Verbal Promises Are Trash

Balun, of course, knew just how prestigious the Magic Tower was as an organization. He also knew that no one ever questioned that name.

But none of that mattered to him in the slightest.

Just because everyone else buys it, do I have to? Hell no. I can't believe it.

They don't scam people because they're so great? That's the most ridiculous bullshit I've ever heard. Balun thought. Who the hell can guarantee that?

His conviction stemmed from his previous life as a Korean.

A world where personal info became public property, voice phishing calls coming dozens a day. Whether 070, 010, or 02, any unregistered number got auto-blocked—an ultra-defensive stance.

Having lived that life, even the Magic Tower's reputation couldn't earn his trust.

"Why me? Plenty of great warriors out there."

"Because we've seen your prowess, Sir Balun. That overwhelming presence amid hordes of enemies—not flinching, dominating them all. The skill backing that aura. Our chief mage, Senior Banet, was utterly captivated by you."

Smooth talker.

Looks like bad luck on him.

"Fine. What's the request?"

"Excellent. Then first, take a look at th—"

"Proof first."

"Pardon?"

"You. Got ID?"

Gregory froze. Then he caught on, eyes widening.

"You're seriously doubting me?"

"Not doubting. Verifying."

"Hah! First time I've been treated like this!"

Gregory flapped his robe collar dramatically.

"Look at this. The blue robe, blue tower emblem on the chest—Blue Tower's symbol."

Balun had seen that emblem before. On Banet's blue robe.

"Only Blue Tower mages wear these. No one else. Satisfied now?"

"How do you guarantee no fakes?"

"Pardon?"

"No impersonators at all? Not one in the world?"

Gregory fell silent. He couldn't refute it.

How could there be zero fakes? Impossible, no matter how prestigious the Blue Tower.

"You're relentless. Fine, here's my mage badge."

Gregory chuckled dryly in defeat, pulling out his badge. Matching tower emblem, name, affiliation below.

Balun finally relaxed. At least not a fake.

"Verified. I trust you."

"One bit of advice: curb this behavior. I'm fine, but other mages would see it as an insult. Mocking the Magic Tower could earn you enemies."

Balun nearly snorted.

You're saying that because you're not fine, right?

Intentions clear.

"Got it. I'll remember."

"Good."

No intention of remembering.

Blue Tower my ass—if I don't trust you, that's my business.

Prestigious group means automatic trust? Dream on.

Of course, he wouldn't voice that. No need to make enemies of Blue Tower mages.

"The request. Spill."

"Ever heard of ancient ruins?"

"Ancient ruins?"

Balun's head tilted. Too basic, no?

"Anyone not know that?"

"Oh ho. Smart for a barbarian. You know of ancient ruins."

Now straight-up racist, not even breathing.

"We know basics."

Not knowing ruins would be weirder.

"Excellent. This'll be quick then."

Gregory took a sip of water and began.

"We're exploring an ancient ruin. High difficulty—we're struggling. Help with the exploration."

Balun's face soured.

"Ruin exploration?"

"Yes."

"Allowed?"

"Of course. That's why we're asking."

Balun's brow furrowed. Me at a ruin dig? Useless. I'm no archaeologist.

Digging artifacts, preserving sites, brushing dirt with tiny brushes. What could an axe-swinging brute do?

Of course, that was Balun's misconception. His idea of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠"ancient ruins" differed from this world's.

"Valuable?"

"Pardon? Valuable?"

"The ruins."

"Obviously. Ancient ruins mean artifacts galore."

"I see."

Balun nodded. Now it clicked. Super-valuable site, probably crawling with tomb raiders. Hiring guards made sense.

Hence the 300 gold. Priceless sites.

Even in his past life, broken pots sold for billions as relics.

A site packed with those? They'd pay top gold for guards.

Invest big or lose bigger—skimp on labor, massive losses.

His iceberg of suspicion melted away.

But he wasn't jumping in yet. Balun always tested bridges first.

"Dangerous?"

"Honestly? Yes."

Gregory nodded gravely.

"Unpredictable, really. Who knows what's buried?"

"Fair."

"But that's why it's worth it. Can't leave treasure behind."

"Fair."

Balun nodded. True enough. Courage like that advanced history.

Of course, he'd ditch the treasure in a heartbeat. Life over loot.

"That's why you're perfect. Fearless, indomitable warrior."

"Nah. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Balun's a coward."

"Pardon?"

"One more question."

"Ask away."

"Risk of death?"

Gregory pondered, then shook his head.

"No. Lives matter most. We won't risk them."

"Guarantee?"

"Yes. Of course—"

"All in?"

Gregory's head tilted. All in what?

"Your name, honor, family, ancestors—everything?"

"Pardon? What the—"

"Stake it now. No stake, no deal."

"Fine! I stake everything. No way you'll die. Happy?"

"Nope."

Balun shook his head firmly.

"Contract."

"Pardon?"

"Verbal promises are trash. Written record only. Pen out."

Gregory couldn't hide his disbelief. What kind of barbarian is this picky?

In the end, Balun accepted Gregory's request.

Not exactly as offered—added 200 gold for 500 total.

Nearly doubled the pay, plus over ten meticulously detailed clauses. Only then did Gregory seethe.

"You're no warrior. Merchant suits you better."

"Why's that?"

"You don't know?"

Gregory grumbled curses, but they bounced off Balun. In a world where merchants ruled, it was a compliment.

"Thanks. Praise accepted."

No damage. Balun beamed, nodding.

Rich quick. Heh heh.

Mood sky-high. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Assets tripled overnight. Fancy house in prime district? Dreamable.

He fought rising lips. Don't get cocky. This is your life insurance. Dangerous gig.

"I'll take my leave. See you in two days, east gate square."

Philip, hearing the news, was floored.

"Blue Tower rates you high. Ancient ruins quest? Jackpot."

"Big deal?"

"Huge. Not for just anyone. Even skilled mercs get rejected."

"Not just skill. Trust matters more."

"Why?"

"Mercs unreliable."

Philip continued.

"Imagine: mid-exploration, merc grabs treasure and bolts?"

"Disaster."

"Exactly. Only trustable hires for ruins."

"They trust me."

"Gotta be. Jealous. I shoveled hundreds gold their way, got zilch."

Balun stayed mum. He'd heard Philip bribed massively, minimal results. Pitiful.

Yet here he was, set for 500 gold payout...

Never tell Philip. Might get shanked in sleep.

"Be careful. Ruins are deadly. Even pros can't guarantee survival."

Balun wondered.

"Why so dangerous? Tons of raiders?"

"Maybe. But not the issue."

"Then?"

"Your own side."

Philip's face hardened.

"Exploration teams are viper pits. Mercs and knights glaring, ready to pounce."

"For?"

"Merit."

"..."

"So watch out. Strong ones like you draw envy, jealousy. Pushed too far? Who knows what happens."

Balun nodded. Got it.

Stand out, get hated. Pain.

He could avoid that easy.

Just don't stand out.

Other barbarians would charge front for glory, fame. Philip assumed that, giving the warning.

But Balun wasn't ordinary. Why risk frontlines?

No way he'd volunteer.

Two days later.

Heading to east gate square, Balun froze in shock.

Exploration team massive. Easily 200+, most armored, sword-armed.

Why so many blades? Exploration or war?