Chapter 44
Chapter 44
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: High-Class? Talent
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Right after parting ways with the Magic Tower folks.
I mulled over Sir Meltas's final words.
"He said he'd send word once the Magic Tower supporter qualification and the Didoa incident resolution reward are finalized."
It had been a satisfying reconnaissance of the Magic Tower (sort of). There were plenty of incidents, but I'd gained just as much in return.
I'd built solid connections with Magic Tower affiliates in various ways, and forging a good relationship with the Tower itself was practically set in stone.
The day even one of those two matters resolved, my identity would be backed by the Magic Tower.
I'd get treatment better than a typical low noble, let alone a bastard.
For example, I currently had two options.
Sit tight and wait for word from the Magic Tower.
Or do something in the meantime before they got back to me.
Me, Rishir. I'd become a man courted by a Master and fretted over by the Magic Tower, but sadly, I was still an unemployed bum.
Sure, I'd spent the last few days building rapport with the Magic Tower, but that meant my job hunt had fallen that much further behind.
Thinking of Fienne and Rona, who'd charmed everyone and landed jobs on day one to go independent, made me antsy about lounging around smugly until the Tower's reply.
But it was also true that job quality varied wildly depending on whether I had the Tower's backing.
"Ask Sir Meltas or Miss Didoa for a letter of recommendation?"
The thought crossed my mind briefly—but
"...Nah."
On second thought, no.
The endorsement of the Magic Tower's Master—those two people—was practically the same as the Tower's own.
But the difference was that all my actions would directly impact my guarantors' reputations.
To maintain constructive ties with them going forward, I had to avoid over-reliance.
"Let's see..."
I checked my pouch.
"This should hold me over for a few more days."
In the end, I decided to wait a bit longer.
"You're late... Magic Tower. At this rate, I'll end up homeless."
A week had passed.
Still no word from the Magic Tower.
Of course, I hadn't exactly been slacking off completely during that week.
Half my waking hours went to scouting Bondales's layout and vibe (not tourism), and the other half to honing my sharply risen power.
My body itched, so I trained too.
If I'd gone to the Tower for advice from Sir Meltas or sparred with Hainya, I'd have seen better results, but unfortunately, I was still an outsider. Being on good terms with a few didn't mean I could pop in like it was my house.
I'd felt the temptation briefly.
How about just joining the Magic Tower outright?
Of course, that was impossible. Tower apprentices took periodic "written exams."
Someone like me, who hadn't even cracked a basic magic tome, trying to keep up with their tests? I'd have to eat books instead of food.
"What sparked your interest in joining the Tower?"
If they asked that, answering "money and power" wasn't something I could handle.
"..."
I checked my wallet again.
"About time—"
It was the perfect moment to doubt the Magic Tower's administrative speed.
Time to do something, anything.
With that thought, I left my room.
District 9.
The area where well-off out-of-towners mostly stayed.
My inn was in Bondales's District 9.
Fine, I'll admit it. I'm far from well-off.
But the reason I stayed in this district was simple.
Anything lower, and my fragile soul couldn't take it.
Retaining memories of my modern past life and raised in noble environs, my soul was prissier than I'd imagined.
District 9. This was my line in the sand.
The day I had to drop to a cheaper inn below, that'd be the day I sold my soul for cash.
I don't think I'm unusually picky.
Fienne went further, holing up in District 7, where rich merchants and visiting nobles stayed.
Word was, the guild master who took her as a receptionist—a woman—pitied her story and comped her a room.
"Damn, lucky."
If I were a damsel who could trigger protective instincts and snag a free place, how nice that'd be.
...Lost in such thoughts, I'd already reached my destination.
[Padian's Morning]
This building stood out even in District 5's flashy commercial strip, packed with glitzy shops. It was a cafe.
In this world, cafes weren't just for sipping coffee—they were social hubs where the city's in-crowd mingled.
As such, they were notoriously strict about staff, yet amazingly, Rona worked at one.
True to her ex-Golden Sun rep—charming folks with looks, vibe, and sweet talk—she passed as premium talent in service jobs.
Yesterday, before dinner, she'd dropped by my inn with a heads-up.
Swing by the cafe where she worked if I had time tomorrow.
So I stopped in before kicking off my real job hunt.
District 5 also hosted several adventurer guilds, conveniently.
Pre-lunch, the cafe was pretty quiet.
As I peered inside from outside, the golden-tanned girl wiping tables spotted me and rushed out.
"Y-You came!?"
Her prickly vibe flipped to shy girl the moment she saw me.
Rona greeted me in her usual sultry, downcast tone.
"How's it going? Settling in okay?"
"...You call this settling in?"
Seems the golden-tanned girl still missed her Golden Sun glory days.
Rona shot me a reproachful look.
"You put me in this mess and..."
"This mess? Anyone hearing thinks I ruined your life."
"You did ruin it...?"
"Most call that guidance. Reformation."
"What..."
"Remember your old life. Sowing discord, naked midnight assaults for 'fun,' aphrodisiacs, mind magic—"
"Th-That was..."
The reformed girl had learned the human heart.
Recalling her past antics, Rona flushed with shame, fidgeting.
Unthinkable for the old shameless Golden Sun.
"Now look at you. A proper cog in society, embracing the virtue of labor. How upstanding. Be proud."
"Proud my ass... I was on the cusp of rank 4, now just a powerless wench..."
Rona glanced up cautiously.
"S-So, when will you restore it?"
"Restore? You mean your power?"
"I could say 'if you're good'—but honestly, Rona, I don't know how. You'd probably level up faster starting from scratch."
"...Can I train, then?"
"You asking me?"
"You're my master..."
"Never thought you'd follow so obediently. Honestly, when I left you to go independent, I figured you'd bolt."
"Wh-What if I ran and never got back to normal...!"
"No guarantee staying with me fixes it either—whatever. Do what you want."
"...You said it's okay? Training?"
Good.
Rona clenched her fists happily, beaming.
"So, what's up?"
"Huh?"
"Why'd you call me to the cafe? For a coffee?"
"No, something else. Though I won't stop you if you want one..."
"What's this something?"
"Ah! H-Here—"
Rona pulled a pouch from her bosom.
"Got my pay this week..."
"Oh, congrats. First paycheck. Nice."
And she didn't just show it—she handed it straight to me.
"...Why give it to me?"
"You're my master. Set my allowance."
Rona watched expectantly, equal parts hope and worry.
My mind reeled.
Never imagined owning an auto-farm slave in my life.
"What the hell are you!"
A panicked shout cut in right then.
The cafe patrons' eyes were all on us now.
A bespectacled guy strode over, planting himself protectively between Rona and me.
"Rona, you okay? This creep didn't do anything weird, did he!?"
He asked her with self-absorbed fervor.
"..."
Rona's passive demeanor flipped instantly.
"What're you talking about?"
"Huh?"
"Who asked for help? Why butt in? Do you even know what he did to me?"
Prickly expression, sultry tone.
The golden-tanned girl was Golden Sun again.
Seems ex-Golden Suns bruised egos at guys playing protector.
"N-No—I thought he was bothering you..."
"What do you know to step in? He's my—"
Rona checked my eyes.
"Acquaintance."
Best not air her slave status here.
"...Yeah, he's my acquaintance."
Rona beamed, backing me up.
"Acquaintance...? Then why the money—"
"Problem? I'm giving it freely."
Rona pressed her advantage.
Whispers from the closer gawkers.
-Did you see? Prickly Rona got all meek in front of a guy.
-What's the deal? Never imagined her leashed to some dude.
All the customers watched eagerly.
-Who the hell's that guy...?
-Rona had a man...?
Some looked outright shocked, like they'd been Golden Sun'd themselves.
Rona's cafe status exceeded my expectations.
-Taking her cash like that—kept man?
Wait.
Kept man?
"Anyway, mind your business."
Rona glared at the glasses guy.
"..."
He looked world-crushed, heading back—then turned and bolted.
"Why do I feel like the bad guy."
Watching guys despair in delusion of Golden Sun rejection bummed me out.
But unlike me, Rona ignored the crowd.
"Sorry. Dragged you into hassle."
She grinned sheepishly, gauging my reaction.
She pocketed a few coins, then shoved the pouch at me.
"This is plenty for me."
"No, wait."
I wasn't that broke to run a slave farm.
I preferred fried chicken over chicken breast steak too.
Plus, taking the money here? Total kept-man vibes.
Word would spread in Bondales.
"It's your first paycheck. Keep it?"
I handed the pouch back; Rona's eyes widened in surprise.
"Thanks..."
"Why thank me—anyway, I'll head out before more fuss. Need anything? You know my inn. Come by."
"...But I'm your slave—"
Rona chuckled, waving lightly.
Clutching her pouch preciously in her other hand.
"..."
Gadena.
He stared ahead gravely.
-...!!! ~!!
-~~!!! ~!~!!
-...! ...!~ ~~!!!
A rare sight.
Fearful, timid spirits frolicked joyfully, ignoring Gadena's approach.
On that chair soaked in that human's aura, no less.
Elf pride was at stake.
Gadena refused to acknowledge what that chair implied, no matter what.
But now wasn't the time for pride.
A hulking figure in black robes addressed him.
"Their movements spotted in Bondales. Hurry, Gadena. We must secure 'it' before they do, no matter what."
"..."
After deliberation, Gadena rose to leave the lab.
"Where to?"
The giant asked.
"Magic Tower."
"Magic Tower?"
The giant's blocky brow furrowed.
As far as he knew, no Magic Tower mage rivaled elf spirit arts.
Gadena explained, understanding the reaction.
"Master Meltas knows someone who can help."
"An elf we don't know?"
"No. The human who made that chair."
"...?"
The giant gaped at the artifact brimming with mystic power.
"A human made that artifact now?"
"...It's not exactly an artifact."
"?"
Rishir looked up at the building before him.
[Dragon Adventurer Guild]
One of Bondales's top guilds by reputation.
His expression as he eyed it was profoundly meaningful.
Soon, he chuckled and shook his head.
Self-aware as he prided himself, Rishir thought.
"Even so, a bastard kicking off his career at a mega-corp? Too shameless."
He turned away without regret.
"Mud Boots Guild should be around here—"
From his research.
If Dragon was undisputed top-tier, Mud Boots teetered on second-tier.
"That should be worth a shot, right?"
As Rishir moved to go—
"Hey, mister. What's up? Come and leaving already?"
"Huh?"
A rough-edged woman approached him.
Her name: Kella.
Dragon Adventurer Guild member.
"Here for our guild, right?"
"Ah, maybe—"
"Kella. Dragon Guild."
She offered a handshake, brimming with pride.
"Ah, I'm Rishir. Dragon Guild—impressive."
"Hahaha, won't deny it. I am kinda great. So, Rishir—again, business with us? Tough trek wasted if you bail."
"Well—"
"Got a commission? I guarantee: come on in, no hesitation. Dragon never disappoints."
"...Actually, the opposite."
"Opposite?"
"Looking for commissions to take."
"...Ha!"
Kella got it a beat late and burst laughing.
"What, mister—you an adventurer?"
"Aspiring, precisely."
"Tch... bad idea."
"That so?"
Kella smiled wryly, sizing him up.
Refined looks, light air.
Body toned decently, but no adventurer's requisite violent edge.
"Rolled in this scene long enough? I can spot the fit now. You? Not guild material."
"That how I seem?"
"No offense—praise, even. This biz ain't the romantic tales. Total cesspool. Sewer for bottom-feeders?"
Kella clapped his arm chummily.
"Job for guys with no other options. You don't fit. Cute face, refined manners. Bet you quit in a week, running scared."
"That right...?"
Good intentions, but ripe for taking offense.
Yet Rishir pondered earnestly; Kella thought again.
Yeah, this guy's hopeless!
She couldn't let this cute(?) guy rot pointlessly in the pit.
As she opened to persuade—
"..."
Rishir's face hardened; he ducked into an alley.
"Hey? Mister! What's wrong?"
Worried, Kella hurried after.
"...!"
Soon, an odd scene unfolded ahead.
"Wolf?"
A young, not fully grown wolf.
Black-robed figures fully concealed, surrounding it.
"..."
The intruders noticed them, eyes turning.
Gazes met briefly—
One drew a bizarre sword, charging Rishir.
"Fast!"
Far beyond her expectations.
That movement.
Maybe even rank 3.
"Rishir, back off!"
Kella drew to shield him.
Tough foe even with her party.
Not one to fight head-on.
"Gotta make an opening and run!"
As she steeled herself—
-Thwack!
A sudden gust hurled the charging thug into the wall.
"Gahk!"
Back and head smashed, he expelled his breath and passed out.
"...!"
"...!"
"...!"
Kella and the thugs alike reeled.
Truth be told, Rishir was baffled too.
He prided his self-awareness.
Wrong.
His senses skewed farther than he thought.
Most lacked mana sense to gauge realms at a glance.
Like hidden assassin guild masters, shamans under lich protection, Tower Masters, genius mages, ancient elves.
Yet Rishir, senses warped by unique ordeals, thought:
"Huh? No backup, just charging?"
He'd pegged the thug instantly: early rank 3.
Confident charge meant aces up sleeve, he figured.
So he went full power—and what—
"Wh-What did you do...?"
Such mana gap, no countermeasures?
Rishir stared, utterly baffled.
"..."
The thugs' faces crumpled.