Beyond the Tutorial

Working commissions with Noah was fun — and new.

I realized my assumption that this would all feel just like a game had been wrong.

The advantages of party play were undeniable. Taking turns and matching each other's rhythm left plenty of room to conserve stamina. Fighting the Kakari had left me gasping, so exhausted I thought I might die — but climbing the ladder slowly with Noah, starting from Pienos, left my body fine and only my mind worn out.

And mental exhaustion… well, of course. Tutorial monsters just weren't fun.

That didn't mean I was holding back. Even if my opponent were an elementary schooler, I was the kind of person who went all out. That applied to monsters too.

And I was starting to understand the real flavor of commission work. You hunted small monsters, harvested meat, surveyed the surroundings to check for Anomalies around Antico, gathered every kind of material you could find and turned it all in. Hunting wasn't the only thing a hunter did. Watching Noah work so diligently beside me drove that home all over again.

I wanted nothing more than to mindlessly hunt monsters — but a hunter couldn't live like that.

And that wasn't all I'd learned. How to secure a safe zone with scents monsters hated. How to build a good base of operations. Which wild plants and creatures were edible, and how to cook them. Plus a whole grab bag of useful tips for party work.

Noah really was a veteran. Five years as a hunter meant she knew a lot.

Even now we were mid-commission, and I was still learning from her. In the dark of night, our voices carried across the campsite.

"Noah, what's the strongest monster you've ever taken down?"

"Me?"

I was curious about the career of someone who'd spent five years as a hunter. How far had Noah gone?

Compared to her, I was still a sprout. Setting aside the little wild monsters, the big ones I'd actually taken down numbered about five.

"I guess… up to Machitios?"

Machitios. A monster that used its forelegs like fists and fired shockwaves from the vibration organs in its hands. If a Luga-lac was an infighter that stuck to you, this one felt more like an out-boxer that kept its distance.

That made it a pretty tough monster. Or… maybe in this world it was considered manageable?

This was a world where you only got one life. Personally, I figured a Luga-lac charging in ready to die with you was harder than a Machitios. An enemy that valued its own life was better than one willing to take you down with it.

"What was Machitios like?"

"Hmm… It's a high-tier monster, right? Every time it slammed its fists into the ground, it was like an earthquake — rocks flying everywhere. Looked cool, honestly. I almost died dodging the stones, though."

"Hmm."

Crackling softly, the campfire burned. The flames flickered in Noah's dark eyes as she watched it.

"Machitios was really scary too. I'm a coward, so taking on challenges like that frightens me."

"You're scared?"

"Yeah. Monsters don't forgive mistakes. What if I drop my shield, or fail to dodge an attack, and die because of one slip-up?"

Noah's voice was weak.

"I've seen plenty of people die for real. Even Master-rank hunters — one mistake and they're gone just like that. Compared to monsters, humans are incredibly fragile."

"True."

Nothing Noah said was wrong. Even a veteran like me would be finished if I took a single monster ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hit the wrong way. Human strength might be far greater here than in my old world, but it still couldn't compare to a monster.

Monsters were monsters, after all — forces of nature beyond human reach.

This world had no levels, no stats. The only power that could protect my body was my own experience, knowledge, and skill.

As Noah said, sometimes it was frightening. What if something like the Kakari appeared — an enemy that threatened me with patterns I didn't know? What would happen to me then? Could I still move with the same confidence I had now?

I had to hone everything I had so I could take down even monsters like that with ease. This commission was another lesson toward that end.

Party time with Noah.

…But it was boring. So, so boring.

All we did was hunt small herbivores like Mudridons, monkeys a bit weaker than Pienos, Takabibis, or nameless boars that were just big. What I wanted to see were real monsters — huge, imposing ones.

Why ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was I going backwards in difficulty after killing a Kakari?

"…Noah."

"Yeah?"

"For the next commission… can we go after something a little stronger?"

How many times had I asked this now? Noah always said no — but I wanted to climb higher. Call it a hunter's instinct.

I watched her carefully. Noah was looking at me with sharp eyes. Still too much, she was thinking, right?

I was about to say it was fine, never mind — when Noah spoke first.

"Alright. For someone like you, Alice… Honestly, we've been at this long enough."

"Right?"

Noah said it as if she was impressed I'd stuck it out this long. Did she even know how obediently I'd been following her lead? I shrugged. Noah chuckled and came closer, then planted both hands on my cheeks and pulled.

"You thought this was your chance, didn't you? Didn't you?"

"Nnh-ah—"

"Don't give me that. You've asked every single day."

Noah's voice was still sulky, but she wasn't saying no. The fact that the tutorial was finally over made me so happy I couldn't help it. The sting of Noah pinching my cheeks barely registered next to the joy of being released from beginner-quest hell.

"But try it on your own."

"On my own?"

"Yeah. Not actually solo — I mean team up with other people for once. I'll take commissions on my own for a while too."

"Mmm… okay."

"You don't look very disappointed."

"I am disappointed."

"Heh. It's fine. We can't do every commission together forever anyway."

Noah said it almost under her breath, but there was warmth in it. I liked that consideration of hers. Noah really was a good friend.

I didn't want to stay stuck under her wing forever either. It was time to step out of the shade. Separately, the thought of Noah not being there was a little sad — but commissions weren't the whole of our connection. Once a job was done, we could always meet again. As long as we were both still alive.

My last commission with Noah was nothing special. Hunt a Maiyal living in the wetlands. A Maiyal was just a pig. The client was a cook who needed Maiyal meat, or something like that.

The pay wasn't much — but knowing this was the end made even turning in the meat feel joyful.

"Your rank has gone up quite a bit already."

The attendant's words made my nose tilt a little higher. Small monsters didn't get recorded on a hunter card. The large ones I'd taken down with Noah came to three total: Pienos, Kuchiorak, and Poloari. All beginner prey — nothing that really registered.

What would soothe my boredom was a fight thick with tension.

After finishing the commission, we headed straight back to the lodging. We were soaked in sweat. I showered right away and lounged around the house at my leisure. After camping out, a soft bed felt like heaven.

The next day, Noah and I went our separate ways for the first time. I'd been the first one up that morning, and Noah was still loafing in bed even after I'd washed my face and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠come out. In a thoroughly cracked voice she said, "See you later," and saw me off. She was naturally that laid-back — she'd only been working hard recently because of me.

I carefully closed the door so she could sleep a little longer and headed out.

There wasn't much to do before taking a commission. First stop: Matillo, for gear repairs. I'd considered trying weapons other than the greatsword, but my hands were still most comfortable with it, so I dropped the idea.

"Done playing house, are you?"

By "playing house," Matillo meant the education disguised as Noah's commissions. He had a fiery temperament — a passionate man who loved a challenge — so he wanted me climbing higher right away. When he'd heard Noah's plan and asked what I was going after, the look of pure disgust on his face had been something else.

Noah and Matillo really were oil and water.

"Why?"

"Because that hunter girl isn't with you."

"Mmm. We decided to take separate commissions today. I'm going after something higher than a Kakari."

"Oho. So you're finally getting started. Good. Bring me quality materials and I'll make you something just as good. I'd love to craft with Kakari materials, but what you've got isn't enough yet. Take down at least two more."

Matillo handed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the greatsword back.

"…Kakari materials are fine as they are."

"Oho. Then what are you planning to hunt?"

"Ekriki."

"…Ekriki? You've got some nerve. Already going for an Ekriki."

Matillo made a fuss unlike him. Of course he had reason to. If the Kakari was a low-grade monster — the gate before mid-grade — then the Ekriki was a true mid-grade monster.

It didn't spit some half-baked breath like a Kakari. It fired a proper one. That alone changed the danger level completely.

Mid-grade was practically the standard of the hunter world — countless monsters, and high risk to match. When a mid-grade monster was spotted nearby, a subjugation commission usually went out immediately. The monster might not have done anything yet, but its mere existence was a threat to humans.

An easy example was the battle-crazed Luga-lac. Spot one and you could request a subjugation commission on the spot — that was how dangerous it was to people. The Ekriki was the same.

The powder-hide dragon Ekriki was a theropod that looked like it wore a fur scarf around its neck. Powder came from that neck fur, and the thing used it to set off dust explosions. A real pain of an enemy — but I had a reason for targeting it first.

When I made a new weapon, I planned to craft it from Ekriki materials. Ekriki weapons carried the creature's dust-explosion ability straight into the blade, letting you trigger blasts that dealt serious damage even to monsters. I remembered using them to good effect early in the game's story too.

The question was whether an Ekriki subjugation commission even existed. Well… there should be one. It wasn't as if Antico was overflowing with lazy hunters. Surely no one had already taken it, right?

"Oh my. The current Ekriki commission has already been accepted by someone else."

"…"

There was a time when I, too, believed such things.

Had I already buttoned the first button wrong…?

Noah-emon, help me!