Chapter 112
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 112
Chapter Title: Soul Promotion Battle
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I arrived at the Adventurer's Guild just before dawn, and as expected, it was deserted. There was no sign of the three-person party I was supposed to join.
"No one's here yet, huh."
This world's sense of time was the real problem. It didn't align precisely like in the modern world. Morning was just morning, lunch was just lunch—no clear boundaries.
There was a massive clock tower in the central square, but people living out of sight of it couldn't care less, and for most, it was just a useless landmark. Time here was so lax it felt like pure Korean time. I could practically feel the spirits of my ancestors—it put me in a pretty good mood.
Screeech.
I peeked inside the guild, wondering if they might be in there already, and called out the names I'd heard yesterday—Custo, Serka, and Roel. No response.
Was I just too early?
It was right before sunrise, so yeah, probably a bit.
I stepped back outside and leaned against the guild building wall, sliding down to sit.
Should I catch a quick nap? If I stick around here, they'll probably show up eventually.
The sunlight made me drowsy, so I closed my eyes. We'd burned the candle late last night, but Cloudy had been considerate, saying more might mess up my promotion quest. What a kind, sweet woman— we only went half our usual pace before sleeping.
And when I woke up, she kissed her husband goodbye on his way to work with a "Come back soon"—a full buff! Damn it! Blood rushing south!
I'd just dozed off for a moment—
"Hey, you."
"—Huh?"
A shadow fell over me. Someone stood in front of me, calling out. I rubbed my eyes and sat up. There was an orange-haired woman in martial arts robes.
"You're Katt, right?"
"Ah, yeah. That's me. Nice to meet you. I'm Katt, E-rank adventurer and swordsman, here for the joint quest. And you must be Custo, Serka, or Roel?"
I stretched my neck side to side as I replied.
It was an exaggeratedly polite greeting, laced with hypocrisy for the promotion quest.
Her robes and the knuckles on her hands marked her as a martial artist... Martial artist, huh. I had major beef with them. But I didn't remember any women among the jerks who'd kicked me back then, so probably fine.
Anyway, it was just an E-rank quest. Didn't matter if fist-fighter or whatever. Low-level monsters drop to punches anyway, like my taekwondo days. Weapons are more convenient, sure.
"...Sword-swinging bastard."
I'd been waiting for her name, but that's what came out.
Hm.
Calm down, Kim Katt. First meetings, she might just curse a bit.
It's no big deal. Friends curse all the time casually.
C-Calm down! Please!
It's a promotion quest! Martial artists look down on swordsmen sometimes! I get it! She's a young woman in her prime, sensitive—makes sense!
Promotion quest!!!! Calm down!!!!! You fucking idiot!!!!!
"So you're a fist-fighter, then?"
But her face, dripping with clear disgust, made my mouth move on its own despite my resolve. Years as an F-rank had honed my senses for malice.
Calling me a "sword-swinging bastard" out the gate, not even hiding her displeasure—this was blatant provocation. The classic martial artist beef with swordsmen. One of those bad social trends, alongside them not carrying weapons.
"What did you say?"
"Nah, just asking if you use fists. I'm a sword guy, see. Looks like you use two fists, so double-fist fighter? Throw in kicks, and you're a foot-fist fighter. Double-foot-double-fist? Fuck, that's a badass name. No need for some double-double bullshit."
"This sword-swinging bastard picking a fight with me...!"
"What fight? You pussy-fist bitch."
Having been in this world so long, I'd forgotten something obvious.
Promotion quests working properly? About as likely as the sun rising in the west.
A promotion quest was a brutal ritual where you had to win an extreme battle relying solely on your own power—even your allies turned into enemies from the start. Victory here was the only way to claim your rank-up reward.
Tougher than plucking stars from the sky.
"Wh-What?! P-Pussy?!"
Ah, maybe not the best word for a woman.
She recoiled at the crude language.
Anyway, I knew I was screwed.
This quest wasn't going smoothly, no doubt.
As the martial artist growled, a voice came from afar.
"Serka! What're you doing? Found the last guy? Let's go... Huh?"
Her name was Serka. The high-pitched voice belonged to a green-haired female mage. Mages—another annoying job...
"What's that barbarian? No way that's our party member."
Jesus.
Racist right off the bat.
You Kobson, you racist bitch.
"...Looks like it. Roel."
My jaw dropped.
Green-hair mage's name was Roel. Serka, Roel—definitely our quest party members. Screwed (x2).
Where five humans gather, there's always trash. Still holds true. But only three here, and already two showing fucker vibes? Not even full party yet?
"What? For real? You're kidding."
"No joke. This savage sword-swinging bastard's our party member."
"Then party with the barbarian?"
"Yeah."
I couldn't take their chat anymore.
"Goddamn, seriously. This is just funny now. Gramps and Granny, isn't the trash talk too much for first meeting? Dementia already?"
"What? Gramps? This bastard talking shit... Let's go!"
I snapped, cursing freely despite the quest, grinning wickedly as I rolled my eyes back.
Can't touch the mage, but martial artist? Fair game. Let's pit my taekwondo against your skills. I'll sword-mash you to pulp.
"Um, h-hey... N-No fighting... W-We gotta do the q-quest first, so let's head out..."
In the powder-keg moment,
A scrawny, pretty-faced blue-haired young priest appeared. Serka, who looked ready to punch me, went quiet at his arrival.
"Ah, Custo..."
"Serka... C-Calm down... A-Another provocation...? I t-told you not to target s-sword users like that..."
"..."
They knew each other. Atmosphere cooled with Custo's intervention... My blood still boiled, but Serka glared once more and turned away.
Custo gave me a friendly smile and offered a handshake.
"N-Nice to meet you... I'm Custo, j-junior priest of the Celestial Ascension Society..."
"Ah... Y-Yeah... N-Nice... to meet you. I'm E-rank adventurer Katt."
Tried mimicking his stutter for rapport, but it got boring midway—dropped it. Seemed polite enough, no big issue.
Celestial Ascension Society? Heard the name, but such a low-presence church I had no clue what they did.
After greeting me, he approached the scowling green-haired mage.
"A-And Roel... W-We already formed the party...? C-Canceling causes p-penalties... Right?"
"Tch... Fine."
All three knew each other.
Handled them smoothly—long-term fixed party? Whatever, Custo seemed super nice.
Or rather: a priest hanging with a racist and jobist. Weird combo.
"S-So, Katt... D-Don't take it personally... C-Could you be merciful...?"
"Tch, sure. Canceling a started quest brings penalties. Roel, Serka, right? I'll shut up, gather conpeito quietly. Just do your jobs. It's one-and-done anyway."
Most rational one mediated and politely asked, so I backed off.
Promotion quest after all. Fighting hurts me only. Infuriating, but swallow pride here.
"What? You ordering me around?"
"Not ordering, Roel. And no tuteoing."
"Unbelievable. Serka, we gotta drag this along? That black thing's creepy. Smells too. Magically ominous. Let's disband and redo. What's their penalty worth?"
This fucking bitch.
Seeing her bail despite promotion quest made steam rise from my head.
Please, someone save me. Can't even hit back. Fuck, against a mage, trash like me's helpless...! E-rank, so I'd win a punch-up, but touching a mage ain't simple.
Mages, bound by sticky elite solidarity, hate stains on their name. Vindictive little shits, worse than martial artists.
Moment I hit her, every nearby mage carpet-bombs me, genre irrelevant. I'd explode, erased like I never existed, dust in the sewer.
All mages were like that: shitty, insidious, violent, self-righteous monsters! That's why I feared city mages!
"Roel... S-Stop, I said... Why recruit one more if you're gonna... b-bitch about fit...? I-I hate that..."
"B-But that one's..."
"Th-That's... n-not a b-barbarian..."
"...Fine."
As I groaned inwardly, Custo calmed Roel again.
That's why he's party leader.
Sweating buckets, Custo smiled at me and gestured—出发 signal. Serka brushed past, glaring.
Truly inexplicable.
Hey, first time seeing me today?
Why the hell?
"S-Sorry... Th-Those kids have bad... p-personalities..."
"...Fuck. Yeah. Fine."
Anyway, quest started, so we moved. But Roel and Serka walked twenty paces ahead together, me and Custo behind—weird formation.
"That mage knows the way, right?"
"Y-Yes... Sh-She's navigating..."
"Got it. How long's the trip?"
"A-Abouthalf a day... sh-short of that, I h-heard..."
Half-day there, half back—12 hours travel. Under half, so maybe 10 max.
Big trouble.
Fucked, plain and simple. Means overnight or night march likely. Party mood says no smooth sailing.
I prayed.
Please, gather conpeito incident-free and go home. Fine. Swallow pride now, Kim Katt. You can do it. Promotion quest. Fail, disappoint Cloudy.
Despise me as swordsman, discriminate as barbarian—I'll endure. Lost it earlier from shock, but Custo beside me'll rein them in.
Trust him. He's a priest, after all.
And so we trudged endlessly toward the conpeito spot. But after an hour, the mage flipped out. Mages and their bullshit.
My motto, ever righteous.