Chapter 7
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: First Request
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The first thing I had to do was clear as day.
Adventurer's Guild.
I needed to get my adventurer's certification there.
If I went around saying I was from the slums, I'd be lucky not to get pelted with stones.
But if I said I was an adventurer, at least I wouldn't get laughed at or stoned—that much difference in treatment was certain.
Here, obtaining adventurer status and heading to another village or city to shed the "slum kid" label was my top priority.
Following Grandpa Leon's advice to keep my eyes down, I arrived at the Adventurer's Guild, where the stench of booze hung thick in the air.
It seemed to double as a tavern.
From here on, looking weak would only spell trouble, so I straightened my back.
The woman at the reception desk didn't have the stunning beauty of those in games.
Not ugly, mind you—just plain and unassuming.
I strode confidently to the counter.
Eye contact might make her recoil in disgust, so I pretended to look elsewhere.
I opened my mouth.
"I'm here to register as an adventurer."
"...Kid, this isn't a playground."
Kid.
Yeah, that's what I looked like right now—a little girl.
Too short for the counter, even on tiptoes.
But appearances aside, I was an adult man, a real aspiring adventurer here to make it legit—not some child's prank.
"...I'm serious about becoming an adventurer."
"You know the procedure, then?"
"...Yes."
I pulled a silver coin from my pocket and handed it over. The receptionist checked it, then gave me a form.
Becoming an adventurer required a simple verification.
The guild didn't want just anyone claiming the title.
You either had to complete five or more guild requests to build trust, or have someone vouch for you.
I went with the latter.
I handed over the voucher Grandpa had prepared.
Grandpa had done everything for me.
So, I had to make sure I didn't cause him any trouble.
It was a given, and I etched that resolve deep in my heart.
"A voucher from Grandpa Leon...?"
The receptionist looked surprised for a moment but proceeded indifferently, verifying it before handing me my adventurer tag.
"Listen up, 'cause I'm only explaining once."
"Yes."
"If you lose it, you have to explain exactly how, and reissuance costs three silver coins. And yours is wooden, right?"
As she said, my tag was wood.
The bottom bore the Adventurer's Guild seal.
"It means you're the lowest rank—basically an errand boy. Don't go bragging about being an adventurer. We'll record your missions and promote you when the time comes. There are four ranks total."
"Wood, copper, silver, gold."
"Huh, you know your stuff."
Her exaggerated, patronizing tone grated on me.
"If you wanna boast 'I'm an adventurer,' at least make it to silver first."
She spoke like she was lecturing a kid playing pretend adventurer.
But it was useful info, all the same.
Real adventurers started at silver, basically.
I nodded, and she stared down at me, smirking before her final words.
"Well then, I hope you have a fun and romantic adventure."
"Thank you."
Even if I avoided eye contact, my aura was probably off-putting enough.
For her to smile and explain everything anyway? Impressive.
"Well then... Ah!"
"Business done? Move."
Someone shoved me aside rudely with brute force, nearly toppling me. Instead of glaring up, I slammed my gaze to the floor.
Frozen in confusion, I overheard the pusher and receptionist.
"...Haha. Dex, what request today?"
"...Subjugation."
"No subjugation requests left for a silver adventurer like you... The last one was the one you handled."
"...Then hand over your body, as promised. You said if I cleared all the monsters around here, you'd give yourself to me."
"Th-that was just... said in the heat of the moment..."
"You lying? To me?"
The air grew tense.
Not even aimed at me, yet I shrank anyway.
And offering her body for monster extermination?
Was the guild that broke they couldn't pay properly?
I didn't know, but sticking around wouldn't end well. I hurried out.
Back on the street, piercing stares rained down again.
Inside the guild, no one batted an eye at me. I couldn't figure it out but let it slide for now.
With credentials secured, no reason to stay in this city.
Everyone in the outer walls knew I was slum trash.
Too many restrictions here.
Grandpa said starting fresh elsewhere would be easier on the mind.
Taking his words to heart, I paid for a wagon to another city and hopped on.
Two days later, we arrived.
Lower walls than Diran, no clear outer-inner divide.
Half the size, but it had everything.
Naturally, first stop: Adventurer's Guild.
No booze smell this time—pure guild.
The older woman at reception offered two requests.
Herb gathering and rat extermination.
Herbs were always short, so always posted.
Rats: clear them from a mansion basement.
Herbs could wait; rats might get snatched. Chose rats.
Reward: 60 copper coins.
60,000 won—not much, but I wasn't picky.
Only one silver left; lodging would bankrupt me.
Grabbed the request and headed over the hill to the mansion, old and stately.
Took a deep breath, knocked.
The door creaked open. A neatly dressed man eyed me, then the request in my hand.
"Here for the rat-catching?"
Polite tone, low voice.
Nodded instead of speaking. He led me to the warehouse.
"Lots of rats below. Vicious and numerous—even cats can't handle. Please take care of it."
Months of hate-filled looks and sneers—except Grandpa's.
This politeness felt awkward, almost off-putting.
"Any questions?"
"...Why leave the rats unchecked so long?"
She said ask, so I did.
Should've handled it before they multiplied. He frowned slightly.
Thinking he was mad, I trembled. He caught himself, softened, explained.
Not the original owner.
Newly bought the place; previous owner neglected the warehouse. Discovered too late.
"Previous owner sucks..."
"Tell me about it. We'll see you back at the door when done."
"...Thank you."
Never expected such kindness—grateful.
Walking back, one realization from the chat.
Avoid eye contact, and the disgust seemed milder.
Why so bad in Diran?
Bad tempers there?
No—Diran's outer folk knew I was slum-born.
Maybe the crap I'd faced wasn't my trait, just slum stigma.
"Hoo..."
Drew my sword.
Warehouse door revealed stairs down.
Stench of rot, maggots, feces assaulted me.
"...Urk."
How long neglected?
Squeaks echoed everywhere.
Dozens at least... 60 copper seemed off, but that's why it waited for me.
Steeling myself, descended.
Wooden steps creaked sickly underfoot.
Some squelched horribly.
Ignored what I stepped on, didn't look. Bottom: rats appeared.
Lit the lamp on a pillar first.
Light spread; slashed the nearest rat's back.
Splat! Death squeal.
Sticky sword tip—nausea surged.
Swallowed it; then agony at ankle—collapsed.
"Gyah!"
Rolled on filth, but assessed first. Swung sword to scatter rats, checked ankle.
A rat latched on.
Grabbed, smashed against wall till it burst.
"...Vicious means they attack people?"
Definitely not a 60-copper job.
Bit lip, gripped sword tight—creak.
Dozens glared from dark.
I glared back.
The fight started midday, ended at dusk.
Legs bitten here and there, but cleared them.
Infection worried me, but success mattered.
That evening.
60 copper base.
Bonus 10 for good work—70 total.
But healing and washing cost a silver.
First request result, stench lingering despite scrubs: net loss.
"......Fuck."
I was pissed.