A Thief with Guts
Two months later.
There were exceptions, of course, but guild members generally traveled in [parties] of five to ten.
Too few people and you couldn't handle an emergency; too many and your cut of the earnings shrank. It was the sweet spot arrived at through long, hard experience.
Apparently privacy wasn't a concept in this world, because the moment we joined the guild, recruitment offers came pouring in from every party under the sun... and I turned down every single one of them.
"Honestly? They were all dead weight."
"Not a single party was serious about actually exploring dungeons or ruins. From what I hear, parties like that only recruit members through personal connections. Trust matters, after all."
"So we figured it'd be faster just to make our own party..."
We had decided our path forward lay in exploring dungeons and ruins.
The reason was simple: we wanted to dig into the unknown past that had shaped this world.
Unlike everyone else, we remembered the old world with perfect clarity, and the question of what on earth could have done this to the planet itched at us too badly to ignore.
Maybe, just maybe, we'd even find a way to get Noah a new body.
But for all those lofty ambitions, two months after joining the guild, we still hadn't landed a single proper commission.
For starters, taking on dungeon or ruin work required at least a functioning party, and "functioning" apparently meant three members or more.
It made no sense to me, but it was the guild's rule, so rules were rules.
In other words, if we wanted to take official commissions and explore, we needed new party members.
...
Finding party members, it turned out, was genuinely miserable.
As if to pay for all the sensible people we'd met until now, we kept running into nothing but weirdos, one after another.
"These guys are duds too."
"It's really bad, isn't it."
"Stop watching and HELP us!"
"Maybe we should just leave them to die. Actually, no — I'd prefer it if they just died."
"That'll hurt our guild evaluations, you know."
Haah...
I stared at the men being chased by [Horn Wolves], my gaze thick with contempt.
They scrambled desperately toward us, screaming for help over and over. No point hiding it — they were the party members we'd taken on temporarily.
For the record, both were fresh, green Rank 10 rookies.
"Well, at least they can run."
"They did pass the guild's exam, for all it looks. They're not exactly ordinary civilians."
"So how are people like that still so stupid?"
"Aagh! I got bitten! SAVE ME!!"
Whining, are we.
His arm had barely been scratched. All that fuss over that.
Well, whatever. If people like that died, my reputation would suffer, so I supposed I had no choice.
Shhk—
Thwip-thwip-thwip!
I hurled the daggers I'd ordered in bulk from the blacksmith, punching neat little air holes through the Horn Wolves' skulls.
Only after watching the beasts crumple to the ground in clouds of dust did the party members collapse where they stood, heaving great sighs of relief.
I was about to ask if they were all right — but those young faces, flushed with hot blood, held nothing but fury. Not a trace of remorse or guilt to be seen.
Yeah, these ones are hopeless.
And sure enough, they spat out exactly the words I'd predicted.
"Hey! Why were you so slow back there? When we bait them, you're supposed to kill them fast!"
"...Ah, so these days, wandering off on your own, getting ambushed, and being chased for it counts as 'baiting.' Good to know."
"Shut up! If you'd just scouted properly like you were supposed to, none of this would've happened!"
"That scouting was your job. Also, are you going to keep talking down to us? We're Rank 8, if you hadn't noticed."
"Hmph! Same rookies as us — you must've bribed someone. We don't believe in those rank things anyway!"
Utter garbage logic.
The party members the guild had matched us with this time were a total bust, too.
They'd rubbed me the wrong way from the very first meeting... and now, apparently having gathered a matching pair of identical idiots, they took turns grinding on my nerves.
Ugh, I'm losing it.
"Wh—! Behind us! Horn Wolf!!"
"What?"
Wham!
Thud! Thud!
Crunch—!
The instant they turned around, I karate-chopped them across the backs of their necks.
They dropped without so much as a squeak.
Deeply satisfying.
Noah patched the fallen pair up — just enough that they wouldn't wake — and chided me.
"You've done it again. I believe this has become a habit of yours?"
"It's fun, honestly. I never knew the stuff you only see in movies actually works in real life."
"You haven't forgotten that the first man you did it to had his spinal cord severed, I trust?"
"Ahem."
After all, there had been more than one or two fools rattling on and on, scraping at my patience — so this kind of lights-out ending hadn't been a one-time affair either.
Frankly, this was already the fifth time.
"Still, it's not all my fault. The guild that keeps pairing us with garbage like this has problems of its own."
"That much I cannot dispute."
After the monster onslaught during the Blood Moon, the guild had been short-staffed and threw everything into recruiting new blood.
But how many actually useful people could that possibly bring in?
Anyone worth hiring already had their name on a guild roster somewhere.
So all the guild's efforts had accomplished, in the end, was breeding more of these pathetic specimens.
The wariness and envy others directed at us — newcomers starting out at Rank 8 — didn't help either.
"Should we just join someone else's party? Even if I have to work every connection I've got..."
"I doubt it will be easy. Mr. Lovrick mentioned he has no connections on the expedition circuit, if you recall."
"Damn it. Where are the competent people? Every time, it's either decent skill with a garbage personality, or a good personality with lousy skills."
Oh — not that these two had either. Their skill and their personality were both garbage.
I stuffed the unconscious idiots into the cargo bed of the carriage I'd rented in advance.
Time to head back.
...
"Miss Amy, we're back."
"Oh! Mr. Ha Jun. How did it go this time?"
"A complete bust. Could you please match us with someone halfway decent? No — scratch that. Just keep us away from Rank 9s and 10s entirely. They all think they're the strongest thing on the planet."
"I'm so sorry... but we really don't have anyone available."
I collected the reward for the extermination commission and vented to the receptionist.
She was the one who'd helped us sign up when we first came to the guild, so she knew our circumstances well.
But Amy wore a genuinely apologetic look and told me there was nothing to be done.
"Is it really that bad, the manpower shortage?"
"There's no one Rank 8 or above left unattached. And anyone at that level is already in a party, so..."
"Haah. Unbelievable."
"We've been getting complaints about slacking guild members lately as it is. Are the rookies really that hopeless? Though I suppose you two are rookies as well..."
"Don't even start. This time..."
I laid it all out in exhaustive detail — just how absurd these two's behavior had been.
Getting everything off my chest felt good, at least.
Normally I'd have picked up another commission before leaving, but my mood was foul and the remaining postings were all bottom-of-the-barrel stuff, so I just slipped out of the guild instead.
No living expenses to worry about, either... maybe we could afford to rest until a worthwhile commission turned up?
I was wandering aimlessly, hollowed out by the whole thing, when Noah spoke up.
"What will you do going forward? Abandon the search for party members, at least for now?"
"...Yeah. Let's just the two of us for a while. Another round of matchmaking and my stomach might give out. We'll just wait for the dead weight to fall off on its own."
"Hmm... then how about we scout for talent and raise someone ourselves? They wouldn't even have to be guild members."
"What?"
Noah had tossed out a completely unexpected proposal.
Grow a person from scratch, from the start?
It was a tempting idea, but...
"Isn't that unrealistic? Setting aside whether we could even trust them — anyone talented enough to pull their weight right away would already have every recruiter in the region circling, no?"
"Perhaps. But I suspect we could find at least one, if we looked. You can't judge a book by its cover, after all. Why, the people you matched with today looked perfectly presentable on the—"
"Thief! Catch that thief!!"
A thunderous shout cut Noah off, ringing straight into my ears.
Walking along in idle conversation, we'd somehow arrived at the market without noticing.
The crowd was thin — the local economy in a slump — and out of it darted a scrawny little kid in filthy rags, quick as a flash.
Right past the fruit vendor's wife, a face we'd seen around enough times to know.
"Hey, guild man over there!! Grab that one!! Thief! Thief!"
"Good grief. Another thief?"
"They're rampant these days. Apparently all the new orphans from the last disaster flooded into the slums. Probably a case like that."
"Tch. I hate jobs like this — they always leave a bad taste..."
If that kid got caught by the locals, a sound beating was guaranteed.
Maybe worse — they might not survive it.
But I couldn't just ignore a request from a lawful citizen, so I snatched up the little beggar as they bolted for the mouth of an alley.
I'll let them off with a slap on the wrist.
Gotcha.
"God, you're light..."
A groan escaped me at how featherlight the child felt in one hand.
How many days had it been since their last meal? The kid couldn't have weighed twenty kilograms, and that was me being generous.
They squirmed and kicked, straining to escape my grip, but it was nothing more than a pitiful flailing.
"Let go of me!"
"Sorry. But stealing is—"
"F—k you! Curse you, you f—king piece of s—t!!!"
Whoa.
Since when does a kid swear like that?
Greasy, matted hair and a skeletal frame. Between the tangled locks and the rags, it was hard to even guess the child's sex, let alone age — and this kid was rattling off filth that would out-vulgar half the old-timers in town.
I was still reeling from the sheer vocabulary on display when the victim of the theft came running up to us.
"Hah... hah! You got 'em! Thanks, young man."
"Don't mention it. So what did this one steal?"
"Took some fruit."
Whoosh!
The sturdy woman — forearms hardened by years of a hard trade — seized the kid by the ankle, flipped them upside down, and shook them out like a dirty laundry bag.
Clatter! Rumble-rumble...
With every pump of her arms, the kid's body surrendered its hoard — a pile of slightly spoiled fruit, grimy coins, a few silver pieces... even a single gold coin.
There wasn't a pocket in sight. Where on earth had they been stashing all that?
"Let GO, I said! It's just some fruit, so what? You were gonna toss it out rotten anyway!"
"Shut your mouth! Where does a thief's brat get off talking big??"
WHACK!
Her enraged right fist slammed into the kid's gut. The child heaved and gagged, struggling to breathe.
...Thief or not, isn't that a bit much for a child?
All the while, the woman kept one eye on me as she picked up her gold coin.
Gasping for air, the kid convulsed again.
"That's my... money!! You fat s—t of a w—ch... I'll...!!"
"You little bastard, talking like that? Like you'd ever earn money honestly. Can't even sell that body, so you stole it — obviously."
"Better than some whale of a w—ch who got rich by blubbering her whole life!"
"Why, you—!"
The woman's meaty fist rose again.
Judging by her stance, this one was aimed at the kid's face, so I swiftly scooped the child out of range.
A clean hit might actually kill them.
Stealing fruit wasn't a capital offense.
"...Let's stop there. I'll take the gold coin to the guild and try to find its owner."
"Hmph! Oh, will you? Then do me a favor and report that brat to the guards. Honestly, business is bad enough as it is..."
Only after my intervention did the woman come back to her senses and gather up her bruised fruit.
Not that she failed to pocket a few silver pieces in the process. Honestly... I might as well consider that the kid paying compensation.
"Business is bad? Whose fault is that, you rotting barrel of— mmph! Mmph!"
"We'll be going now."
I clamped a hand over the kid's restarting mouth and left the scene.
One thing was for sure — this kid had guts to spare.
Still wriggling, even now, despite the punch to the stomach leaving them struggling just to breathe.
...
Fortunately, for all the sound and fury, the kid wasn't badly hurt.
We brought the child back to the inn where we were staying.
Handing over a starving child to the city guards was a step too far... my inner Confucian dragon howled in protest at the very idea.
Sluuurp—!
Gulp-gulp!
The sound of the kid frantically inhaling soup echoed raucously through the room.
I watched for a while, and once they seemed to have put something in their stomach, I spoke.
Starting with the absolute basics.
"What's your name?"
"What's it to you? You don't actually care."
"Heh..."
I'd hoped the mood had thawed at least a little, but the response came back cold as ice.
Introductions are the very foundation of conversation, but the kid showed absolutely zero interest in communicating with me.
Well, fair enough, I supposed. A stranger approaching like this probably did look suspicious.
Time to change tactics.
"I bought you a meal. The least you can do is tell me your name."
"If you hadn't caught me and gotten my money confiscated, I could've bought my own meal."
"...That would be true, if the money weren't stolen."
"It's not stolen. Prove that it is, if you can."
But the kid's defenses were an iron wall.
Their arguments were oddly airtight and left me nothing to say, but I refused to give up, pestering persistently for a name — until at last the kid said...
"Mister, are you a pervert?"
"What?"
"There's no other reason anyone would take an interest in a kid like me... Ohhh. I get it now. I'm a virgin, you know. How much can you pay?"
"..."
A leap of logic that bordered on madness.
My head was starting to spin.
I didn't even know you were a girl.