Project GB is an official initiative by Re:Library.

“By the way, what kind of requests were there?”

After hanging the license we’d received around my neck, I asked that. Noche and the others made slightly troubled faces.

“…Kinda meh, nya.”
“Um, things like cleaning, running errands…”
“Ah.”

G-rank is the lowest rank for adventurers. Or rather, it’s basically apprentice level.

What you can do, what you’re good at, what kinds of requests you can handle… it’s a period for the guild to check all that.

When we asked Linda about it, she confirmed that while basically anyone can register, you don’t get any special privileges or authority.

One thing I didn’t know: normally there’s an age limit of 15 to advance to F-rank or above, but depending on achievements, you can go up to D-rank even if you’re under 15.

For C-rank and above, if an emergency that the guild recognizes occurs, you’re required to cooperate in resolving it in the form of a compulsory request. Apparently this is the minimum obligation adventurers must fulfill in exchange for their freedom, and refusing means quitting the Adventurers’ Guild.

It hardly ever happens, but this rank restriction exists to keep children from being dragged into emergencies. For us, that’s actually a relief.

So, with Sufi carrying me on her back, we check the G-rank requests posted on the board. You can ask at the counter, but everyone can read to some extent.

“Ditch cleaning, one large copper coin per day… helping clean a house, one large copper coin… helping with transport, eight copper coins…”

If a four-person party works efficiently, that’s about three to four large copper coins a day. I’m completely dead weight for that, though.

“Um, if we do them separately… about three large copper coins a day?”

Filia counts on her fingers. Considering prices in town… the cheapest stable-type lodging is three copper coins, bread and water is two copper coins. If you work seriously as an apprentice, you can live and even save money… if you cut expenses to the limit.

Most adventurers spend all of that plus another large copper coin on alcohol and such, though. Can’t blame them—giving up entertainment is hard.

“That’s quite a lot, nya. By the way, how much do you make in a day right now, Alice?”
“Um… the first repair job was an exception… on average…”

It’s basically piecework. What I do is repair small items and brew mid- to high-grade potions. Since the facilities are good and I can save a lot of mana thanks to the lantern, I can make quite a number.

But I only work one to two hours a day—my body can’t handle more than that.

“It varies, but two to four silver coins a day.”
“How many large copper coins is that, nya?”
“Twenty to forty.”
“Just by going a little in the morning, nya?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I slap you, nya?”
“No.”
“Don’t!!”

For some reason Noche snaps, and Sufi—who’s holding me—keeps me away from her.

“You’re making crazy money while stuck weak and bedridden, and you expect me to go out there and work my bones off, nya!?”
“That’s unfair…”

Even if she says that, we need to build achievements and raise our rank to get full licenses, and it’s convenient to have… And alchemy is something I worked hard for.

“I’ll earn our money, so you guys raise our ranks.”
“…I don’t know, nya.”
“Um, excuse me…”

While we were lightly arguing, Linda came out from the counter. There was still no one else around, but maybe we were being noisy.

“Actually, there’s a simple training session for rookies and apprentices after this… would you like to join?”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. I asked the instructor earlier, and he said it would be fine…”

She answers Sufi with a wry smile. Right, letting us go without checking could cause trouble.

“What do you say?”
“Then we’ll join!”
“I’m the leader, nya! We’re joining, nya!”

With Sufi’s energetic reply, it was decided that we’d participate in this so-called simple training.

It seems active adventurers teach newcomers combat techniques and such, so for us—who are worried about that side of things—it’s extremely welcome.

■■■

“Yo, I’m you guys’ instructor, name’s Bar—.”
“Hey! Why the hell are there demi-beasts in a place like this!?”

The venue was a plaza behind the guild. As we entered the training already in progress, a chubby boy in unusually nice clothes raised his voice, cutting off the instructor.

His cheek’s twitching… is he okay?

“…I’m the instructor.”
“If you’re here, the place will stink of beasts! Go home!”

When the man tried to speak again after a short pause, he was interrupted once more, and a vein popped on his forehead. His messy hair and eyes are bright orange, he’s tall and slender, and he wears a rather long sword at his waist… an easterner, maybe?

The boy, on the other hand, is a westerner with short dark-brown hair and eyes. Am I starting to tell them apart by attitude alone now?

“…………”
“Huff, huff!”
“…I’m the instr—”
“Why are you keeping quiet, you demi-beasts!? Can’t you obey my orders!?”
“That’s enough, you little s̲h̲i̲t̲!”

Ah, he snapped.

“…Is this a skit, nya?”

By the way, this world does have concepts like comedy duos and skits. Street performers do them, and they’re sometimes shown on stage. Not mainstream entertainment, though.

It’s been over a month since we left the village—stuff like this doesn’t even make me angry anymore.

“Don’t worry about him. He won’t be coming for long anyway.”

The one who said that was a group of boys with similar westerner-looking hair colors. They’re a bit older than us—two boys and two girls. I don’t sense hostility or malice from them. Their neutral attitude actually surprises me a little.

There are also other groups of similar-aged westerners, and some groups of older guys too.

…The older group over there might be trouble.

“He’s the butcher’s son…”
“Vade’s got a terrible personality, no guts, he stinks, nobody likes him, he’s stupid, he stinks, he’s a coward, he stinks, I can’t stand him on a biological level, total trash.”
“You’re going too far!”

One of the girls—a gentle-looking girl with neat features and light-brown hair braided into pigtails—spits out those vicious words.

The well-dressed chubby boy… Vade the butcher’s son is almost in tears.

“First of all, you keep saying I stink, but those guys stink way more like animals, don’t they!?”
“We don’t discriminate just because they’re beast-folk, and besides, they don’t smell beastly at all—”

Personally, I can’t quite call his words a total lie. With animal ears and tails, if you don’t bathe for a while, you really do start to smell beast-like.

Well, thanks to Apartment 404 we do bathe, but… crap.

“Sufi, move away.”
“…Huh? Wow, something smells really nice.”
“Wha!? What the hell are you talking about! Orphanage kids like you don’t know anything—!”

Too late. The braided girl must have caught the scent of soap drifting over and closed the distance. The butcher’s kid is yelling something at her, but she doesn’t even seem to notice him anymore.

“Huh? No way? You smell like soap?”
“Your imagination, right, Sufi?”
“Yeah, must be your imagination, right, Alice?”

Using shampoo even though it was just ears and tail was a mistake. We should’ve just rubbed ourselves with hot water.

“Wait, wait, how could you smell so good? Tell me!”
“More importantly—”

To distract the fashion-curious girl, I point at the instructor, who’s been radiating anger for a while now.

“Shouldn’t we listen to what he has to say?”
“…Yo, damned brats. Let me introduce myself properly.”

The instructor—who was on the verge of being forgotten—grips the sword at his waist, a vein still bulging on his forehead. The blade slides out with a metallic sound, well-used and giving off a dull gleam.

“I’m Barnaby, acting instructor. First, I’ll face you one by one to check your abilities. Don’t worry—I’m C-rank, so come at me with everything you’ve got. I’ll hold back properly.”

—Except for you.

Those unspoken words hang in the air as Instructor Barnaby glares at the butcher’s son. As if under intimidation, the boy’s ample flesh starts to tremble.

My first time meeting a C-rank adventurer, and he’s… surprisingly immature.