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Since I’m looking after the dragon child, I’ve been excused from working at the reception desk and the kitchen for the time being. To think I could even take maternity leave… Am I dreaming? Great working conditions aside, we also don’t want the Dragon God to find out we’ve kidnapped its offspring before we can take action.

“Ah, Illya, we’ve found out where those three accepted the commission.”
“Thank you Dajeel, you always get the job done so quickly.”
“You flatter me. Anyways, the party accepted the commission from the Sibaremis branch office. It’s a city in the Southeastern regions of Filaramis Kingdom.”
“Did you find out who the client was?”
“Of course. It was put out under Sibaremis’s branch of the Merchant Guild. As for the contents of the commission, they wanted the Filahounds that appeared in the Eastern Sibaremis Forest to be subjugated.”

The Eastern Sibaremis Forests are famous for producing oranges that are resistant to heat. If it’s for the sake of something of a local specialty, it wouldn’t be odd for the merchant guild to put out a commission even before the penny-pinching agricultural guild.

What is odd is that this party of three came all the way to Luneville. It’s already difficult to imagine that the three of them just walked past Waleville and Fort Earle. It’s even harder to imagine that they scaled the Rondisna Mountain Ranges just to get here.

I guess we’re not getting anywhere without asking the party themselves…

“Pii…”

I hear a weak chirp and glance in the direction of my feet, where a small dragon was slowly dozing off. I guess it’s time for a nap.

“Thank you Dajeel, and excuse me, for bothering you when you’re so busy.”
“It’s nothing. Feel free to bother me if you need something else done.”

Technically, I should be the one getting things done for her, but Dajeel doesn’t even seem to mind. I leave her to get back to work and head over to my private quarters to put the dragon to sleep. After tucking the creature into bed, I decide to head back downstairs.

However, before I get there, I hear what sounds like yelling from the first floor. Hastening my steps, I see a party of four guild members glaring at Ria over the reception desk.

“Is something the matter?” I break into the conversation, and the men flash me their vulgar smiles.
“Oh, it’s nice to see ya. I’ll warn you too, hm? Don’t think you guys can get away with appraisin’ what we bring in wrong, yeah?”
“I did not!”

Ria’s tail snaps like a whip as she says that—god, she’s cute even when she’s angry. I just want to give her a pat on the head. Blessed day. But, as always, there are more important things to do. I face the party of men.

“Are you perhaps dissatisfied with our appraisal of raw materials?”
“You heard me! We had to come all the way back here just because you guys didn’t do the appraisal correctly! For f̲u̲c̲k̲’s̲ sake… You know, I hate to get violent, but you guys have to do your part, yeah? If you lasses would just fix things up for us, things won’t need to go that far.”
“There ain’t no stopping our bro when he gets angry. This branch office might as well be done for at that point.”
“Why don’t you use those bodies of yours to calm our chief down? It’s all for the sake of the guild, right?”

The guy’s lackeys also throw in some empty threats, ones that they’re obviously not willing to follow through. They might not have noticed, but our customers in the dining hall are barely holding their anger in. Any more and these s̲h̲i̲t̲b̲a̲gs̲ might be beaten down by the sheer force of numbers. Subjugated like the dumb beasts they are.

“May I ask to see your receipt?”
“Huh? Why would I have something like that!? I’m the one that trusted you with my goods! But when I checked my account, we didn’t get paid enough! That’s why we’re here, isn’t it!?”

And these, gentlemen, are the worst kind of customers. They come here to complain about a transaction after everything is already processed, and there’s nothing to verify. These kinds of guys are usually repeated offenders, and probably let it get to their heads when they had their way with a different guild office.

And… they’re also the kind of idiots who think they can throw their weight around as long as they’re yelling.

“May I see the commission form and your guild registration cards?”
“Yeah, like I’d hold onto a commission I already completed. As for the registration cards—boys, hand em’ over!”

The men don’t even bother to hand them over, and throw their registration cards over to the counter. It’s not like it makes it any harder to get the cards, but I can’t help but grow even more disgusted with them.

I’ll fold them in half for you if you’re so desperate to break them.

Oops, sorry, calm your t̲i̲t̲s̲. Registration cards are expensive, so you can’t. You can’t, okay? Keep that for when they really start threatening us, alright? …Phew.

“…Please give us a moment.”
“A moment, yeah? Take too long and the office might be gone once you’re back!”

The man gripped his greatsword and swung it down onto one of the counter chairs. The weight of the weapon along with the enhanced sharpness from the Swordsmanship skill pulverized the defenseless wooden chair.

…or, it should have.

“Gah!”

As if protected by something, the chair didn’t even budge at the impact, sending the force back down the swordsman’s arms. The man looked down at his wrists in pain, which were now bathed in cold sweat from the shock.

At the same time, his lackeys’ eyes swam, looking for the reason for their leader’s odd behavior. A couple of people in the dining hall chuckle, having experienced something similar. They’ve probably hit their heads on the chairs once or twice.

“Dajeel, sorry to bother you again.”
“No, no, the guild’s problem is everyone’s problem,” she replied, taking the registration cards from me.

“Illya, is there anything I can do to help as well?” asks Amabelle, poking her head out from the office. As a holder of the Appraisal skill, Amabelle regularly handles the assessment of raw materials.

Usually, she prefers to hang back in the appraisal room, but it looks like even she can get angry when her efforts are being put down. That said, she’s in enough control of her emotions in order to consult me instead of confronting the men. Even if she tried to explain how we do our appraisals, reason often doesn’t work on idiots.

However, with some more cards in hand, things might play out a little differently.

“I would appreciate it if you could help me persuade our troubled customers.”
“I understand.” Amabelle nods, then nod again. She must be pretty angry about what the men said about her work.

The basics of handling complaints is to apologize. Apologize, and make an excuse so that they cannot file the same claim again. But that’s if we were a business.

The guild is fundamentally different. Guild members are customers, but they aren’t our clients. It’s a give-and-take relationship, meaning we are equals, and not just here to serve you. I want to nail that into their heads.

“I found the record. They completed a subjugation commission at our office 22 days ago. They also requested payments for the raw materials they gathered.”
“Do you know what kind of monsters they were?”
“Let me see… Yes, it was 6 Rondorats. They gathered four pelts, five fangs, five tails, six eyes, and 26 claws. There were also two brains and two hearts for each.”
“Claude?”
“I’m on it.”

I barely even call his name, and the guy is on the move. It’s almost like I’m ordering them around, and a little guilt rises in my throat.

On the other hand, it’s easy to guess their level by just looking at what kind of materials they had appraised. Most materials gathered from mouse and rat type monsters are sold to alchemists in the merchant guild or to the mage guild. The most expensive monster parts among them are the hearts and the brains.

Those organs are often used as catalysts by the mage guild, and anyone with a moderate amount of strength will try to carve them out when subjugating mouse type monsters. Anyone who doesn’t probably doesn’t know anything about raw materials. Or, they don’t have the ability to defeat them without damaging them.

“If we look at the market price for these items, whether they were in good or bad condition doesn’t really change the price for these parts, other than the hearts and the brains.”

We all turn to face Claude, who places a sheet of paper on the desk and points out the prices.