Chapter 18
Chapter 18
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Gold Solis Party
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"Is this the meeting spot for the Gold Solis Express?"
"Yes, it is. May I have your name?"
"Yohan."
"Yohan... Yohan... Ah, got it. You signed up for the Novice Package. Right this way."
Somewhere between 18 and 22 years old, perhaps?
The man named Yohan followed the guide to the designated spot, his face a mix of tension and excitement.
His crisp linen blouse was topped with a chestplate and bracers made of leather and bone—clearly brand new, as the oil on them glistened smoothly.
The arming sword at his waist had a spotless pommel without a single fingerprint, and there was no identification tag around his neck. He looked every bit the fresh newbie who hadn't even registered with the Crawler Guild yet.
"The Novice Package has quite a crowd, huh?"
As I sat there dazed, staring at the guests gathering at the departure point, someone approached and spoke up.
When I looked up blankly, a suspiciously squinting man grinned down at me.
...Who was this again?
The face felt familiar somehow.
"Horsdruk. Horsdruk Shieldlove. It's been three years, hasn't it?"
"Long time no see."
Playing dumb when someone was clearly trying to reconnect would just make me look amateurish.
That said, the hint of his squinty eyes and the three-year gap helped me recall him quickly.
'Ah, the party leader from back then.'
He was one of the many party leaders I'd partied with in the past.
Horsdruk. Yeah, that was his name.
Shieldlove clan, though? I hadn't remembered that part.
"Looks like it just clicked for you."
Apparently, my thought process had shown on my face, because Horsdruk smirked as he said it.
"Haha..."
I laughed it off awkwardly, and thankfully, Horsdruk changed the subject.
"Lately, when running carrier parties, the guild's been mandating a quota for novices."
Ah, that was what the earlier talk was about.
"From the Crawler Guild?"
"Yep. Recent guild stats show carrier parties are pretty effective at handling the issues that crop up on first-timers' dungeon runs."
He'd phrased it vaguely as 'first experiences,' but anyone who'd cleared even a single dungeon knew how much grim reality was packed into those words.
Even the upper floors—the dungeon's entry levels—were teeming with monsters that formed its ecosystem.
Take the Gray Hounds you could run into easily on Floor 1. Each one was far more dangerous than a wild dog, rivaling an adult wolf in threat.
And they were born with innate murderous intent toward humanity.
Those dreaming of future wealth and fame challenge the dungeon.
They confront the faint divine powers bestowed upon them, their moderately trained bodies, mass-produced gear, and the harsh truth of entering with equally green comrades.
The dungeon legends had faded into old tales, and it had been ages since the Crawler era began. Things had improved in many ways, but casualties still mounted daily.
And a hefty chunk of those came from first-time combat—a fact every veteran crawler knew all too well.
They'd walked that road themselves, after all.
"Novice Packages aren't hard to manage, and these days, hitting the quota gets you guild subsidies. Pretty decent side income."
...Like government funding?
Well, fair enough. Survive and adapt to that first real fight, and things get manageable after.
From the guild's perspective, investing to cut down on pointless deaths made sense.
Their wealth and power stemmed from crawler numbers and fees on dungeon materials, after all.
I listened to the squinty-eyed guy chatter about how carrier parties ran these days, waiting for everyone to gather.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Twenty-eight. Looks like everyone's here."
Gold Solis eyed the crowd before him, licking his lips with a sleazy grin.
Me, Gold Solis, Horsdruk—the carriers for this carrier party—along with one mage, stood before a neatly lined-up group that looked like students on a field trip.
Gold Solis double-checked the headcount with his eyes, nodded, then turned to us.
"One for lower floors, two for mid, four for upper. That's the clients assigned per person. Collect payments yourselves."
This carrier party's setup was four teams total.
Lower team: Me plus three other carrier crawlers and four clients down to Floor 35.
Mid team: Eight clients to Floor 25.
Two upper teams: Eight clients each to Floor 10.
So per carrier: one lower, two mid, four upper clients to collect from.
'...This part never sits right.'
Would be nice if Gold Solis's staff handled collections and settled up later.
I got the reasons—whatever they were—but face-to-face in real life, not a game? Taking carry fees from clients felt weird.
"Novice Package, Radovan?"
"...Here."
Plus, my rep in this dungeon city wasn't exactly stellar.
Folks who knew me either feared or distrusted me.
Sure, it kept lowlifes from picking fights—a plus—but in situations needing trust, it stung.
Always getting that '...Can I really trust him?' look.
Still.
"Novice Package, Yohan?"
"Yes!"
Bright, eager eyes full of admiration beamed my way.
Pure, untainted by the city's cynicism. No prejudices yet.
Sometimes, you'd see that spark in a newbie eyeing a famed crawler, vowing 'I'll be like that someday.'
Business aside, I was human. Couldn't help warming to these fresh, healthy-faced rookies.
"Do your best."
"Yes, sir! I will!"
His fired-up response made me chuckle despite myself.
Leaving the blushing newbie behind, I continued collections.
'Novices: 4 gold each. Mid: 30 gold.'
Not cheap, speaking as the collector.
Especially considering Kaiden's Party had raked in way more than usual to Floor 22 recently, yet post-split (me excluded), everyone netted under 10 gold each.
Novices, fine. But for mid? Better to buy gear with that cash and solo steadily long-term than pay for carries.
Though hey, I needed the money, so more the merrier.
Pocketed 60 gold from the two mids, leaving just the lower-floor client—the alpha and omega of this payout.
Heading to the lower group—unlike the mids, these four sported pricey custom gear at a glance.
I approached mine.
"Lower Package... Bugs Lucky Lionel?"
"Bugs Lucky Lionel."
Arms crossed, he glared down arrogantly.
Unlike fear, wariness, or envy, Lionel had been eyeing me sourly from the start. He clicked his tongue at me, then turned to Gold Solis.
"Hey, boss. This guy's legit, right?"