Chapter 80
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 80
Chapter Title: Chapter 80
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 80
Chapter Title: Chapter 2 (2)
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Chapter 2 of the scenario kicks off with the continent overrun by every manner of mage spilling out after the mage tower's collapse—a place that might as well have been a psychiatric ward.
From the old monsters stirring up political chaos, to grotesque magic experiments including human vivisections, and mages drowning their shock in a frenzy of summoning spells... all that madness is about to start unfolding.
Of course, being a random event, even Allen had no clue where or what might pop up next. If luck was on his side, maybe nothing at all. If it soured, though, every last one of those disasters could hit at once. ...Not that he'd expect the absolute worst, but he had to brace for at least a few incidents.
And among them, the biggest headache by far was summoning magic—
Sure, if they were just pulling out pure elementals or something innocuous, it wouldn't raise much fuss. But these lunatic bastards were never satisfied with half-assed summons like that.
Even a moderately talented one might be manageable, but nothing was more of a nightmare than a genius mage gone off the deep end with summoning. They'd rip open ever-deeper dimensional gates in pursuit of more powerful familiars, eventually cracking origin gates or even hell portals. With hordes of those things already itching to invade the human realm, who wouldn't take the open invitation? They'd come charging right in, heads first, like it was Christmas.
If Chapter 1 was just the tutorial, the real game started now. And as demanding as the challenges were, this chapter offered the most explosive growth potential for the mercenary business. With top-notch luck, he might even close in on the top ten—but Allen had no intention of getting greedy. Even in [Guild Master], rushing ahead had tanked him more than once or twice. Reality would be no kinder.
Allen let out a long sigh as he gazed out the window at the dawn breaking. Despite only grabbing a short nap after pounding Elena's pussy late into the night, his body felt a touch languid. Yet with this stricter, more regimented routine than army life, his eyes snapped open right on cue every morning. ...No wonder they call the human body a marvel.
The half-year-plus journey had wrapped up just yesterday, but the leader had no time to slack. He already had three or four items demanding attention today.
After a ritual bath in the shoebox of a bathroom, Allen took an early breakfast in the first-floor hall. By then, gum-chewing Natasha—primped to perfection from head to toe for her first outing—descended from her room, fully geared up.
The stunning swordswoman strode right up to her leader and delivered a crisp morning salute.
[Genius] [Indomitable Will] [Bravado] [Narcissism] [Sensitive] [Insomnia] [Enlightenment] [Trust] [Attachment]
With Strength, Agility, and Stamina totaling 157 now, she'd comfortably surpassed the B-rank threshold of 150. Add in [Enlightenment], and an A-rank ascent looked well within reach.
"Good morning, Leader."
"Yeah. Sleep well?"
"...Yes."
...There was the tiniest hesitation, but Allen had a pretty good guess why, so he didn't pry.
"Grab a seat and eat first. One more meal here—"
The grizzled innkeeper soon plunked down a fresh plate in front of Natasha, deftly sweeping the coins off the table.
Having endured nothing but vile slop during her demon plague ordeal, she now devoured anything put before her with relish. Compared to those days, this was heaven on a plate.
The pair polished off their bowls and stepped out of the inn. The leader's usual bodyguard was old hound Kallisman Rowner, but today Natasha had volunteered for city sightseeing duty. And so, they strolled shoulder-to-shoulder down Bermandua's dawn streets.
The mercenary city buzzed from the crack of dawn. Squads hustling for early departures crisscrossed the main drag, hurling curses and shouts.
Natasha, in particular, was utterly entranced by the majestic river snaking its way along, sunlight gradually filtering across its surface in a scene that bordered on the divine.
Riverside peddlers, yet to open shop, sprawled haphazardly on the pavement, shoveling random scraps into massive bowls and slurping them down like soup from wooden mugs.
Emaciated beggars prowled their fringes, desperate for a single bite.
The duo headed first to the Mercenary Guild. As Allen emerged after settling the payout for tattooed Arnold—who'd died on their last mission—a few mercs who'd tried sweet-talking the pretty Natasha were already rolling on the ground after eating punches.
"Fucking hell. Want me to burst your balls?"
Allen cleared his throat a few times, and Natasha snapped back to her prim demeanor with an "Excuse me—." ...Even a well-bred noble miss turned merc was still a merc at heart.
They continued along the riverbank. Allen's destination this time: Viola House. Back in Bermandua after so long, skipping a courtesy call would leave a bad taste. But a top-ten leader deigning to visit a rookie outfit? That'd bruise his dignity. Allen got the politics.
They soon arrived at Viola House. Allen parked Natasha in the hall with a quick "I'll just say hi and bounce." Her talent was top-ten caliber; no sense introducing her to Viola's leader just yet.
...Not that the woman would hijack someone else's prize, but she did have a nose for talent. Better safe than sorry—ten fathoms of water were clearer than one fathom of human heart.
Allen figured Viola would be miffed if she knew.
But what could he do? The Status Window only gave surface-level psych reads, not full mind probes.
For now, they were strictly business partners. Best to keep it rational, not emotional.
With that, Allen trailed the butler solo.
Viola the Mercenary Leader had been tearing her hair out lately over these mages from the western mage tower. Brimming with unexplained confidence, they'd flash their tower credentials and demand spots in the top ten... but they were all scraping just over 200 stats at best. The highest? A measly 244.
And they showed zero interest in grinding in the second or third squads. Might've considered frontline candidates if they had any battle sense, but most screamed "clueless lab rat." ...Generous take: pampered greenhouse blooms. Harsh one: flashy poison berries.
Entertaining their pitches wasn't the issue; it was the grudge-faced stomps when rejected. Each time, Viola sighed inwardly that they should've all perished with the tower instead of surviving to cause this bullshit. ...She'd once laughed off the joke calling the mage tower a prison for lunatics, but now it felt all too real.
Flipping through paperwork that day in hopes of no mage visits, the butler delivered unexpected news.
"Allen the Leader is here. I've shown him to the parlor."
Shock gave way to delight. She'd been waiting with bated breath, and here he was.
She kept her cool on the surface, replying evenly. Couldn't look undignified before a top-ten heavyweight.
"Be there soon."
"Yes, ma'am."
Butler gone, Viola pulled a mirror from her drawer for a meticulous once-over. ...Not because she had a crush, she told herself—just to match top-ten standards.
Viola exited her office for the parlor. Her pace quickened in empty halls, slowing to poised elegance whenever a merc or worker passed.
At the door, she swallowed her nerves and clicked it open.
Allen had been admiring the stunning river view from the terrace. Spotting the hostess, he flashed a warm smile and approached.
"Viola Leader. It's been too long."
"Long time no see, Allen Leader."
They clasped hands warmly, shaking with genuine cheer.
"All well on your end?"
"Yes, doing great. Relieved to see you safe."
Handshake done, the pair settled at the table facing each other. Allen sought permission first.
"Just rolled in yesterday, swamped with backlog. Can't stay long."
"No worries. Leaders are busy even after missions. ...Tea at least?"
"Naturally."
Viola personally hefted the teapot, filling their cups halfway.
"Your exploits in the west are all the rage..."
"Decent luck helped."
"Heaven's favor makes you greater still."
"...One way to see it."
"In our world, survivors are the victors. Skill, luck—doesn't matter."
Classic top-ten talk. Every word slotted perfectly into Allen's mindset.
"And I have no doubt you'll be the ultimate winner."
"You're gilding the lily—makes me blush."
"No gilding. I don't spout nonsense."
Brief silence. Viola took a sip.
"Anyway... if you're rushed, don't mind me—head out. We can chat over a meal next time. Swing by when free. ...Still got unfinished business to discuss."
"Got it. Then I'll take my leave."
Greeting checked off, no point lounging. As she said, save the deep talk for a relaxed dinner.
...Should make it quick.
Business on the table? Salivating already.
"Until next time."
"Yes, Viola Leader."
Another warm handshake, laced with soft smiles.
...Showing smiles was favoritism from her side, but with no witnesses, why not? This was about roping in a 522-stat prodigy!
Allen soon departed. Viola returned to her office. Word spread, and the burly vice-leader showed up with a sleazy grin.
"Sis, time to settle down, no? Too late and birth'll be rough."
"What bullshit again! It's not like that—?! Strictly business with Allen Leader, business!"
"Ah, gotcha. Heh heh. Sure thing, heh."
"Wipe that grin, I warned you!"
"Yeees, heh."
"Wanna die? ...Get out!"
The vice lumbered off, smirk intact.
That damn bastard—
...In that instant, she'd pulverized three babies in her head.
No, what a pathetic thought—babies my ass!
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