|Author: Natsuni Kotatsu||Original Source: Syosetu||Word Count: 3559 characters|
|Translator: Shurim?||English Source: Re:Library||Word Count: 1901 words|
“Welcome to the guild…”
Wearily, I greeted the party at the entrance. There were four of them—all new faces. One muscled swordsman, one gloomy mage, a mean-looking healer, and a thief with a wicked smile.
They’re called thieves, but as long as they aren’t criminals, it’s a job, a class. Their classes, levels, HP, and MP along with other statuses appear into my field of vision.
“Yo, we’d like to take a look at some of the requests,” the musclehead swordsman asked, leaning over the counter.
Why not take a look around before you ask, r̲e̲t̲a̲r̲d̲? I barely swallow the words, and gesture to the window on my left with the palm of my hand.
“If you’re looking for the requests, they should all be displayed over there…”
“Ah, I see, I see! Sorry ‘bout that!”
The party of four slowly turned over to the notice board, where the requests were posted. Now that the swordsman was out of my face, I could see the tables and chairs that lined the building.
This is Luneville’s combined guild office. This is the place where the registration and intermediation between guild members are conducted. It is where job requests are handled and received, and where the completion of such jobs are confirmed. That is what we do.
And so, as for why we have the tables and chairs I mentioned, the guild office also serves as a place to rest and exchange information for the guild members.
“Just do some work, for god’s sake…”
Those tables were currently all taken. It was crowded to the point that there were people standing leaning on the walls while they ate.
We’re not just some bar for you guys to hang out in, jeez.
A middle-aged swordsman sitting at the counter let out a bellowing laugh, enjoying my exasperation.
“That’s jus’ not possible! This city barely has any bars or restaurants to hang out in after all!”
Shut up, you fat drunk. This is the kind of guy that you have to ignore to get them to close their mouth. And so I do just that.
But the old fart next to him also jumps on the boat.
“It’s cheap! It’s good! And to top it all off we get to see a beauty like you, Illya!”
“Luneville office for life! Illya for life!!”
The drunkards bump mugs, somehow even livelier than before. Well, as long as I don’t have to deal with them, whatever happens, happens. But, if the drunkards are right about one thing, the city of Luneville does only have few places that serve food and drink. Well, more accurately, the number of them has decreased.
And I’m the reason. I really am sorry, I am.
…or so I say, but
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“Hey Illya, can you get me another cup!?”
The drunk fart sitting next to the swordsman was the former owner of the local bar. Just a note, but it isn’t because he’s a good-for-nothing that he’s drinking himself silly. The guy ran a bar because alcohol was his passion, but decided to close shop ever since he couldn’t draw any customers because of this branch office.
That was when, upon my request, he used his connections to his suppliers to stock up the guild instead. The man is a member of the trading guild.
And today is the day that a shipment of wine arrived, one that was guarded by the middle-aged swordsman and his friends. We are right in the middle of its celebration.
“So, did that old lady of ours do a good job?”
”Of course, Sesrita’s handle on a knife is superb, after all.”
This time, it was a serious topic, so I did him the honor of replying. He’s actually been a great help, and it would be a big mess if he just quit on me. Not kidding.
“To be honest, I couldn’t be more thankful to you Illya…”
I really can’t be bothered to keep up with this guy’s drunk mood swings. That, and I should be the one thanking him. Not only Sesrita, but also other people who once worked or owned restaurants now work in the guild. And despite the fact that I was the one who drove their customers away, I didn’t receive a single word of contempt.
Talking about the closing down of these restaurants and bars reminds me of a certain memory from my past life. A shopping district I had come to love eventually became depopulated, the once vivid colored streets turning into the ash gray of closed shutters.
Desperate to stop something like that from happening again, I put in a request with the branch guildmaster to both expand the building as well as hire those who lost their jobs.
Perhaps a testament to their warm personalities, they all accepted me… or, well, they asked if they could work here, and are now settling into their newly hired positions.
And that is how this branch office came to be like this.
In Luneville, you can enjoy local cuisines that you’ve never even heard of before. That is what we were apparently known for, and now, it is undeniably fact.
Which is the reason for our current predicament.
We currently make more money from serving as a restaurant than we do as a branch office of the guild. What a joke.
“So, we’d like to take this request, yeah?”
Pulled out of my train of thought, I am once again greeted by the musclehead swordsman. This time, he holds out one of the requests pulled off of the notice board. I take the request and slide it between a pair of thin glass sheets.
“A monster subjugation request, is that right? I will need your registration cards, please.”
“Yeah, sure thing.”
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I take the four registration cards, placing them each on the glass panel. I send a pulse of magic into the panel, and a faint light is emitted from its surface.
The glass panel is a magical tool, and this world’s version of a scanner. The convenient device allows you to check a person’s history of policy violations, rank, their contract with the guild, and even if they are qualified to accept the request.
The scanner finally flashed green, showing that the request was properly accepted, and the light slowly fades away. By the way, the panel flashes red instead if the request could not be accepted.
I confirm that there are four lines of characters on the underside of the request. I also check the underside of each registration card, making sure that the contents of the request and target number of subjugations are properly recorded.
Everything looks good.
What this means is that if anything happens to these guys, it’s not going to be my fault. Yay for technology!
“I’ve finished processing your request.”
I hand the registration cards back to the musclehead swordsman.
“Subjugating any monsters outside of the designated region will not count towards the completion of the request, so please be careful about that… I wish you all the best of luck.”
“Gotcha! Let’s go!”
For a moment, my gaze lingers on their backs as I send the party of four off.
“What happened, Illya? …Don’t tell me, that’s your type!?”
“No way. I was just thinking that it was a waste for them to all go together. With their abilities, they could probably split into two teams and accept another request.”
“Aaah… you could have just told them.”
“That’s not part of my job, so.”
Like I would go out of my way to do something like that. Not just everyone can look at their own abilities in the form of numbers, so there are plenty of people wasting their abilities on simple requests or rushing recklessly to their deaths because they overestimate themselves.
Having someone die on me would leave a bad taste in anyone’s mouth, so I do give a warning in the latter case.
Although, most of those warnings have been in vain.
Well, that is to say that my warnings didn’t work on the person themselves, but the people around me take my words much more seriously.
“You really do see through everything,” Boris said, a wry smile plastered on his face. The man is a member of the mercenary guild, and a holder of the gladiator class. He was also the human who helped me stop some lower level guild members from attempting to subjugate a dragon.
It’s not like people’s feelings or their pasts are displayed in their status.
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“And humble, to top it all off,” Boris added, taking a bite into his beloved fried chicken. The moment after, his attributes for agility and stamina fluctuated oddly in his status. The reason being that it takes extra energy for the body to digest food, and as a result, his physical endurance decreases temporarily.
Unique Skill: Eyes of God, Skill Level: 10
Effect: The status, skills, dormant affinities, state, and equipment descriptions of others will be displayed in detail.
I’m able to figure out anyone’s skills and status at a glance. Grasping your enemy’s remaining stamina is valuable information during any fight. Knowing any abnormal statuses or weak points of your opponents’ makes things even easier.
Well, not that I’m going to fight anymore. I didn’t reincarnate just to suffer again.
My name is Illya Shultz. I am not the corporate slave I once was. I am not Tomoaki Akino.
Since birth, I have lived desperately. Why? Was it because I couldn’t get used to a woman’s body? No, I got used to that in almost no time. It doesn’t really make much of a difference when you’re a child, anyway.
It was because my parents abandoned me at an orphanage out of fear.
I had repelled the humans that attacked our settlement, but was cast aside in turn. I’ll never trust one of those elves again. Plus, the elven village is in the middle of a forest, and the entire place is crawling with bugs.
I’ve hated bugs in both my current and my past life. I probably would have left even if my parents didn’t throw me out.
And so, I needed to find somewhere else to live, somewhere that I would at least be both safe and free of worry. For five years, I left a trail of defeated monsters and criminals as I wandered the world for a place to settle. The biggest reason it took so long was because I spent two of those years learning how to suppress my own cheats. I don’t want to kill anymore.
My final destination was the guild’s branch office of Luneville.
The village of Luneville is located in the Rondoville kingdom, a nation where monsters and civilization rarely bump heads, and a place where few conflicts arise from different races. Their relationship with neighboring countries also isn’t bad.
The guild has almost no chance of being attacked by burglars, and on top of being provided lodging, the pay isn’t bad either. Everything went as smoothly as possible until I got myself hired.
The problem arose when I decided—in order to make a good impression—to cook the best meal I could, using all the skills at my disposal at full throttle.
This is why the branch office is so flooded with business. And so we’ve come full circle.
“Illya, good work today.”
“Ah, you too.”1
- Robinxen: Should I do my usual commentary notes on this one? I feel like I’d be stepping on toes if I did for some reason. Maybe because this doesn’t feel like one of my projects? Just something I’ve been given custody over? Also hello new people! I’m sure this novel has picked up a few new readers who have not read the other stuff I’ve been responsible for posting to this site, though I’m also sure a lot of the regulars from Not Sure, Another World will also be here. What an interesting mix this will be. People who know me and those who don’t. I should use this to plug my little staff page on the site!
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