Chapter 13
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 013
Chapter Title: Which Big Sisters Do You Like? #1
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The Thieves' Guild that wouldn't open the bathroom door.
Such utterly heinous criminals shouldn't be tolerated.
I refuse to live under the same sky as those bastards—!
So I went looking for Hammer, who was passed out snoring from all the booze.
"Hammer, do you know the Thieves' Guild hideout? Could you mark it on this map for me?"
"Uh.... Number three... manhole cover...."
Perfect.
Right near the training ground.
Not far at all.
I changed clothes and headed to the training ground.
The sewer cover marked with a 「3」.
Creak—.
Prying it open revealed a ladder leading down into a stench-filled underground passage.
Splash—!
The sewer was pitch-black, like trudging through the mouth of a massive serpent, but thanks to the 「Black Eye」 from Ashibar, I could navigate it fairly well.
You know how cranking up the monitor's gamma makes even invisible stuff pop?
That's exactly how it felt right now.
After walking for a good while, a fairly spacious open area came into view.
Several people were perched on crates or crumbled stone pillars, striking dramatic poses.
They gave off total vibes like a villain organization straight out of a comic.
Illusion Brigade? Akatsuki?
Whatever. These guys were my enemies.
"Who's the bastard who locked our unit's bathroom door?"
I'm usually polite to people.
First impressions matter, after all.
But no need to play nice with mutts like these.
As I threw out the threat, a few shadows lurking in the darkness stepped forward.
Some with hoods pulled low.
Others with face masks that screamed, "Yeah, I'm a criminal—."
But there were a few who put their faces and figures on full display.
"Me?"
Her skin was translucent like moonlight, and her chest was generous.
Long hair tied back for mobility.
She wore skintight leather with the chest zipper pulled low—major cleavage vibes.
"Why the hell would you do something so awful? You nearly trampled my dignity!"
For some reason, polite speech slipped out.
Damn! Big-chested women always turn me into a gentleman.
Gotta break this habit soon.
The woman soon introduced herself.
"I'm Germain, leader of the Thieves' Guild Wall Branch."
Whoosh—!
The words barely left her mouth before she leaped like a cat, landing lightly beside me.
Not a sound from her footsteps.
< b>'This one's the real deal.'
Might even match Felix. At least level 15.
My hand went for my dagger, but my belt was empty.
My dagger was spinning in Germain's hand.
"Didn't expect you to bypass the traps and fake paths to get straight here. Impressive. So the rumors about you pickling that one-eyed freak are true."
Traps? Fake paths?
Were there even any?
More importantly, pickling the one-eyed guy.
The dude's probably swimming free in college as seafood by now.
"That wasn't me."
"Psh, no need for humility in this line of work! We know exactly how much of a pain that raccoon bastard was. Right?"
"Annoying prick. Wanted to pickle him myself—such a shame."
"Turning that one-eyed guy into fermented seafood. How'd you pull it off?"
"You can tell just by looking. Kid's got potential shining gold—not just yellow!"
No clue what they meant, but the vibe was like they were all praising me, which tickled my nose.
I rubbed it, and Germain slyly asked,
"You like money?"
"Who doesn't like money?"
"Good, no need to check further. You're in!"
Germain handed back my dagger.
Holding it by the blade, offering the hilt—such thoughtfulness was rare among thieves. Touching, really.
"Let's cut to the chase. Wanna go into business with us?"
"Business? What kind?"
"We sell Ether to the empire's rich. For cash."
"No level-ups?"
"We're not combat classes—leveling's inefficient for us."
Germain shrugged.
"Get just enough gear to not die. Minimal investment."
"...That's allowed?"
"Sure. Turn everything into gold and prep for retirement. Life on the Wall's short, but in the empire? Long haul."
Cash out Ether instead of gear or levels—.
Felt oddly relatable.
The people around me started feeling familiar, somehow.
Strangers, but like longtime neighborhood bros and big sis.
Slosh—.
Germain leaned in close and whispered,
"What do you say—wanna work with us? Not a bad deal. Our Thieves' Guild even does custom sales on thief gear and tools for members."
Seemed solid all around.
Hammer had been nagging me to gear up anyway.
Gear upgrades are the flower of hunting—the basics.
Thieves' Guild handling good thief gear?
Made sense.
< b>'But deals like this? Better think long and hard.'
Too good often leaves a bad aftertaste.
All upside for me.
What's the catch? The risks I gotta eat?
Germain's brows furrowed.
"...But Yor, you've survived the back alleys this long with that 'habit' of yours? Weird you haven't gotten flattened yet."
"Habit?"
"What, you didn't know? Trust your big sis—try just one thing. Carry this beer mug around for exactly one day."
Glug-glug-glug—.
She handed me a mug filled to the brim, nearly spilling.
"But not a single drop."
"Why should I?"
"Won't do it on faith alone? Fine, advance payment."
Germain grabbed my arm.
Then planted a smooch—mwah—on my cheek.
"Wha-wha—."
"How's that? Fee enough?"
She smelled faintly of oil.
Iron and tense sweat too.
But it thrilled me more than that noble lady's perfume I'd sniffed once.
The thieves burst out laughing at me.
"Whoa, looks like the kid caught Germain's eye. Whimsical Germain thinking of taking a disciple for once."
"Kid, ask to touch her boobs. She might let you!"
"Pffft! Fingers get chopped—like mine!"
Everyone was hyped.
Made me kinda embarrassed.
But this vibe? Kinda familiar.
Hated to admit it, but being here felt comfy.
The Ether-to-cash pitch piqued my interest too.
And Germain sis? Maybe not so bad.
Even if she did lock the bathroom.
Probably had her reasons.
"But what if I fail this weird training?"
"Then you miss out."
Miss out on what, exactly?
Our party had filled the quota, so our schedule had some slack.
Meaning, take a day off.
"Ugh, my head. How much did I drink yesterday? Hey, Yor—what's with the beer mug?"
"Whoa, Hammer—stay back!"
I couldn't properly rest, too busy keeping the beer from spilling.
Dodging approaching people and variables, and when eating? Focused so hard on the mug I barely knew where the food went.
Felt like my brain was splitting in two.
Wait, aren't there two brains anyway?
Whatever. Felt scammed in every way.
But with that sliver of hope, I stuck to the beer mug training diligently.
One hour, two hours.
The longer I held it, the steadier my arm felt—no more trembling.
The waves that sloshed like they might spill any second grew calmer and calmer.
"Wah!"
Even when Hermit popped out of nowhere to scare me, I didn't flinch.
"What, no jump?"
"Your pointy hat was visible from afar."
"Tch, no fun. So what kinda training is this?"
"No idea."
"...What?"
And just like that, evening rolled around.
While handling business in the bathroom, I felt a chill creeping toward my waist.
I snapped my hand out—tak—and caught Germain grinning as she gripped my wrist.
"Well, well—not falling for it so easy this time? And not a drop spilled."
"Ooh, what was that? Felt like I had eyes on my back!"
"Nah. You were so fixated on your surroundings your focus was all scattered. Just a quick training fix for that."
"Focus?"
Got told I was scatterbrained plenty.
Ran around desks in school, got scolded by teachers.
"It's training to stay centered on yourself while sensitively detecting external changes. Essential skill for thieving in chaotic back alleys and the Night Land. Practice on the side."
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Then let's jump into real combat training. Ezekiel the captain's coming to meet your unit soon, right? Snag one of her buttons. Do that, and I'll fix your bigger bad habit."
"I got a bigger one?"
"Weak to women."
Germain yanked down her leather jacket's zipper—zzzzip.
Eyes locked on instantly. My mug sloshed—splash.
"See?"
"Eek! How the hell do you fix that?"
"Easy. The method's—."
.....
....
...
"Yor, is there something wrong with my clothes?"
Ezekiel the captain's voice jolted me awake.
Maybe because of Germain sis's offer yesterday, I kept staring at her clothes and buttons.
She narrowed her eyes at me.
"For a rookie to ignore my words? A bit insolent."
"How could I ignore you, Captain Ezekiel? I heard everything."
"Oh? Then what did I just say?"
"Obviously. You came to praise my performance and treat me to a nice lunch."
"Surprisingly good memory."
Germain's special training really worked.
Made my focus way more efficient.
Could daydream and still pick up on outside changes easy.
Problem was, snagging a button off airtight Captain Ezekiel.
Even plotting with full focus? No clear path.
"Yor, do you want one of my buttons?"
"Huh?"
"Here."
Whoa—!?
No way luck this good exists!