08 – Custom request

It was awful. There was no toilet in the room, the bed was hard and dirty, and the communal showers… Martin decided for his own sanity not to think about any of that, because there was no point in complaining. This place straight up sucked, and from what he gathered from listening around it was expensive to boot despite the discounts they offered to the adventurers for both food, drinks and rooms.

He felt the guild token tingle around his neck, hitting against the stone key of the manor. Oh, he realized with wide eyes, the manor. He had it now, didn’t he? How come didn’t he use it? He forgot all about that, after the scare he got with it but, rationally, using it might be a better option than using the services offered by the guild. By the looks of what he saw while trapped in it, the manor had more advanced stuff than the crappy middle ages state of Topguard. Considering that magic didn’t do much to alleviate some of the worst aspect of a medieval city, although he had to admit that the air didn’t stink as much as a city with no plumbing should stink, the manor was looking very interesting. He only had to deal with the more… scary elements of it, although he was fairly sure he had tamed it now that the ghosts were gone, so perhaps he will be able to see it in a new light.

Regardless, he inhaled deeply while grabbing the last stuff from the small room: his leftover coins and his ripped shirt; today was a new day and it was time to go adventuring. He needed to level up a lot, if anything to have a more comfortable life, plus the almost defeat he suffered yesterday at the hands of fucking graze animals was not to be taken lightly. The coins resonated with the guild-issued token, and with only a thought they vanished from reality and appeared alongside his guild rank in the token menu. Useful. Too bad these quality of life things were few and far between and didn’t seem to involve plumbing, at least not inside tue guild. Perhaps this city was simply too small and unimportant.

The hall was bustling with activity. Adventurers woke up early to go out on quests, gather resources and beat each other to the more interesting quests, making this time of day the busiest for the guild. There were quite a few new faces that would soon disappear, only to briefly show themselves again to get the rewards before holing up in their rooms for the night. It was a sort of grind mentality, that of the adventurers of a town like this, where they only thought about completing assignments and getting out of here as soon as possible. This was no city for gaining fame and riches, but it was a necessary stepping stone in everybody’s path, barring the most lucky born into riches and nobility. But they wouldn’t be seen around here, in a little town in the middle of a mountain range. Not unless something had happened.

Martin scanned the room briefly before going towards the quest board. He noticed that the desk where he had turned in his completed quest yesterday was empty, with nobody manning it. There was a sign that told adventurers to return in a few hours to collect their payments. Luckily this early in the morning only a few people usually turned in requests, those who had gone straight to bed after a too long day and those who didn’t really care about punctuality and preferred to avoid the queue.

“I heard she left town,” rumors were spreading regarding the fate of the middle aged elf.

“Yeah, Boris said that he saw her leave in a hurry yesterday.” Another voice said.

The spectacled blonde girl had seemed from the very first time Martin saw her like the type who worked because she had to, and not because she liked the job. He wondered briefly if this was the case for most adventurers too, especially in isolated places like this, where there were not many other choices for young men in search of a way to survive by themselves.

Martin read through a few of the requests hanging on the board for F-rank adventurers. With a sigh he acknowledged that indeed, the juicy stuff had already been poached and all that was left was a sort of sanctioned slavery market, where farmers and shops requested manual labor for cheap at the expense of the adventurers. While he wasn’t looking for money specifically, his eyes landed on the highest paying job available to him. Just a couple silvers for a day of work cleaning a septic tank below the sawmill.

“Still better than barely half a silver for risking my life against the dezelles…” he muttered.

True, that was because he was weak but…

The other jobs were similar. There was one that looked interesting at a farm outside of town, on the opposite side of where he had been to hunt the dezelles. He remembered seeing fields on that side of the walls from the vantage point of view yesterday.

Someone tapped on his shoulder.

“Martin C. Molotov?”

It was a young boy with a brow hat.

“Yeah?”

The boy took out a paper from his bag. “Here.”

Martin looked at the paper, and reading through it it looked like a normal mission from the guild, except his name was on it. There was a signature below, and a stamp with a little insignia.

“They asked for me specifically?” he asked.

“Yes,” the boy nodded expectantly. “Isn’t it exciting? To be requested by name at our rank! Oh, I’m so envious. Do you accept the request?”

It just now occurred to Martin that the boy was an adventurer. By the looks of his token, he too was an F-rank. He must have been no older than 15. Forced to clean shit and risk his life every day to survive. Or deliver mail. While doing quests was exciting for Martin: even the lamest task like cleaning shit could have a bright side considering that his system rewarded him with exp and levels, he knew for a fact that it was a very depressing reality for most other people. Before they got to do any cool stuff, any exploring and real adventuring…

Whatever. It was not his place to think about society. All he would do from now on was going to be relax, and enjoy the isekai experience. He had a system, levels and a whole bunch of stuff the others didn’t have.

Right?

A smidgen of doubt crept in. The others didn’t have those things, did they?

***

Three figures watched Martin leave the guild in a pensive state, going out the door while distractedly looking at his slip of paper. At a certain point close to the door, they saw the paper disappear and the boy begin to look ahead with a sort of dead eye stare, and while this made Tam wonder what was wrong with him for a little moment, the other two didn’t hesitate a moment.

“A special request, for an F-ranker?” Rudd asked. He was the oldest of the three, and had kept the group together ever since Tam could remember. He was the reason Tam had food to eat, and a place to sleep at night.

“Exactly. Who is that piece of shit?” Ordis asked.

Rudd got up. “It doesn’t matter. He must be someone important, which means he must be loaded.”

Ordis laughed. “We get to eat meat tonight, boss?”

Tamm felt a shiver. They were talking about doing that again. Rudd must have seen him, because suddenly pain flared behind his head, and he had to hug the table with both hands to avoid hitting the wood with his forehead.

“Don’t be a wimp, T. You want to eat or not?”

He nodded.

“Good! You know what? You do the deed today.”

Tamm felt vertigo. He mustered the courage to speak. “W-why me?”

“Because I say so.” Rudd said. He stared into Tamm’s eyes, and he felt his blood stop. “Am I clear?”

Tamm nodded again, and followed the other two out of the guild.

Acts of killing were generally frowned upon by the guild. There were systems in place to make sure that, at least officially, there would be no infighting among adventurers. This mostly applied from C-rank and up, however. Tamm learned that lesson very early in his life. Below, it was a free for all, and in places like Topguard where the guild was already stretched thin, nobody appeared to even care to noticed.

Rudd had always said that it was either kill or be killed at F-rank. And if he wanted to eat, and go to sleep at night without fear of not waking up the day after, then he needed to be the one holding the sword, face smeared with blood, staring down the sharp steel as another life was snuffed out before his eyes. Today he would quite literally be doing that. His imagination ran rampant. What would it feel to do it?

What would become of him?

Would they come looking for him?

Tamm had always thought that Rudd had some hidden method to avoid being caught. But lately he began to think that he actually didn’t have it. Tamm began to think that Rudd wanted to get rid of him, and that killing this man today was his way to do it. He would blame all the killings on Tamm, and clear his name in the process. And Ordis’ name too.

Perhaps the authorities were close to finding them. Even with them only killing and stealing from F-rankers. That’s why they had to move through three cities in the last month, Tamm realized.

He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to go to prison. But it was either refuse to kill, and Rudd would surely kill him himself if he refused, or do the kill and go to prison. Rudd had told stories of his time in prison, before he escaped. Tamm didn’t want to go to prison.

Suddenly, Tamm realized that they were out of town. In the small strip of grass before the forest even began, he looked at the trees and dreamed of running away. He would be free.

But he didn’t. Rudd shoved him at the head of the group, and they walked in a line through the forest. Before long Tamm was completely lost. He didn’t know where he was, and the only other people…

He turned around. Rudd and Ordis… were gone.

He struggled to swallow. Had he gotten lost? Gripping the hilt of his half broken sword, he took a step forward into the unknown and down the overgrown path. There seemed to be nothing but solid green ahead, the leaves and tall bushes making the forest loom over Tamm like a monster.

A rustle. Shaking, he raised his weapon.

“Found him!” Rudd voice came from the bush, and he and Ordis appeared on the path.

Ordis whistled when he saw Tamm, and Rudd laughed. He felt angry. He pushed it down. He could use the anger, later, when he will have to kill.

“Come on. Don’t slow us down this time.”

Tamm ran. He knew what would happen if he didn’t. His legs carried him fast, but slowly the other two were growing distant. He was about to shout when they stopped, and he caught up. He was panting, and the world was soundless for a moment before sensation came back to his mind. After a moment in which all the sound was muffled, he saw Rudd hand him the sword. Ordis was there as well, as was another man.

His first kill.