I Don't Like Pain

The guild hall was a noisy place. People hunched over request postings, people drinking — adventurers of every stripe filled the room.

The reason I'd come here today was to recruit people to take into a dungeon with me.

Following Faran's lead, I headed for the guild reception desk.

"This is the place, Young Master."

Faran still wasn't much for expressions, but ever since the last incident she'd been sticking close at my back, doing everything she could to help. Which is why, as you can see, she now stepped forward to take the lead on just about everything.

"Thanks, Faran."

She gave a quiet nod at the praise. She looked pleased.

I hadn't realized it before, but Faran actually likes being complimented. I'd taken her for a cat. Turns out she's a dog. A dog-cat, then?

"Welcome. How may I help you?"

The young woman at the reception desk greeted us with a polite smile as we approached.

"I'd like to put up a recruitment notice for adventurers."

"In that case, please fill out the request form in front ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of you with the details of the job and the kind of adventurer you're looking for."

I took the paper as instructed. On it I wrote that this was a dungeon exploration and raid, then listed out every condition I wanted in an adventurer, right down to the most important line of all — the hiring fee.

I wanted experienced, battle-hardened adventurers. That way I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠could pick up the practical tips you only learn from people who've actually been through it.

"I've received it. Let me just look this over."

The receptionist reviewed the form, checking for anything I might have left out.

"Oh my…"

A small sound of admiration. That would be the hiring fee. True to his word, Father had put up a considerable sum, which meant I had far more money to work with than I'd expected.

Being a ducal house really does mean the coffers run deep.

Memories flickered past of the early-game days I'd spent scraping for coin. Sure, if you play long enough you pick up all kinds of tricks for making money — but being able to throw around this kind of cash was a privilege, no question. With essentially no budget ceiling, I could actually hire the adventurers I wanted.

Money really is the best.

"Very well. We'll put out a call for adventurers matching your conditions and be in touch as soon as we can."

"I'll leave it in your hands."

That took care of why we'd come. Even so, Faran and I decided to look around the guild a little longer. I'd seen the place as a set of images in the game, so it was familiar in that sense — but this was my first time actually standing in it, and I was curious. And while I was here, I figured I might as well check whether anyone with decent stats was hanging around.

The building was full of muscular types who looked plenty strong. But no matter how tough someone appears on the outside, peel back the surface and most of them don't live up to it. Which is exactly why being able to read other people's information is a genuinely broken ability.

Unfortunately, nobody really caught my eye. Just so-so stats across the board.

"Hmm…"

I kept looking anyway, not quite ready to give up hope — and that was when someone sitting alone in a corner, hood drawn up over a robe, leapt out at me.

"You've got to be kidding me…"

"Is something the matter?"

I'd sworn I wouldn't be shocked by anyone else after Faran and Jacqueline. That resolution crumbled in about two seconds.

Dana. One of the strongest tanks in the entire game. She was one of the NPCs I'd created — a woman built around the concept of a masochist freak tank.

NPCs could pick up mental debuffs depending on what they'd been through, and tanks — the ones who stood out front and shielded their teammates — caught those debuffs more than anyone. A tank needed physical stamina, durability, and genuine trust in the people behind them. But fight after fight wore their minds down to nothing and left them with the kind of damage you couldn't see. The strong, seasoned ones were different, of course. There just weren't very many of those.

At the time, I was sick of having to swap tanks out like consumables. So I sat with the problem and thought, What if I just made one who enjoys getting hit?

That was how Dana was born — overwhelming durability, plus a masochist trait bolted on. Truth be told, Masochist was closer to a debuff than anything. It wasn't kind to its owner. Because it converted pain into pleasure, going too long without physical suffering could send them into some very strange behavior. But by the mid-to-late game you were basically living on a battlefield, and I figured the trait would mesh with the tank role. I built her as an experiment on the strength of that hunch.

The results were better than I'd expected. And now that same Dana was sitting right in front of me.

She was an NPC I'd set to appear from the mid-to-late game onward — someone I never should have been able to run into this early. Which explained why her stats were still lower than they were supposed to be, and why the trait hadn't bloomed yet. Her performance was a sure thing, though. If there was any way to bring her along, I wanted her.

"Shall we go over there?"

We walked up to Dana, still sitting alone in her corner. She was quietly sipping a beer and letting out a long sigh.

"Might I have a moment of your time?"

She hadn't noticed us approaching and startled visibly — then looked us over from head to toe, took in our clothes, and nodded.

I sat down and held out a hand, ready with a friendly handshake.

"A pleasure. I'm Alvin Gilbert, and this is Faran."

I introduced the two of us.

"Gil… Gilbert? The ducal house? It's an honor. My name is Dana."

Dana took my hand. She must have been nervous — her voice kept climbing.

"Might I ask what business you have with me?"

"As it happens, we recently discovered a new dungeon."

"A dungeon?! Mmph."

Dana was so startled she shouted it. She clearly realized how loud she'd been, because she clapped a hand over her own mouth.

"So we've been looking for people to come with us. And you've caught my eye."

"M-me?"

Dana and Faran both looked equally thrown. From their side of things I didn't know the first thing about Dana, and here I was saying she'd caught my eye out of nowhere. I supposed that could look a little strange.

"I have a good eye for people. And as it happens, I needed a warrior who could stand on the front line — someone exactly like you."

"If that is what you say, Young Master."

Absolute trust, these days, from Faran.

"Mmm…"

Dana, on the other hand, had started to wrestle with herself. This was exactly when a psychology check was essential.

Was she the type who liked money?

"I can promise the hiring fee will be well above the going rate."

She flinched. I could have sworn her eyes flashed for a second at the mention of money. And she was still hesitating.

"Is there something else besides money? Something you can't talk about?"

Dana nodded.

She had a problem like that?

By the time ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she showed up in the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠game, her stats were already high and the Masochist trait was already in place. The Dana sitting here hadn't grown into any of that yet. So this was something she'd been carrying before her appearance. I hadn't known.

The truth was, getting singled out for a request like this almost never happened. That kind of offer usually only went to famous adventurers whose skills were already a known quantity. Ordinary adventurers took whatever the guild handed them, end of story. For someone like Dana, a situation like this was better odds than running into a king on the street. It was a genuine opportunity.

Which also meant that when something like this landed on a regular adventurer, the first thought was often that it had to be a scam. But I was the Gilbert Ducal Family — as solid a guarantee as you could ask for. There was no world in which I'd stiff her on the pay. She wouldn't want to let a chance like this slip away.

"Rather than sitting here turning it over, why don't we head to the training ground and put your skills to the test?"

Dana, short on confidence.

"I trust my instincts. You'll do well. I'm sure of it."

I put a little steel into her spine.

"All right. I'll do it."

We moved to one of the guild's training grounds — an open yard left free for anyone who wanted to use it.

"All right. Try to block this."

With Faran watching the two of us, I drew a training sword at an unhurried pace. Dana planted herself in front of me, both hands locked around a shield that was nearly as big as she was.

Seeing her like that, shield up, I could almost see the Dana I remembered from the game.

I swung the sword, slow and measured.

Clang—

Her shield was solid. She blocked better than I'd been afraid she would. There was still something timid in the way she moved, but it was a far cry from what I'd been worried about. This was the Dana I knew.

So I picked up the pace.

Clang—

The sword met the shield again. This ought to be enough, I thought. I settled that in my mind and figured it was about time to wrap things up — so I slipped inside her guard and swung.

Thud.

Dana was so startled by how instantly I'd closed the distance that she lost her footing and went down in a heap, sprawled and completely open.

I tried to stop the sword I'd already started swinging. I couldn't. At this rate it was going to land square on Dana's rear. It was a training blade with no edge, but a hit like that would still leave a bruise at the very least.

In that sliver of a second I caught her face — flushed with the sheer embarrassment of having fallen.

Don't—

My sword found exactly the destination I'd been trying not to think about.

"Aah!"

Dana's cry rang out. I froze, startled by the sound of it —

Wait. Points?

I was surprised a second time by the message that I'd gained points and the relation level had gone up.

"Haah… huaah…"

And a third time by the message that Dana's Masochist trait had awakened.