“What do you mean you met an Itachi!”
The guild lady shouted out in surprise and cowered upon seeing the black fur handed on the counter.
“That can’t be! How can it be an Itachi! There was never one near here!”
Junk scratched his head. Why are you asking me?
“Look just get me the cash for the mission! I solved your problem in the woods...”
“Why!? I don’t believe you! How could you slay an Itachi! You’d die in an instant, you’re just a newly promoted D-rank adventurer!”
“Wow… Calm down okay… I had my friend help out a bit...”
“I’m just supposed to believe you are friends with a B-rank adventurer? No reward this time… Sorry. Not!”
The demonic receptionist gave him a haughty look. There was no way a newbie could even see an Itachi, what yet live to tell the tale.
“Ohohoho. You probably just painted the fur black, trying to cheat! NO ONE CHEATS THE GUILD!”
She pointed to a sign on the side, where red letters on a board read: “NO ONE CHEATS THE GUILD”.
“Chet. Fine then.”
Junk turned around and left, the fur left behind on the counter. In a bad mood Junk, didn’t notice how he bumped into a giant muscular green skinned adventurer, who tried to then grab Junk, but fell to the ground as Junk brushed him off.
His shirt and pants still torn up from the night before, Junk went back to the woods. There he could repair his clothes with his portable forge. In a fantasy like fashion the strands bent and repaired the tear. Junk forged a few spears this time, using the surrounding wood as the pole and then went to get some iron. He mounted some sharp iron pikes onto the poles, hammering them onto the wood.
The process done he set up shop at his usual position, laying down the black cloth.
He sat there, his wares in display and waited for a customer. Hopefully, a rich one would come again and buy everything.
A while later…
"Huh… I guess they don't like spears, huh..."
The adventurers seemed to be busy going about with their paths directed elsewhere.
“Aren’t you an adventurer!?”
“Huh?”
“PLEASE SAVE MY DAUGHTER!”
An old white haired demon that looked like a merchant declared his plea, making his way out of the group of rushing adventurers.
A village bell tolled. Dust rose up into the air, chaos and bustle replaced with indignity of cattle, rushing to hide away from the invading horde. Green demons, powerful arms adorned with muscles and bone alike.
“TROLLSS!!!”
A war horn sounded, the gates broken, the toil of the bell resonating with the stifling of the hearts. Junk sat there in this chaotic beat of madness, his hood dancing in the air.
“Good craft needs no promotion, but it sure helps in sales...”
Grabbing a bag Junk casually rounded up the spears and bag tucked away under his arm approached the tall demons. Flesh joined by steel, a demon fell, the warriors cutting and breaking its knees.
*thud*
It grumbled and stretched out its hand, a skittering of feet before its prey, a warrior in a bikini armor became crushed, her body finding its way into the troll’s mouth. The unholy reaches of the greenish mouth were sealed by yellow teeth. The meat juice flowed along its lip, into the gaping maw that was its throat. No retreat for the dead.
The troll stood up again unharmed, reaching for its new prey. It was morning and the strongest adventurers had already departed, those who were left were either tired adventurers, who returned late into the night or the worst of the rabble that hung around in inns waiting for a quest, that could fulfil their greed. Never improving eternal D-ranks, endlessly farming E-rank quests, all of the earned coin spent on drinks and pleasure.
Men and women alike fell into that category.
The green hand clasped a demon nun that was shaking in fear, her shaking hands clutching the hems of her robe, whole body frozen in fear.
“No!”
The adventurers looked on, the males clenched their teeth, powerless to help. She was already dead. The troll grinned, it was the strongest of its brethren. The ten trolls recently grew too big for the cave, and the old mother gave them the club.
It was always the first to eat and now that the cave was gone, the mother no longer providing, the youngsters would have to find a cave of their own. But first came food.
It licked its lip savoring the blood still plastered inside its mouth. The nun, such pure red looking meat. It brought its arm up and tried to lift the nun into its mouth, the meal was already prepared and did not struggle.
But no matter how it tried to lift its arm the arm did not move. The troll let out a roar and struggled, then fell onto the ground the nun rolling away from its grasp.
“A handy spear… 30 silver each!”
Junk left, leaving the dirty spear behind, still stuck inside the troll’s neck. It was not a time to earn bucks. It was time to farm!
The next troll was more nimble, yet it had a weaker grip. Out of the tree adventurers fighting it, one was an archer, the other a shield bearer, and one was a ninja. They were faring rather well, the only problem was that the troll was healing any damage they dealt and it did not tire. They could not kill the troll and it was only a matter of time before a lucky blow from the big ugly would take them out.
“Practice much?”
Junk geared up with Rasta in his pocket strolled before the green piece of stink. While smaller it smelled twice as bad, and its eyesight was also poor judging by the way it was fumbling around trying to reach the adventurers.
“Anyone need a handy knife?”
With one arm held out before him, Junk fearlessly approached the troll to an arm’s reach. The troll tried to grab Junk but was brushed off and frozen into an icy sculpture. A cast of freeze and droplets was all that was needed. It could still move but it was slowed down immensely. Junk slashed all over the stinky green troll with a knife he crafted a while ago.
The cuts were trying to heal themselves even the blood was clotting. The troll shook with rage and was still looking down on Junk.
“Greedy vines!”
Rasta held out her hands and the troll was surrounded by plants. It tried to break free but the growth had already burrowed inside his wounds. Twenty seconds later, the time Junk used to wipe his knife, it fell down dead, an empty husk.
Rasta felt very refreshed as if she had just drunk a refreshing green beverage. Her eyes shined with a red light, a scarlet glow spreading. It surrounded both her and Junk.
Junk felt newfound strength, the buff was even stronger than usual and filled him with power akin to rage. And so they dropped, dead.
A troll had a club and had already smashed a bunch of adventurers previously, if the dripping blood was any indication. Seeing the meaty Junk its eyes lit up. It rushed club held out waiting in the air.
The dumb greenhorn was an easy target. A blue light shined on the ground, a reflection of the magic circles around Junk’s hand and the ice spread. Junk leaned a bit forward, pointing one of the four remaining spears at the troll and the bumbling troll impaled itself on the pike.
The spear directly pierced its head.
Junk wasn’t kind to trolls, especially when they interrupted his business. But now… They were his business. Three down, Junk saw that some adventurers had brought down their trolls. Three in total.
Four more to go thought Junk, before he ducked underneath a green shape sweeping above where his head used to be.
“D-die! You ran once! But not again!”
The troll reached Junk with its arms, Junk unprepared and unarmed, the spear stuck inside the other troll, was forced to meet the troll head on. Giant green brute arms matched against Junk’s armored gauntlets. Green against silver, the gauntlets shone in the sun.
When two met two, the troll pushed Junk back.
“No! He’s done for!”
The previously saved nun, looking up and noticing the proceeding while healing the injured shouted out in despair.
Junk’s legs caved into the earth and started dragging on the ground, from being pushed by the bigger foe. Gravel brushing away with the soles of Junk’s feet, Junk pushed back. He clenched his iron hands tightly gripping the assailant’s big hands.
“You can do it Junk!”
Rasta cheered him on as he was in the stand off. A struggle between a troll and man, a story for the ages.
Junk groaned and pushed with all his might. He mustered strength deep from inside and pushed the troll back. Letting out a manly yell his strength rising in a tide, clenching his jaw, the troll’s arms were crushed.
It let out a screech of pain, unbefitting of its size. Junk let out a breath his muscles tightening and let go of the troll.
“Yay!” Rasta cheered as the adventurers were befundeled.
A silence reigned as the troll flew into the air. It rose up and up, picking up speed, before it stopped just above the roofs of the buildings. The troll in its fear tried to grab onto the nearby roof, but as it tried to, its broken arms, a crushed mess of flesh just brushed over the tiles and the powerless troll fell to its demise.
But not before landing on a different different troll, the impact pounding both into a fusion of green flesh.
“Yeah… I am so not cleaning… that...”
See ya, Junk ran away. The trolls were all dead already, with Junk handling 5, the other trolls swarmed and ended by the adventurers. A few higher ranked adventurers returned to help just in time.
“Didn’t even get to use the firewall spell this time. The troll had been utterly destroyed.” A catgirl in a green cape, lunging in a shade shook her head, before going back inside the Adventurer’s Inn.
Junk was trying to be lowkey. It was the only way to survive as an adventurer. As soon as you get noticed they send dragons…
Well… he already had that quest. Shit! How much time has it been and I’m still at D-rank?
Need to increase my farming speed.
Junk arranged his hunting and farming in the morning, then in the afternoon he sold the craft he made using the portable forge.
It was the third week since his journey, Junk had already reached C-rank. Well, it was mostly hunting trolls. Also, he made quite a buck selling his iron works. He invested a whole 20 gold coins into upgrading his armor. He added some extra protection, enhanced the fabric as well, however it only protected him against swords and claws of beasts under B-rank. The iron of his armor, however… It was as sturdy as a shield.
Yet, as it stood he only made 30 gold in the meantime and so he had about 10 gold left in his pouch. He also managed to upgrade his saw sword.
Thanks for the chapter!