This Is Adventurer Party Life: Hope Edition

"Behold the storm of blue lightning!"

Lemon Hyacinth dramatically drew his pistol sword with both hands. It was a weapon shaped like a handgun, with a blade attached near the muzzle. As he unleashed a barrage of bullets, monsters screamed and collapsed one after another.

Even as they descended the floors, the ecosystem didn't change drastically. But you could definitely feel the enemies getting stronger. By the 20th floor, there were hobgoblins that could block or dodge the bullets.

A hobgoblin charging through the gunfire swung its bone blade, but Hyacinth kicked it squarely in the chest, shoving it back. As he leaped forward and fired, the pistol sword spun like a discus and sliced off the hobgoblin's head. Then, like a boomerang, it flew back, and he caught it on his finger hooked into the barrel, spinning it stylishly over his hand.

"Heh... this is my true—gack!"

He was grinning smugly when a yak's horn from the Magic Palace sent him flying. Why there was even a yak in the dungeon was a mystery... but its meat fetched a good price.

"He fights so flashily."

"It's a waste of stamina. Why bother with the showboating?"

Larirarion crushed the charging yak's skull by headbutting it right back, grumbling irritably. Adventurers had to conserve stamina, and the noisier the weapon, the more monsters it'd attract with the racket.

"Talking about Tyrannosaurus means this guy's only fought on plains. Narrow worldview."

"Sorry..."

She was right; tracking with his eyes was a bit slow. He boasted that his keen sense of smell could sniff out monsters, but in the Magic Palace, teeming with them everywhere, it didn't mean much. No sooner had they descended than his nose started aching, and by the 20th floor, his sense of smell had shut down completely.

"Phew... I thought I was gonna die..."

After the battle, Hyacinth scurried over and clung to me. ...I didn't mind a guy hugging me much. The fur around his neck was soft and fluffy; the texture wasn't bad.

At first, I wondered if he was gay since he kept shoving his face in, but there was a reason for it.

"You smell amazing, bro! Like the air's getting purified... kinda like a forest!"

"Beats me. But yeah, the air feels fresh."

Listening to them, I recalled similar reactions when I first joined the guild. Apparently, I purified the surrounding air and emitted a natural forest scent. It eased the nose, calmed the mind and body, and made people feel happy. Hyacinth's druggie analogies were a bit worrying, though. After fights, he'd cling because the smell was irresistible.

"It's that Canidie distance thing. Varies by breed... but for a wolf-ear to stick like that, other Canidies would be glued to you for life."

"......"

Larirarion said wolf-ears had strong pride and leadership, always wanting to take charge. For an upper breed like that, the ego was sky-high. He was young, sure, but if even they wagged their tails for my scent, other Canidies didn't stand a chance.

For now, we butchered the yak, rested up, and prepared to head down.

I examined the pistol sword Hyacinth was checking. No reloading in sight... and I had no idea how it worked.

"This? Sometimes I load real bullets, but usually I infuse mana and fire. For more power, like this."

He flipped the blade forward, revealing a chamber, and loaded a round metal slug. Then he channeled mana into it and boom—the shot packed extra punch. But normally, infusing mana directly or channeling it into the blade for swings was easier. Reloading every time was too fiddly.

"Slugs have limits anyway. Better to pump in lots of mana. Those shots of his wouldn't even scratch me. Needs quality ore, tsk tsk."

"It's expensive, sis..."

What could a D-rank earn? He drooped his ears, saying even maintenance costs were tight.

After that, we descended smoothly to the 40th floor. Hyacinth's fast, precise marksmanship and agile kicks. Larirarion's devastating blows and sturdy body shielding the party.

As for me, I supplied chicken fry and water anywhere, lit fires when needed, purified the dungeon air, perfectly retrieved dropped items, and served as bait ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠luring enemies with glow-in-the-dark dinosaurs.

I'm probably the most useless in this party.

"Oh, a rare small half-ogre. See it, Radamu?"

Only one head, just 3 meters tall—a weak ogre by their standards. Still, ogre tendons and hide sold for good money.

Hyacinth paled and shook his head furiously.

"No way! Even if I hit it, no scratch on that hide! It's an ogre!"

"Can't be helped then. Got a plan, Radamu?"

"Well... for something like that."

I unfolded a paper pouch, filled it with chicken fry, and tossed it near the ogre. Hyacinth watched wide-eyed, clueless.

The ogre sniffed the meat, grabbed the pouch, and shoved it in its mouth.

The pouch exploded in its mouth, making the ogre scream. A secondary blast ripped through its innards, blood spraying everywhere.

That's when Larirarion kicked off the ground, gripping her shovel with both hands and charging. I followed; Hyacinth yelled, "That's dangerous!"

"GRRAAAHH!!!"

The enraged ogre raised a massive bone club—probably made from local monsters—aiming at Larirarion.

Just before it swung down, I reached out. The ogre's thick hand grabbed mine.

"Grk?"

As it blinked in confusion, her shovel slashed across its neck. A small half-ogre's hide was no match for Larirarion's raw strength. It staggered headless, then crashed backward.

"Radamu, you okay? It grabbed your hand."

"I'm fine."

I slipped my hand free from its grip. What it held was a Metal Mimic (Chamber Pot) I'd summoned. Perfect for hand protection—I'd conjured it mid-handshake. Worst case, another Deadly Queen.

"Bro, you're amazing! A clever hunter! So cool, so cool...!"

Hyacinth clapped like a seal, showering praise. Then he drew a knife, eager to butcher his first ogre ever, grinning like a kid.

"You're pretty good at butchering, huh? Where'd you learn?"

"Mom taught me back in the village."

Casually, he packed the hide, tendons, and usable parts. The haul from one ogre was huge, so we headed up.

Hyacinth freaked out over the elevator—"What if it falls?!"—clinging to my shoulder. Larirarion snapped at him to quit panicking, but he trembled: "You never know!"

"With three in the party now, your byproducts really piled up. You'll rank up in no time~"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Thanks, Noksu."

"Oh, the demon friend I wanted to introduce is B-rank, so no go."

"Absolutely not!"

Larirarion yelled at Noksu—no way she'd let an A-rank near him. Noksu chided her for the commotion and lightly chopped her crown. Light touch, thunderous sound—Larirarion crumpled, legs buckling.

Hyacinth huddled behind me at the surreal sight. I wanted to hide too, but he was holding me; my feet didn't touch ground.

"Hehe, I was an A-rank adventurer. Don't be too shocked."

Retired due to an arrow in the knee, but still active. Larirarion muttered "crazy sheep bitch" and got shin-kicked.

"When you hit E-rank, I'll buy champagne to celebrate."

"...Wait, Noksu sis, didn't you have a boyfriend?"

"Oh? 'Sis'? What're you on about, hehe."

She was older than ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me, Larirarion pointed—crack, wrist twisted. Just thumb and index, yet Larirarion dangled, fireman's carry'd.

Hyacinth's silent scream: "Bro, let's run!" But you're holding me; put me down first.

"Ugh, she looks meek, but flip that switch and she headbutts first."

Larirarion, unscratched by monsters, returned with a lump, whining it hurt. She glomped me for comfort. I patted her back—"Tough day"—and glimpsed her ears burning red. Probably fake crying; just wanted the hug. Would've been simpler to ask.

"We sell at night. Chicken fry, booze, water, glow dinos."

"Glow dinos! Can I snag a few? For my sibs."

"Sure, sure. Oh, our party splits cash 1:1:1 exactly."

"Not hogging your share? Sis, you ain't married to Radamu bro?"

"It's wedding savings! Gotta save for kids."

"Aha!"

They bantered ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠like old pals. I silently packed chicken fry.

Hyacinth planned to save via guild remittances for Mom. Thought he had two dads; turns out single mom raised the kids.

"Hunting deaths are common."

Casual words, no smile. Tribal plains life... As eldest, he had to earn big. Showed fiery resolve to work hard.

Extra staff meant more sales. I made; they packed—one hand chicken fry, one booze/water. Hyacinth dreamed aloud: marry sis, pass chicken skill to kids, tribe never starves. My marrying your 4-year-old sis a done deal? Ask her opinion?

"But marrying you means leaving the tribe—no primae noctis crap."

Speechless. He hated that custom too.

True to word, he hustled: took cash, handed goods, washed challenge buckets, dried 'em, checked timers—grabbed glow dinos fast. Sales tripled that night. One eager worker boosted efficiency.

"900 SP a day...! Split three ways, 300 each! Plus byproducts, 680 SP..."

"Good haul?"

"Ten times normal, bro! Bullets, new gear! Meat for sibs! ...If no one steals it..."

Worried over-remitting might attract thieves. No dad, young sibs can't defend.

"Can't just leave tribe—need chief's okay, prove by soloing a strong foe."

"So guild for cash and strength."

Larirarion nodded—common story. Cultures vary, but upper breeds mixing tribes? Makes enemies.

"Yeah, Dad died over that."

"Mood got heavy."

Offered booze; "Not adult yet."

Goal: power-level, snag family, go independent.

"Gotta remit steadily."

Chief'd prevent theft. First meet was iffy, but now: clueless village boy joins ragtag human, desperate dwarf-chaser. All get along, no drama—solid party.

Party-join bash, and a Constellation Ticket dropped mid-feast. Hyacinth, surprisingly into raw meat, chowed sashimi. Larirarion called his tastes nuts, pounding strong booze and grilled meat. I went plain: spicy tomato salad.

Wonder what skill today? I tore the ticket expectantly.

Constellation [North■Dance]. Congrats.

"Oh, solid skill."

Test: forearm turned gray, rock-hard like stone. ...Better than bare skin. First useful one in ages; misty-eyed.

"Cheers! Drink up! Real men booze it up!!!"

"Bro, you into boozing girls?"

"Nah, not really."

"...."

Larirarion froze mid-rowdy song.

"But I like you, Larirarion."

She flushed crimson, sipping demurely, head down. Hyacinth elbow-nudged, whispering:

"Thought you were whipped, bro. It's the opposite."

"I am whipped."

"Huh?"

"First meet, she propositioned sex."

"Why hang with a girl like that?"

Hyacinth got hurled through the window at her. Our party's tight—thank goodness. Smooth day; hope tomorrow's the same.