That Shouldn't Have Happened (7)

It wasn't a quest completion. It was an update.

"You took all of them down by yourself…?"

"Confessing that even this is beyond you alone is rather pathetic. Were you hoping to die?"

I brushed off the mercenary's admiration on reflex — reacting to every line made the dialogue more fun — and casually checked the quest.

A game that handed out even the cleanup as a quest — that was a first.

More importantly, why had the numbers gone up when I hadn't done a thing? Did NPC contributions count too?

If so, no reason for me to step in. It was bad luck, sure, but this kind of grunt work did nothing for my image.

I leaned against a tree at the roadside. The mercenaries sent by the merchant company muttered and grumbled, but that wasn't my problem.

"Why demons of all things…"

"I've escorted plenty of caravans, but I've never seen anything like this in the west."

"If it had been barbarians, at least I'd understand…"

If I learned anything while waiting for the recovery work, it was that the game had been built with real care — battle traces didn't even disappear.

When this much data piled up on a map, lag was usually inevitable, so even if corpses stuck around, the combat marks — churned-up earth, weapon scars — were usually cleaned up. Not here. Not a single one of those shortcuts.

Next-generation gaming, huh. Looked like Simjinju was going to swallow the whole industry.

"How can a demon pack show up this close to the city?! This has never happened before!"

"We should file a complaint with the city!"

That was the meta side of things. Internally, I'd learned something else too.

The fact that this ambush was so abnormal, so without precedent, meant it was 100% tangled up in something bigger. Factor in that the story framework of Legend of Heroes was "adventurers gathering to stop the Great Demon Satan, who broke free of his seal," and the guesswork got even easier.

"There aren't enough bodies…"

"What?"

"Even allowing for damage during the fight, there are too many people missing."

And the corpses themselves were short? That meant demon worshippers, or a black mage, or — whatever they were — someone related who had pulled a mindless terrorist stunt.

Which meant a separate quest to find the culprit behind this would drop later.

I could see it already. Twenty years of gaming experience made prophecy a basic skill.

"For now, let's head back to the city. We need to stay alive first."

"They took the money and still couldn't handle a proper demon subjugation… The lord is going to pay for this."

Listening to the survivors' complaints, I whistled inwardly.

Showing even this kind of dialogue and the journey home made it feel like I was actually experiencing a fantasy world. The game was genuinely fun.

"…Well done."

Escorting the returnees back into the city, I found an old NPC waiting with a cigarette between his lips and a rotten expression on his face. Not because of me — the damage had just been that severe, so his face had gone sour.

"Just pay me what's fair."

Still, I was running a personality-disordered concept, so I didn't bother caring. I'd saved this many lives; that was enough. No reason to show any more consideration than that.

"Hmph! I'm not about to stiff someone with the Adventurer's Guild at his back! Wait here!"

If I brought up the Demon Energy antidotes now, it'd break character, right? Fine. I'd trust him to handle that part himself.

Still soaked in blood, I heard the quest completion notice. Thanks to turning the BGM down earlier, my ears didn't hurt this time.

But… if it was already chiming, what happened to the rewards?

"I'll assign someone to you — how about waiting at the inn? We'll settle payment once things are sorted out."

I briefly furrowed my brow at the order of operations, and a middle-aged NPC stepped up to speak. I found myself admiring the carefully rendered expression even though it wasn't a cutscene — then the content of what he said made immediate sense.

Of course. The main quest hadn't even dropped yet; there was no way the questline would just cut off. The quest window still showed the updated entry in a single line.

"It had better be enough to satisfy me."

I looked him over steadily, then uncrossed my arms in a gesture of assent.

I'd been meaning to stop by an inn anyway. Perfect timing.

"Of course."

Or maybe the developers had planned for this. Even a spectacularly dense user — say, someone like me — would realize by this point in the playthrough that the filth on your body didn't vanish on its own.

"Hey, you there! Show this gentleman the way!"

If they'd built the game like this, there had to be shower facilities too. Great — let's see how they implemented the shower function. Might as well tour the inn while I was at it.

Earlier I'd only gone as far as the entrance, so I hadn't checked the rooms inside. What would the interior be like?

My heart fluttered with anticipation.

Scratch that. Anticipation cancelled.

There were waterworks, sure, but the rooms didn't come with private baths, so you inevitably had to use the communal bathhouse. And the water wasn't even hot.

Soap cost extra, too. And it was ridiculously expensive!

That was enough to reclaim a portion of my loyalty to the developers.

Come morning, the merchant company's NPCs came looking for me. A hefty reward, and with them, Iseren of the Adventurer's Guild office.

"Our people owe you."

They paid first thing.

Three hundred thousand Gal, five vials of Demon Energy antidote, five bundles of hemostatic bandages, painkillers, and more. Just as I'd half-expected — everything I'd given to the caravan people came back twofold.

"It's a standard rescue commission with a little extra on top. Are you satisfied, adventurer?"

"It's enough."

Ugh. Standard rescue fee or not, with a tip this big there wasn't even room left to act out.

I stuffed everything into my inventory. Still plenty of space, so the Tetris packing could wait.

"Is there more business?"

More to the point, the NPCs weren't clearing out — smelled like a quest.

"Not from me…"

"I'd like to entrust you with one more commission."

"…What?"

Gamer instincts, dead on the money. A quest after all.

Even if the clerk who was supposed to mediate commissions looked like she was hearing this for the first time.

"Speak."

Thud.

I shut the inn room door and leaned against the wall right beside it, arms still crossed. They'd walked in just as I was about to leave, so I was fully geared — enough presence for the occasion.

"What an attitude…"

"Sir…"

In my current state, that was the same as being told I'd acted well, so I accepted the praise gratefully.

"Demon extermination. Location: the northwestern forest."

"What? Sir, that area has already been assigned by our guild to another adventurer…"

"And I've yet to hear a single word that it's been resolved, which is exactly why!"

The old man slapped his own leg and bellowed. For such a small frame, the man had formidable lungs.

The middle-aged NPC pressed a hand to his forehead, and Clerk Iseren shrank into herself.

"You think only one or two of our people make their living in that northwestern forest? If you Adventurer's Guild lot had sent someone competent in the first place, I wouldn't be doing this!"

"That's…"

"Enough! Having seen what this one can do, I'm sending him!"

Temper aside, he seemed like a decent enough man. Everything about the commission was for other people's sake.

"So I just need to eliminate the demon in the northwestern forest?"

I didn't dislike that kind of character. Not that I intended to be polite about it.

"That's right."

"Haah… Since you're so insistent, I'll start mediating the commission immediately. But for the adventurer who already set out…"

"What am I supposed to do about someone who can't take the job because they lack the skill?"

"You'll still need to pay the cancellation fee."

"Hmph."

While the clerk and the company master went back and forth, the middle-aged NPC approached me with a worn, weary face.

"Ahem… Allow me to explain the situation."

He looked like he'd given up trying to break the old man's stubbornness ages ago. The middle-aged NPC laid out the commission in detail. Nothing particularly worth perking my ears up for.

A demon had appeared in the northwestern forest; it was cunning enough that it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠still hadn't been caught. Kill it so people could come and go through the forest in peace. That was the whole summary.

The one noteworthy detail: like the sewer quest earlier, this had been a commission in the original game too.

I wasn't entirely sure, but the full main quest would probably appear after this one. They'd said it was reworked, so it might be different — but still.

"I won't ask you to leave today. But the sooner you take care of it, the better."

"The pay."

"There's a bounty of seven hundred thousand Gal on its head."

"And?"

"…Since this is a private hire, I'll add another two hundred thousand if you just bring it down."

No — I'd just been asking whether the reward was seven hundred thousand Gal.

You could push the price up like this? I hadn't even taken the Negotiation life skill yet. I'd put it off to pick up other things.

Was this possible without the skill at all?

"…Three hundred thousand Gal."

I'd gone quiet for a moment, mulling over the game systems. And the price went up again.

"Only if you bring it in, though. No catch, no pay."

"…There's no chance I fail to catch it, so just have the money ready."

Mom. I'd always thought I was bad at price negotiations. Maybe I wasn't? Or was it the concept doing the work? Mom, should I roleplay like this at my real job too?

"Then the contract will be for the seven-hundred-thousand-Gal bounty plus three hundred thousand in private hire fees — one million Gal total. No advance payment; no fixed deadline, but compensation is only paid upon delivery of the target. Brokerage fee is the usual five percent."

In the meantime, the clerk seemed to have settled things with the old man. Her pen moved quickly as she drafted the contract.

The moment I signed the contract, a new quest was added.

"I'll leave right away, then."

"Wait — leave immediately? At least rest a day—"

"I have no intention of wasting time while a demon is out there."

Clear this one quest and my cash on hand would double. Rest? For what?

I kept my voice as cold as if the polar ice itself had possessed me, even as I was grinning on the inside. The old man, the middle-aged NPC, and the clerk all worked their mouths open and shut before settling into solemn expressions.

"You'll cover expenses, I assume."

"…Well, this is discretionary pocket money from you, so the guild won't interfere."

The old NPC said so and pulled more money from his robes. The pouch I reflexively accepted was quite heavy. Fifty thousand Gal.

"The northwestern forest is fairly far. You'll need to arrange a carriage bound that way."

A carriage. So basic intercity travel was by carriage, then?

"A horse."

"If you want to borrow a horse, I'll lend you one. But you'll have to pay for that. Horses are valuable."

The old ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠man said so, did a little mental math, and named his price.

"Knowing your skill, I can come down as far as five hundred thousand Gal."

For a second I nearly had a heart attack.

What did he just say? Five hundred thousand Gal? The sewer-cleaning fee had been four hundred thousand, and the reward for the quest I'd just finished was three hundred thousand.

"Since we're the ones in a hurry, if you complete the job and bring the horse back unharmed, we'll return the money. However, if the horse dies or is injured, we will collect a penalty. Around two million Gal."

Ah. Don't tell me. Horses could be attacked as a system? And horse prices were high for historical authenticity? I'd charged in on horseback earlier — I'd almost been ruined.

The back of my head felt a little numb. In most open-world games, you almost never saw this kind of restriction on a mount.

Or maybe they planned to give me one separately later. Somehow I had a feeling that wasn't the case.

"…The carriage, then."

Even a bluff king knew enough about reality to make concessions. It still felt a little like a loss.

"For a carriage, just go to the carriage rental."

The clerk answered, and the middle-aged NPC shouted ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠down to the inn's lower floor. "Errand boy!" A freckled boy with spots across both cheeks and his nose came running.

"If you're headed to the carriage rental, this lad can show you. If you'd rather not walk yourself, you can just send him."

"I said I was leaving right away."

Go straight there, or stop by a general store first? I hesitated for a moment, then decided to go directly. I wanted to know just how this system was put together.

"May the gods go with you, you little brat."

"…May the gods be with you as well."

"Fortune favor you, adventurer."

I left the inn with the three NPCs' send-off at my back. Good thing I'd already geared up. Saved me the undignified scramble of gathering my things.

"This way, sir."

In the meantime, the boy had stepped out of the inn with a cheerful stride. As I followed him, the two-hander on my back clanked and rattled with every step.

"Sir, you're an adventurer, right?"

The boy kept glancing back at me as he hurried ahead. His bouncing curls looked soft enough that I wanted to ruffle them.

"…No."

That aside, the answer to his question was… well. Whether I — whether this character — was an adventurer was a little ambiguous, wasn't it?

Sure, the adventurer's plaque I owned and the way things were going suggested I belonged to the Adventurer's Guild… but that was a job, not exactly an identity.

In the backstory, he did adventuring for money; I didn't think he truly saw himself as an adventurer. Strictly speaking, avenger and wanderer fit the identity better.

"I'm not an adventurer."

So, deny it for now.

"…Ah, you're not…"

Maybe I'd answered too bluntly. The cheeks that had been flushed with expectation drooped.

I kept saying it, but they really had made these NPCs obscenely well.

"…But I do similar work. Something you wanted to ask?"

"……!"

At the little addition, color returned to the boy's face. His chubby cheeks went pink.

"Th-then, have you ever seen the ocean?"

Ah. Even when I over-immersed, I wasn't usually the type to get attached to NPCs. In this game, though, not getting attached might actually be the harder option.

What was I going to do about the reset later?

"I have."

It'd work out. I was already curious how the reactions would change when I came back with a different class, a different concept. For a second playthrough, maybe a more cheerful, social warrior build.

"What's the ocean like?"

"…As blue as your eyes, and full of waves that curl like your hair."

"My eye color is like the ocean?"

"It is."

"Whoa."

I offered a few answers as the boy chattered, heading for the rental. The conversation flowed so smoothly and lively that I almost forgot for a moment that he was just an NPC.

"One moment! I know the best carriage driver among the ones headed northwest!"

And from that, a single instinct rose up unbidden.

Ah. This game. Even without handing you a mount, it would hold up just fine. With NPC interactions ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this free and varied, that fun alone made it almost impossible to fail. It'd take some heat, sure — but still.

"…Ah, those crazy Simjinju bastards."

I moved only my lips, keeping the sound from carrying. It was a lost cause. My broken finger had come back as a game this beautiful — how was I supposed to do anything but love it?

"Here — this is him!"

"I was told you're headed for the northwestern forest… is that correct, my lord?"

"…It is."

"Then you've come to the right place. I was just about to depart. If you'd missed this carriage, you'd have had to wait another three days."

…But wasn't this a bit much? What open-world game built its travel system like this?

I'd wanted to check the systems, poke around town a little, and then leave…!

"The fare is ten thousand Gal."

It wasn't that I had no desire to swing by a general store or the like and get geared up. But the coachman's "three days" had been too much, so I ended up paying and climbing aboard.

Another slice of the loyalty that had already wavered over the shower situation peeled away.