Chapter 69: A Simple Job
The clean clothes felt like a lie. The grime was gone from my skin, but the System's verdict was a new kind of filth I couldn't wash off. SURVIVAL PROBABILITY: 11.7%. The number glowed, a persistent, blood-red ghost at the edge of my sight, mocking the concept of freedom.
I needed to move. To do something, anything, to make that number climb, even by a fraction of a percent. The guild was the only answer.
The common room was less crowded than usual, the post-invasion exhaustion still keeping many at home or on duty. And there she was, behind the counter like a constant in a shifting world. Gwen. Her red hair was a splash of color in the muted hall.
I approached, the usual swagger dampened by the weight of my own mediocrity.
"Well, look what the griffin dragged in," she said, a familiar, wry smile playing on her lips. "Heard you finally decided to take a bath. The city thanks you."
"Figured I'd stop scaring the children," I said, leaning on the counter. The wood was solid, real. A good anchor. "Listen, about that drink... and the, uh, coitus... I'm still planning on collecting. But I need to get out of this city for a bit first. Clear my head. You got anything simple? Courier work, pest control? Something that gets me on the road for a week. D or C-Rank."
Her eyebrow arched. "C-Rank? Someone's feeling ambitious. You're only a recent D-Rank remember? You've only been with the Guild just over a month. It is very rare that a Rookie such as yourself gets promoted this fast. Let's see..." She turned to the massive board behind her, scanning the posted parchments.
Right, I may have forgotten to mention it but I was promoted after the Invasion. It was mostly due to my actions during the invasion. Surprisingly the Iron Fangs vouched for my usefulness and the Guild Officials took on other witnesses of my exploits. I have gained a bit of a reputation because of that. Another reason I want to get out of the city for a while. So anyway back to Gwen. As she did, my attention drifted to a nearby table where two dust-covered merchants were slumped over their tankards.
"...a total loss, I tell you," one muttered, his voice raspy. "The Silveridge run is cursed. Bandits hit us just past the Pass. Knew exactly which wagon carried the refined ore."
"Since when do cutthroats have a battle mage?" his companion grumbled, slamming his fist softly on the table. "Shattered our axle with a fire lance. Clean, professional hit. Doesn't make sense. It's like someone's paying them to strangle our shipments."
Organized. A mage. The words clicked into place in the back of my mind. This wasn't random chaos. It was a symptom of the same sickness. Probably some noble clan playing both sides.
Gwen turned back, slapping a quest slip down on the counter. "Here. C-Rank. Escort duty for a merchant caravan to Silveridge. Five-day round trip. Pay is decent. Low risk, high boredom. Perfect for a... recovering hero." Her tone was light, but her eyes were sharp, assessing the change in me.
I picked up the parchment. It was just paper, ink, and the official guild stamp. No System pop-up, no digital confirmation. This was the real world. Meaning I won't get some random shit mission from the system. Just a normal quest from the guild.
"When do I leave?" I asked, folding the slip and tucking it into my new vest.
"You can meet the merchant somewhere up west, forgot the restaurant's name but just head to the west gate and you will see it. Caravan assembles at the north gate at first light. Don't be late. The merchant, Laron, is a stickler for punctuality." She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping. "And between you and me? He's a prick. But he pays on time."
"Wouldn't dream of it," I said, pushing off the counter. The plan was set. A week away from the politics, the memories, and Freya's complicated glare. A week to train, to push my Ki without the pressure of a city watching, and to maybe, just maybe, push that damned number up.
"Kaizen," Gwen said, her voice softening. "Try not to do anything stupid out there."
I gave her a grin that felt more real than it had in days. "When have I ever done anything stupid?"
She rolled her eyes, but a genuine smile broke through. "Just come back in one piece. Dead men are terrible for... business."
"Trust me," I said, my gaze lingering on her for a moment. "I've got every intention of collecting what I'm owed."
I walked out of the guild, the 11.7% a stark reminder of the stakes. The quest slip in my pocket was just a job. But the road out of Torak? That was my training ground. I wasn't just going for a walk. I was going to war with my own statistical insignificance. And I had five days to win.
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The north gate was for soldiers and rubble. The east gate was for commerce, or what was left of it. The restaurant was a modest place called The Traveler's Respite, clinging to the inner wall like a stubborn barnacle, its sign freshly repainted but its walls still scarred from the fighting.
I spotted them immediately. They were like a painting of "Innocence Abroad" in a world that chewed up innocence and spat out bones.
The merchant was a rabbit demihuman, barely pushing twenty. His fur was a soft, well-groomed grey, and his long ears twitched nervously as he scanned the room. He wore simple but finely made clothes, free of the gaudy embroidery most merchants favored. Across from him sat his assistant. Or maybe his bodyguard. It was hard to tell. She was human, blonde, and built like she'd been sculpted by a god with a very specific appreciation for the female form. Her arms were crossed over a chest that was frankly impressive, and her blue eyes tracked me with open suspicion from the moment I walked in.
"Laron?" I asked, stopping at their table.
The rabbit demihuman stood up, a gesture that was surprisingly graceful. "Yes! You must be the adventurer from the guild. Kaizen, was it? Please, sit." His voice was young, but earnest.
The blonde didn't move, her gaze a physical weight. "He doesn't look like much," she stated, her voice a cool contralto. "Are you sure the guild sent him, Laron? He looks more like a street thaan than a C-Rank."
"Briza, please," Laron said, a faint blush visible under his grey fur. He gave me an apologetic look. "My apologies. My partner is… protective."
"Partner," Briza clarified, her eyes still locked on me. "Not assistant."
"Noted," I said, sliding into a seat without waiting for an invitation. "You wanted an escort, not a fashion model. So, let's talk about the five-day trip to Silveridge."
Laron nodded eagerly. "Yes. We have a meeting with a very important client. I deal in ethically sourced artisan crafts, tribal weavings from the eastern plains, spirit-carved wood from the Edelmere fringe. My clients appreciate provenance, not just product." He said it with a pride that was almost endearing.
Briza leaned forward, the movement drawing the eye. "The guild contract is for five days. That covers the round trip journey. But our business in Silveridge will take two additional days. We need security during that time as well. Weaving a deal is a delicate process; it requires a safe environment."
I leaned back, crossing my arms. "So you need me for seven days, not five. The guild isn't going to like that. They get a cut of the five-day fee. You're asking me to work two days off the books."
"It's more efficient for everyone," Laron said, his ears drooping slightly. "We avoid the guild's administrative fees for a contract extension. We would, of course, compensate you directly for the additional time. We can negotiate a fair rate."
Briza's lips tightened. "Assuming you're competent enough to be worth it. The roads are dangerous. We've heard stories. Bandits with mages."
"I've heard the stories too," I said flatly. "That's why you're paying for a C-Rank, not trying to haggle with a couple of E-Ranks. So, let's negotiate this 'fair rate'. The guild is paying me twenty-five gold for the five days. For two extra days of personal security in a city that, from what I hear, is getting a bit lawless… that's another fifteen gold. Total of forty, with ten paid upfront now, off the books." Though I was still only a D-rank. They didn't need to know that.
Laron's eyes widened. "Fifteen for two days? That's… that's a higher daily rate than the guild's!"
"You're not paying for my time," I said, my voice dropping. "You're paying for my attention. You're paying me to care about your 'ethically sourced' trinkets for two extra days when I could be back here, spending my gold. You're paying for the risk that one of those bandit mages decides to follow you into the city. That's the price."
Briza looked like she'd swallowed something sour. "You're arrogant."
"And you're desperate enough to hire a 'street thaan'," I shot back, meeting her glare. "Do we have a deal or not? I've got a bath to get back to."
Laron let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Very well. Forty gold total. Ten now." He reached into a pouch at his belt and carefully counted out ten gold coins, sliding them across the table.
I palmed the coins, and with a focused thought, willed them into my Inventory. To them, it just looked like a smooth, practiced sleight of hand. The weight vanished from my palm.
Briza's eyes narrowed, catching the movement but not understanding it. "Fine. North gate. First light. Don't be late."
"Wouldn't dream of it," I said, standing up. I gave Laron a nod. "Pleasure doing business." I ignored Briza's simmering glare.
As I walked out of the Respite, the ten gold were secure in my hidden pocket dimension, and the 11.7% still glowed in my vision. But now I had a plan, a destination, and a paycheck. It was a start. First up… supplies.
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