Chapter 9
Three days can be both a long time and a short time.
The three days before enlisting in the military or before vacation ends disappear in an instant, while the three days before discharge or right before vacation starts can feel like twenty-four days.
From that perspective, the past three days had gone by remarkably quickly.
After tidying my room and diligently writing the thesis topic I had prepared in advance with the writing supplies I had brought, three days had passed before I knew it. I rose, stretching in the sunlight streaming through the window.
“Hwaaam….”
As I rubbed my eyes, I saw the thesis on the table.
It was easy to tell what level of thesis a master's student could write alone. Even that would have been impossible if Sargadis hadn't had a library.
‘Well, I knew before coming here that it had a fairly large library, so I don't have to worry about that.’
Still, if I submitted nothing but a subpar thesis, my research funding would evaporate, and there was a good chance I would be shunned by academia after review. I would end up like a company commander whose subordinate unit had suffered a desertion incident.
However, that would only happen if I tried to write my thesis exclusively in this inn room.
‘Because starting today, I can accept adventurer requests.’
Sargadis was basically this other world's version of Gyeongju.
It was the kind of region where Silla-era pottery appeared whenever someone tried to build a building, and Goryeo-era stone chambers emerged whenever someone tried to tunnel a subway. Thesis material would roll in on its own while I worked.
The achievements most highly valued in archaeological circles were excavating ruins and interpreting history.
Finding a ruin containing even one useful artifact was better than writing an ordinary thesis. If I discovered records or relics that revolutionized an existing theory, I would be too busy reporting my research results to academia for at least half a year.
The problem was that I also had a high chance of getting myself killed on the job.
The traps and monsters that emerged from ruins could sometimes overwhelm even regular knights. Scholars didn't subcontract work to adventurers despite knowing they were half-assers for no reason. Fieldwork was exactly the sort of thing where getting greedy could get you killed.
‘I need to build up my stats for the next year or two.’
By stats, I didn't mean certifications. I meant the kind of stats people talked about in online games. The sort where you had a million attack power or something.
‘If I don't want to die while exploring, I need to reach at least Gold.’
There were eight adventurer classes in total.
Iron, Bronze, Silver, Gold, Platinum, and Mithril—the six lower tiers.
Above them were Master and Grand Master.
In practice, there were almost no adventurers above Platinum class.
Just as people with the qualifications to move up rarely stayed at small businesses until they died, ordinary adventurers moved on to other large organizations as soon as they reached Gold class.
‘It doesn't matter for me, since I'm effectively straddling both adventuring and archaeology anyway.’
Dual membership in academia and an adventurer guild wasn't illegal. Basically, I just had to work as an adventurer until I earned my doctorate and became Nord, a fucking badass man’s man.
My ultimate goal was to become a man who could say 「Too slow.」 to an assassin targeting my back.
─Clomp, clomp.
That was why I wolfed down the inn's breakfast and headed to the adventurer guild before dawn.
The sun had barely risen, but the guild was already open. It didn't operate like a factory on a twenty-four-hour, four-shift schedule; it simply opened at dawn. In the first place, the city gates closed at night, so there was little point in leaving only the guild open.
“Oh, you're here?”
The employee handling the desk was the receptionist I'd met on my first day. Since we'd already met, we skipped the tedious explanations and got straight to the point.
“Is the plate ready?”
“Of course. Here you go. This is Mr. Nord's plate.”
Gleam─.
It was an iron-colored plate that gleamed even inside the dim guild. It was about the size of two fingers placed side by side. A dark-blue stone smaller than a pinky nail was set into one side. It was a cheap pebble also used as dye.
“Tie this leather cord to the plate and carry it with you at all times.”
The leather cord I received with it was crude, made by beating and cutting leather. I attached it to both sides of the plate and wore it around my neck.
Professor Brammathon's book said it was better to find a good cord and tie it on yourself. Since it could still be lost during a request, the book recommended wearing it around your neck rather than your wrist. Reissuing a plate cost money every time.
“As of today, you're officially allowed to accept requests.”
The receptionist said that as I shuddered at the dog-tag-like feeling around my neck.
“Check the requests on that bulletin board and tell me which one you want. You mustn't just take down the large posters or request forms attached to the board unless they're single-person requests, all right?”
“Understood. Is that the only bulletin board?”
“There are also some on the second floor, but those requests are only available to Gold class and above. You can go up there if you want, but even if you bring one down, you won't be able to register for it.”
“Ah.”
Had they split up the boards because Gold-class requests were rare? Professor Brammathon's book hadn't mentioned that. It was probably because the place where he had worked as an adventurer hadn't been the Audumla Guild.
As I fiddled with my plate and headed toward the bulletin board, several adventurers were already gathered around it despite the early hour.
“There have been a lot fewer goblin extermination requests lately.”
“Yeah. Do you think the requests are leaking to another guild?”
“Who knows? Maybe someone is secretly going around killing only goblins.”
“Hehehe. Where in the world would you find a lunatic like that? They're just goblin bastards. They're probably hiding in some cave and coming up with some stupid plan.”
“Isn't that a good thing? If the job gets bigger, we might finally get promoted this time.”
“Get real. You're more likely to die from acting cocky.”
It was exactly the sort of Iron-Bronze conversation you'd expect. I listened with one ear to the mixed-gender adventurers chatting while looking over the bulletin board.
There weren't many requests available to Iron-class adventurers. Gathering medicinal herbs, exterminating kobolds, hunting wild beasts… There were plenty of requests that took a long time, paid poorly, and were difficult to turn into a decent track record.
Many adventurer guilds worked Iron-class newbies like disposable employees at a small business. Even if they quit, new ones would come in. In Hell Britannia, that was perfectly acceptable.
But I knew which of these low-level requests offered the best value for money.
The source was Professor Brammathon's book, naturally. The rest is omitted.
“…There is one.”
I picked up one of the request forms from the bulletin board.
It was a fresh ‘Sewer Reconnaissance’ request that had only recently been posted.
My advisor's book had this to say.
[The fastest way for a brand-new Iron-class adventurer to rise to Bronze class is to take a sewer reconnaissance request.]
“…Ugh, fuck.”
I was lucky—or unlucky, depending on how you looked at it—to find the request I had been seeking, so I returned to the reception desk. Several adventurers had arrived in the meantime, so I stood in line and waited briefly.
After waiting a little at the back of the line, it was my turn.
“Excuse me. I'd like to accept the sewer reconnaissance request posted on the bulletin board.”
“The sewer request? Just a moment. Sewer… sewer….”
The receptionist ran a finger over the request ledger on the table.
“Ah, here it is. This is the request for a four-person party with a reward of three coppers, correct?”
“Yes. That's right.”
Fuck, thirty thousand won for a day's work, seriously? The prices in this other world were truly legendary. I had been hoping the request form contained a typo.
“That's a relief. Sewer reconnaissance requests aren't popular, so it was nearly canceled because not enough applicants had signed up by noon today.”
“I see.”
Sewer reconnaissance was exactly what it sounded like: scouting sewers. It was a common request in most cities. I heard these requests were issued by the territory to maintain public order and perform upkeep.
The request itself wasn't difficult. You simply entered the sewers, found areas damaged enough to require maintenance, and reported them.
These requests were mainly recommended to Iron-class adventurers because they were unpopular. Sewers smelled, were dark, and made it easy to get sick. Because of that triple disadvantage, there were always few applicants.
But they had an advantage as well. Monsters tended to swarm in sewers.
The reason that was an advantage was that Iron-class adventurers had trouble building up monster-hunting records. No one requesting a job would ask a bunch of weaklings to kill monsters.
It wasn't written on the request form, but if monsters appeared in the sewers, dealing with them was your own responsibility. You simply had to beat the shit out of them, recover evidence, and report it to the guild.
‘Extermination records were the factor valued most highly in promotions.’
That was why Professor Brammathon's position was that sewer reconnaissance was one option for anyone seeking a quick promotion.
“Once you accept the request, Mr. Nord, we'll have exactly four people.”
After reading the detailed request record, the receptionist continued.
“The other three are a warrior, a rogue, and a mage. They'll probably come before the appointed time to confirm whether the party is being formed, then gather at the proper time.”
“A mage?”
One of our party members had an unexpected profession.
Mages weren't all that rare a profession in this other world. There were a shitload of mages and kinds of magic here. If you paid a little extra, even an ordinary person could learn cheap magic.
However, the people the adventurer guild recognized as mages were at least talented enough to hold concurrent membership in the mage guild.
To put it roughly, they were equivalent to someone with a master's degree in business administration. In other words, they were talents on my level. They were either young geniuses or experienced veterans.
“Why would a mage take a request like sewer reconnaissance…?”
That was the question.
Low-ranking adventurers were practically factory temps at a small business. People who had graduated from a business program at a university in Seoul almost never took temporary shifts at a factory.
If they did show up at a factory, most would probably be there to earn some money between job-hunting activities.
There was nothing wrong with working as an adventurer as a short-term job, but why specifically take a sewer reconnaissance request?
This was even stranger than someone with a master's degree in business administration skipping job hunting to work loading and unloading cargo.
Someone at the level of a mage ought to have plenty of cleaner, better-paying work available, right? The receptionist added a few words, as if my question was perfectly reasonable.
“That mage is Bronze class. They took the role of party leader for this request.”
“Party leader? Why?”
“It's customary. In many adventurer guilds, whenever Iron-class adventurers go out on extermination-related requests, they put a higher-ranking adventurer in charge of the party.”
“Ah. To lower the mortality rate.”
When I said it so bluntly, the receptionist nodded.
“That's right. It's difficult to say, but… when something unexpected happens, Iron-class adventurers alone have trouble dealing with it.”
Whether they were Iron scrubs or Bronze scrubs, they were all equally bottom-tier trash. I had no idea who was supposed to be carrying whom.
“But what benefit does that give the Bronze-class adventurer? Surely it's not volunteer work.”
“It mainly helps with their achievements. It's a chance to prove that they have enough ability to lead a party.”
Ah. So it was like being the leader of a group project. In that case, it was worth counting as an achievement. Dragging a bunch of complete newbies along and hard-carrying them wasn't easy.
But I was starting to feel a little worried.
Judging from the party members' professions, we had a DPS, a tank, and a support. For the balance to work, the last party member should have been a healer. Otherwise, we could go with a melee DPS, ranged DPS, and support composition and recruit a jungler.
‘But I'm the last party member.’
I was neither a cleric nor Tarzan. I was pure physical DPS, with nothing but basic sword attacks honed through weight training and sturdy equipment. The bottom-tier nature of Iron and Bronze players had shown itself in full: everyone had picked whatever they wanted, leaving us with a completely disastrous composition.
The lack of a healer was a serious problem. How could I not worry when there would be no one to treat us if we got hurt?
The fact that sewer reconnaissance was a low-difficulty job wasn't much comfort. In fantasy games of this sort, sewers in the starting city were always hotbeds of subversive forces.
Whether it was vile heretics lurking in secret, black mages conducting human experiments, or thieves' hideouts, I had never seen anyone crawl into a sewer and have nothing fucking happen.
“…By noon today, right?”
“Yes. Be careful, because there is a penalty for failing to show up.”
I was a little uneasy, but I accepted the request in the end.
I did so thinking that surely nothing could go wrong with a Bronze-class mage in the party.