslike manner.
"That is correct. The three of you, led by Gaendal, are subject to charges of desertion during a quest..."
"Haah, it seems the ones who arrived first pulled a fast one on people and took off with the reward, but we explained the situation to them and went on a separate pursuit. We even killed the mercenary band that caused the whole incident and rescued the villagers, and you're just slapping us with punishment out of nowhere?"
The fact that they maintained their composure even after being unilaterally notified of such an utterly unjust assessment was likely because they were people of upright character and common sense. If they were typical adventurers, it wouldn't have been strange at all if they'd immediately smashed something to start things off.
I definitely wasn't thinking that way just because I'd flipped tables first when I went through something similar in the capital.
"...The adventurers who returned to the city first already concluded their deliberations with the guild and received their reward, closing out the request. Nothing will change unless you can submit detailed circumstances and evidence."
In contrast, the receptionist was so frosty that she furrowed her brow at them for cutting in and interrupting her in this situation. She looked buried under a mountain of backlogged work, but it wasn't exactly a good way to handle things.
"And to submit those circumstances and that evidence, haven't we been asking to see the Guild Master for a while now? Even just the victims over there—to protect them, we need to meet the Guild Master, who's the guild's representative who posted the request, and the Raviel bureaucrat who commissioned it. These are victims connected to the request. Are you saying you're just going to leave these people abandoned like this?"
Nevertheless, Gaendal explained calmly. But the answer that came back was anything but kind.
"Currently, the Guild Master is busy with other matters..."
The same answer repeated like a parrot. In the end, this was an official request posted by the guild—what business could possibly be busier than handling the fallout? This wasn't even the capital. Even as a polite excuse, if a problem like this arose, the right thing to do was to push aside other work and come running to check on it.
At that attitude, Gaendal was about to let out a sigh, Yekaterina and Rellie wore expressions of sheer disbelief, and Gin let out a troubled "heh heh" laugh. The refugees began growing uneasy at the commotion, and Asilie simply stared at the receptionist with a look that was anything but pleased.
And I kicked the reception desk flat.
-CRASH!
With a deliberate kick, what used to be the reception desk scattered in all directions.
"Aaah?!"
"Jesus fucking Christ. You really love going in circles. Did you collude with those mercenary bastards or what?"
It's common sense that the people of the world possess as many different personalities as there are people. And you have to deal with those various personalities in various matching ways to save time and effort in drawing out the conclusion you want.
The answer here was an intelligent thug.
I felt the eyes of everyone in the lobby focus on me, startled by my sudden action. And in the midst of it, the receptionist, alone in her righteous fury, screamed at the top of her lungs.
"W-What is the meaning of this?! I'll call the guards this instant!"
"Guards? Guards?! Call 'em! Let's just call every single one of them and let the whole world know that the Adventurer's Guild rips off adventurers and then washes their hands of it! Guard sir!! Over here! The guild here treats adventurers like absolute dog shit! Is this a country or what?!"
The vast majority of adventurers don't hold a nationality.
Every country has borders, and an ordinary citizen with no ties can't cross those borders freely. Sure, those who only operate in one country don't bother renouncing their nationality, like Sheryl and me, but true adventurers who wander the whole world renounce their nationality entirely.
But once that happens, countries that prioritize their own citizens are full of cases where adventurers with no backing get used and discarded however the locals please. That's real fantasy life for you, isn't it?
Since the world is so overflowing with chaos and destruction that the useful labor force known as adventurers must not be catastrophically reduced by such senseless bastards, the continent gathered as one and proposed a mediation plan—thus the Adventurer Protection Law came to be.
"Negligence in request management and inadequate follow-up! The utterly atrocious act of making up the guild's financial losses suffered at the hands of specific adventurers by unjustly passing them onto other innocent people! And on top of that, a slow response even after we resolved the root of the incident! I'm even starting to suspect you had a hand in the illegal slave trade, selling information to those mercenary bastards! You really think adventurers are the easiest targets? Fine, let's do this by the law! Bring in the circuit judge! Now!"
The free guide booklet handed out when you first register as an adventurer—printed on expensive paper, no less—is one of those unfortunate things people tell themselves they'll read later, even though it contains instructions, only to lose it or never read it at all.
But honestly, it contains content so important that I wonder if they shouldn't implement a simple quiz slip based on the booklet. Like the legal rights and protections I'd just shouted about.
"L-Listen here! Such absurd nonsense, carelessly..."
"Absurd? Why are you the one judging that? From now on, judgment will be made by the national law of Itisel and the Continental Unified Adventurer Protection Convention! Why are you still here? I said call the guards!!"
I'd heard that there are cases where adventurers are dismissed as ignorant, some even too unlearned to read, and thus unable to earn a living doing anything but adventurer work. But I never imagined it would happen in the city closest to the capital.
People of that ignorant profession would never forget for the rest of their lives what happens when you go by the law. I made eye contact with Gaendal, who was watching me with a dumbfounded expression, and gave him a light wink; he let out a scoff of disbelief and quietly stepped back, leaving the situation to me.
"What's all that racket?"
"The receptionist was doing illegal business?"
"The guild ripped off adventurers, I heard?"
Isn't the advantage of a loudmouth the ability to start off with one-sided slander? Even if it's a problem where you don't know if it's true or not—a case of unreasonable treatment targeting adventurers, no less, not some ordinary issue—people naturally can't help but be concerned when it happens right where the involved parties are gathered.
Only then did the other receptionists nearby, grasping the situation, approach me in a fluster.
"If you keep causing a disturbance with those absurd false accusations, we'll have you for business obstruction..."
"I said call the guard force! And the judge with them!"
"Aaagh!"
Asilie's words might really be true. It was a level of dragging incidents and accidents around all day long.
In the end, my legitimate shouting only reached a lull after the Guild Master showed his face, along with the earnest requests of the receptionists.
"Wh-What in the world is all this commotion? Let's talk this out, with words."
His plump, well-fleshed body was a real contrast to the capital's Guild Master. The fact that he didn't come in asserting authority or taking a bold stance but approached with a strangely deferential attitude made me suspect he lived a life closer to violence than law.
"You say that in a very amusing way, Guild Master. I've been talking this whole time."
"B-But the reception desk..."
"That just shattered from a little kick in a moment of anger. We'd only been using words before that, and after that too, see?"
The act of shattering a solid-wood reception desk with a single kick was a performance with more than enough merit to make a person's blood run cold. When I spoke with a slouched posture like a textbook thug, the Guild Master's eyes began to shake uncontrollably, and as it became clear this wouldn't end as a simple disturbance with the Guild Master himself appearing, more and more people gathered to spectate.
"What the... f-fuck. Why's the Mad Dog here?"
"What? That guy? That guy's the capital's mad dog?"
But then, unexpected supporting fire began.
"That crazy bastard doesn't bite unless he's got a reason, though."
"Whoa, so the guild really did rip off adventurers?"
"Then what they said earlier about the illegal slave trade and all...?"
This was why a man had to live diligently and consistently. To think people who knew my notoriety in the capital area would appear after barely over a year of activity. As the muttering spread into a murmur, the Guild Master, grasping the situation, trembled nervously and cautiously extended a hand to lead me away.
"L-Look, never mind the reception desk. Let's go upstairs and you can explain what the matter is..."
That action was suspicious for no good reason. Had this guy intentionally ignored us because he had something he was guilty about? And even when this could be sufficiently settled right here, he insisted on going upstairs to talk?
Naturally, I wasn't about to play along with that kind of trick. This was my front yard right now—was I crazy enough to crawl straight into enemy territory?
"No, Gaendal and his party. Huh? For the guild's request and the kingdom's honor, they burned the midnight oil searching and searching for the nearby refugee village and executed those utterly atrocious mercenary bastards who were trying to kill innocent kingdom citizens and sell them off as slaves, didn't they? And not stopping there, they personally escorted the victims, who are full of pitiful stories, to ensure their safety, and when they arrived in the city, what the fuck, for heaven's sake? They're suffering the disgrace of being processed as deserters during a quest! Unless the kingdom's law is running backwards and the world's justice has faded, how does this make any sense?!"
As I dodged the hand trying to quietly lead me away with exaggerated gestures, raising my voice, the surrounding noise died down and people began focusing on my words.
"Those cowards ran after seeing the carnage caused in the village by a mercenary band over forty strong! The real cowards who'd fled saying it was outside the request's scope and that they'd report it to the city! Not only did they sully Gaendal and his party's honor, they even ran off with the reward—and even after the whole thing was calmly explained to her with generosity as vast as the sea! That receptionist over there, you know? She kept treating them like fugitives, saying the decision had already been made and all that. How can anyone stand this? Isn't that right, Guild Master?"
“Oh, sir, please. Just come inside...”
Now he was calling someone barely half his age “sir.” What a world. Honestly, wherever you went, people were all the same.
"Is this something to go inside and talk about?! What do you have to hide that you want to go inside?! Only those who can't hold their heads high hide and talk!"
But I was Eldmia, the thrifty man who knew how to exploit even that.
As the gathered gazes turned toward the Guild Master, laden with distrust, cold sweat like meat broth poured down his deathly pale face.
Yeah, this was good. Already been pushed around by incidents and accidents all day—might as well ride this all the way to the end.