Wheels Keep Turning Amidst Confusion
Even as the wheels steadily rolled onward, the signposts of my wavering worries remained unclear. Maybe I should try mercenary work first, then switch to traveling later? While my ears flapped indecisively, the carriage had already reached the outskirts of the royal capital. Over the three or four days of travel, I'd grown fairly close to the mercenary brother and sister pair and managed to pick up quite a few useful tips from them…
Right now, stuck in the middle of the inspection line, I was crouched on the dirt beside the carriage, listening to an explanation about how mercenaries operated, drawn in the sand with a stick. The coarse, scraping sound of the twig dragging through the shallow sand. Grains scattered from the tip, soon forming a crude four-tiered pyramid.
Two mercenaries squatting awkwardly beside the carriage to explain, and me quietly listening.
“Alright, the bottom here is D-class, and each level up is C, B, then A-class. As you can see, the numbers get smaller the higher you go.”
“Mm, mm.”
The alphabet letters rolled off their tongues as naturally as if they were words from this world. Probably a deliberate choice so they wouldn’t end up with some weird, cringey system like “What the hell is that, you weeaboo?”
I listened with genuine interest, eyes sparkling like it was all brand new. Well, technically it was new. Sure, the game had tutorial pop-ups when you entered buildings, but I’d always just mashed “No thanks, skip” on anything that wasn’t directly related to recruiting efficient party members.
While I gave appropriately vague reactions, Elpina snatched the stick from Silven’s hand and continued, poking at the pyramid.
“You start at D-class here. Complete commissions and you rack up promotion points. Oh, and fail them and they get deducted, obviously.”
“But climbing even one tier is ridiculously hard.”
Robbed of his drawing tool, Silven resorted to using his finger for additional commentary. He pointed from the fourth tier straight up to the third… Apparently even the jump from D to C was considered pretty brutal.
Now that he mentioned it, I vaguely recalled seeing complaints on game forums about how hard it was to raise your mercenary rank. Back then I’d just thought, “Why bother with such inefficient content?” and moved on. Hearing the actual numbers made the complaints make a lot more sense.
“If you’re D-class, you gotta do anywhere from forty to two hundred commissions before you can promote to C. On average, people promote around the one-twenty mark?”
“Ugh…”
Forty at the low end, two hundred at the high end. No wonder people said ranking up was a nightmare. Even if the commissions were simple and repetitive, two hundred times was still two hundred times. Just imagining the grind made me tired.
Plus, if I remembered correctly, the final reward for the mercenary content wasn’t even that great. Was it just extra dialogue with mercenary NPCs or something?
“And on top of that, they don’t even tell you how many points each commission is worth~”
Elpina tapped the stick against the middle of the pyramid, grumbling about the system. Wait, they don’t even show the points? The mercenaries understood why, of course. Anyone who actually wanted to promote would obviously chase the high-point commissions if they knew the values. So the guild kept the scores hidden to prevent low-point jobs from being completely avoided.
Hold on. So the ranks stop at D, C, B, A? That felt off. According to my memories, there should’ve been one more rank above A.
To confirm, I turned to the veteran mercenary.
“Is there anything above A-class?”
“Ah… there is one more, but it’s not really connected to the lower ranks.”
His slightly hesitant answer brought a quiet sigh of relief. Good. My memory wasn’t wrong.
Elpina, still holding the stick, seemed to agree with Silven’s words. She drew a line extending outward from the tiny square at the very top of the pyramid.
“Yeah, there’s S-class, but it’s not something you get just by stacking points. Nobody really knows how it works either. Just that you become, like, insanely famous as a mercenary…?”
“So that’s the setting, huh?”
I tilted my head. Elpina also seemed to be guessing about S-class with very little information. It made sense—she’d never cared about it either, since it was so far removed from efficiency.
While we talked, a sudden question popped into my head.
“What rank are you two?”
At the unexpected question, the stick that had been pointing at the top of the pyramid dropped two tiers. The tip stopped on the second tier from the bottom… which meant C-class.
“Huh. Not as high as I expected.”
From their behavior, I’d assumed they were at least B-class. While I silently scratched my nose, Elpina’s voice exploded beside me.
“Ah! You just thought our ranks were lower than expected, didn’t you?”
“…N-no?”
Her sudden bullseye left me momentarily speechless. I shook my head in a panic and finally managed a reply. Weird. Did she have mind-reading magic?
Silven must’ve picked up on my reaction too, because he added from the side,
“C-class isn’t easy either. Once you dip your toes into this industry, you’ll understand right away.”
“Yeah, even this escort job we just did? You can only take those starting from C-class, you know?”
By the time we finished talking, our carriage had drawn quite close to the royal capital’s gates.
“Alright, time to move.”
Silven stood up. He casually tossed aside the pyramid drawing and the stick like they were nothing, then walked alongside the familiar carriage until we reached the gate.
We’d been chatting for quite a while, yet there were still at least ten groups ahead of us, including carriages and people. As we slowly walked over, the merchant uncle stuck his head out like a nervous meerkat, glancing back. Only when we got close did he seem to notice us. He let out a sigh and spoke.
“Whew, I was wondering when you’d show up… What were you guys talking about for so long?”
“This and that. Pay up, pay up!”
Now that we’d nearly reached the capital entrance, Elpina decided the escort mission was over and shamelessly held out her hand for payment, completely ignoring the uncle’s grumbling. The way she bounced on her toes looked exactly like a dog spotting its owner—or its food.
“I already prepared it in advance.”
The uncle handed each of us a money pouch containing our escort fee. Silven accepted his with quiet dignity while Elpina stuck her tongue out at the corner of her mouth and tilted her head, counting the coins inside. Soon both of them transferred the gold and silver into their own bags or pouches, wearing satisfied expressions.
Once we entered the city, our relationship with the mercenaries would end. We were clients bound by money, and the moment that money changed hands, we became strangers again.
…At least, that’s what I’d assumed.
After passing through the short tunnel-like passage, the royal capital’s scenery spread out before us. Before I could even take in the grand sight, Silven’s voice came from beside me.
“Shen, was it?”
“Huh? Yeah…”
Startled by the sudden call, I answered twice in quick succession and looked over. Even after receiving their pay, both mercenaries were still walking alongside the carriage instead of leaving.
Silven continued in his usual calm tone.
“If you ever start doing mercenary work in the capital later, come find me. Just drop my name—Silven—and ask around. If I haven’t quit by then, I can probably teach you a thing or two.”
“Ah, me too! You didn’t forget my name, right? It’s Elpina!”
I’d only meant to leave home and wander around, yet somehow I’d ended up with connections to actual working mercenaries. Their sudden, one-sided kindness left me stumbling over my words.
“Y-yeah… Thank you?”
After hearing my reply, the two mercenaries each gave their own version of a farewell gesture. Silven silently raised one arm and waved his hand limply, while Elpina grinned and flapped her hand energetically. Even so, they had somewhere to be. They turned in one direction—probably heading toward the mercenary guild to pick up new commissions.
I watched their backs until they disappeared into the crowd. Then the merchant uncle’s voice came from the front of the carriage.
“If you do end up becoming a mercenary, at least you’ve got people you can talk to now. That’s something.”
“…Yeah.”
His words carried a subtle note of concern for my future. This world wasn’t just a simple game. Plenty of things resembled the game, but it was undeniably a living, breathing reality.
Even as I reminded myself not to treat this world like a game…
‘Ah, right! Where were those royal capital items again…?!’
My head was already shifting gears—my item-hungry sensor had started beeping again, having momentarily forgotten about the conversation.