Let This Grieving Soul Retire! Woe is the Weakling Who Leads the Strongest Party 1

The battle-tested veteran recoiled in shock. “What the—?!”

Gark was human, despite his monstrous appearance. His full name was apparently Gark Welter. He stood over six and a half feet tall. Old wounds and tattoos ran across his cheeks. Veins bulged from his bald head, and his muscles were so healthy and supple that you never would’ve guessed that he was retired. Between that and the weapon glued to his side, he looked like a stereotypical bad guy. Still, he was human—and a great human at that.

Next to him sat his competent and attractive assistant manager, Kaina. She was the beauty beside the beast, though I secretly thought a real beast would be tamer than this guy. Still, he always saved my ass.

“Hey, uh, Krai?”

“It wasn’t on purpose, I swear. I didn’t mean to do anything bad! I just wanted to make sure no common folk got hurt, and I got permission in advance to destroy it! The owner himself said it was okaaay!”

You had to show the receiver that your bases were covered before they could get a word in, so I breathlessly prattled on and on.

Purely because I had no talent, I knew hunters well. It let me see things from the commoners’ perspective. I had paid close attention beforehand to make sure this event wouldn’t bother anyone, even in the case of a brawl.

Ever since I had become a hunter, the skills I’d improved on the most were apologizing, laying groundwork, and bluffing. Not the best skillset, I’d say!

Hoping to come off as pitiful as possible, and with all the drama I could muster, I said, “Those guys really messed things up for me, okay? I tried and tried to stop them, and if you’re gonna do it, you might as well go all-in, right? Tell me, how am I supposed to stop them?! I wish I could, I really do! You go out there and try it, dammiiit!”

I hadn’t been able to stop them, so I’d had no choice but to let them all vent in the wildest way possible, somewhere people wouldn’t get hurt.

Really, I would’ve been better off not making excuses. But I went for it anyway in hopes of getting sympathy. Gark wasn’t actually mad, after all. No common folk got hurt. Also, no common folk got hurt. And most of all, no common folk got hurt.

The Association was strict on hunter impropriety, but they didn’t punish everything. That would be impossible. If they fined people every time there was a fight, the headquarters would be a damn castle right now.

I jumped up and continued to apologize as I closed in on Gark.

Seeming overwhelmed, he backed away. “Kid, you can’t just steamroll me with apologies that easily.”

“All we did was destroy a building! All we did was come up on the front page! Nobody got hurt; nobody sent in any claims! What’s wrong with a building or two?! It’s better than killing people! I’ll repay the owner! I know the guy; he’s really cool, and we’re all good! He’s gonna forgive me with a smile! Damn, do I want ice cream!”

The half-destroyed building was a bar, but they also served delicious ice cream. It was one of my top three favorite ice cream spots in the capital.

After my begging—and wanting to vomit all the while—Kaina finally spoke up, her face distorted with revulsion. “Now, now. Calm down, Krai. Gark doesn’t have to reprimand you too much, as nobody was hurt.”

Each time something like this happened, Kaina calmed Gark’s rage with her “now, now” spiel. It was probably part of her job. Getting pissed and threatening people was Gark’s job, while bringing peace and coming to a compromise was Kaina’s.

Just as expected, Gark sighed. “I haven’t even gotten to that part yet. But all right, sit down.”

Nice! Forgiveness obtained. I wasn’t heaving my apologies all over the place for nothing.

I obediently sat on the big, fluffy couch. My desire to vomit eased somewhat. But just as I let my guard down, Gark slammed his hands on the table. I shuddered at the unexpected act.

He bared his fangs as he glared at me. “Listen, Krai. I didn’t summon you here because I wanted to.”

If you didn’t want to summon me, then just... don’t?

His tone admonishing, Gark continued, “Yeah, nobody got hurt. But not getting any claims doesn’t erase the fact that it was big enough to get on the front page. First Steps is a big clan, and we can’t have the role models for hunter behavior doing silly shit like that.”

What? Huh? Come again?

That was the part where he was supposed to forgive me. The Association I knew would always forgive me there. Again: no common folk hurt! Yeah, we could be tried in an imperial court for the property damage, but we were going to settle it out of court anyway. If there were no claims, then the empire had no reason to act.

Sure, we were in the paper, but these short-tempered hunters were always up to something. Partially destroying a bar was on the tame side. In all his years of being a yes-man and an ass-kisser, Gark should’ve known as much.

If our party hadn’t been on tour right now, things would’ve gotten even worse. People who read the papers probably wouldn’t think any more than “Wow, again?” He said we were the “model” of hunter behavior, but hell nah. All I could do was feign laughter.

I looked to Kaina, and she flashed a wry grin at me. That really got to me. Fine, whatever. Might as well make Ark deal with this.

“Let me guess. Community service?”

Gark just scowled at me.

The Association’s main role was to assist hunters in their vault-raiding exploits, but at the same time, they acted as a middleman for third-party requests. Hunters were stronger than any human could hope to be, so merchants and governments often made requests in hopes of borrowing our strength.

Guard duty, monster extermination, obtaining specific Relics. The difficulty levels and types of missions were myriad, but they were mostly taken by newbie hunters who couldn’t just raid for a living and hunters who wanted to make connections with outsiders. Many of these requests gave few rewards, took up a lot of time, were too difficult, or were assigned by some toolbag. Thus, many of them went ignored altogether.

As far as I cared, it was their own problem that nobody else should have to care about. But the Association had their own annoying circumstances, so they took those requests and pushed them on hunters who showed weakness or caused scandals.

In all of our infinite respect, we called those requests “community service” and avoided them at all costs. Gark was clearly annoyed by the phrase, as his eyelid twitched when he heard it.

“Don’t talk like that in front of me.”

“You used to be a hunter, and you know that stuff’s a pain. Besides, I gotta think about the lives of my members.”

Our clan had its own circumstances, but we were a democracy. I’d only been elected as clan master because of a majority vote, so my authority wasn’t exactly great. As I made my position clear and leaned back with my legs crossed, Gark looked at me in bewilderment. Then, he let out a defeated sigh.

This time, I was the one taking on a reproachful tone. “Now, I’m not saying I won’t take the job. You’ve saved my behind a few times now, so I know where we stand. Yes, I’ll take the job, but only one. Just can’t do multiple. I mean, I didn’t even do anything that bad.”

“Krai, you get better at pissing me off every time you come here.”

Sometimes you had to be obsequious, and sometimes you had to put the pressure on. If you were just scared all the time, you’d be dead meat. That was my secret to success. Of course, I could only do this here because I was confident that Gark wouldn’t kill me where I sat.

He ground his teeth at my uppity attitude and said in a low, menacing voice, “Bring me the thing.”

Kaina retrieved a leather folder and placed it in front of me.

Requests from the Association were practically compulsory, though I had heard of some hunters refusing them outright. Many hunters had a strong ego and hated being tied down. This was especially true for the veteran hunters who could complete these annoying requests.

The folder was really thick. As expected, it had a veritable lineup of community service jobs. I had to sympathize with how many annoying requests they had, but we were a business, too, so we couldn’t take on more than one.

Gark turned his eyes on me, emanating ferocity. “Choose.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

I started skimming through the files. There was plenty of variety, at least. Time involved, the job itself, and the rewards were all different. There were times where the context of the job sucked, too. The best option was to pick an easy-looking one and foist it off on Ark.

I flipped through the pages, but just thinking about most of these jobs gave me a headache.

Ark was one of the top hunters in the capital. His party could clear just about any request, but a hunter’s specialty was raiding treasure vaults. I filtered out requests not related to that and started looking specifically at the levels of each vault involved.

Level 5, level 6, level 5, level 5, level 4, level 6, level 4, level 3, level 7, level 6...

Oh, I saw a level 3 in there! I turned back through the pages and checked the job itself. Yep, this one ought to be easy. Seeing as community service jobs were often awfully hard, it was a stroke of luck to find a level 3.

Incidentally, a hunter’s recognized level usually correlated with the level of treasure vault they could clear. Level 7 hunters were judged by the Association to have the power to clear level 7 or lower vaults.

The Argent Thunderclap himself, Ark Rodin, was level 7 and the highest-ranked hunter in the capital. Understandably, only the most elite hunters were bestowed with these kinds of titles; there were just a handful of them even in the densely populated capital. Although every hunter was different, I figured Ark ought to be able to solo-clear a level 3 with ease.

Between the poor rewards and the long duration, this job was essentially volunteer work, but he wouldn’t have issues completing it. The real problem was that it was a waste of time.

I pulled out the request sheet and waved it in front of Gark’s face. “Picked one. I’ll take this easy-looking carcass-collecting gig.”

“Hey, that’s bad luck! It’s called emergency rescue, not ‘carcass-collecting.’”

Err, what? They’re definitely not alive.

His coming and going was like a passing storm.

Once Krai had left, Kaina sighed. Holding the urgent request folder under her arms, she smirked at Gark. “That boy’s just as sweet as ever. Did you get what you wanted?”

“Yeah, I guess. Actually, him getting carried away is exactly what I wanted,” Gark said curtly, rubbing his temples. The threatening look on his face from before had vanished.

There were a lot of weird hunters out there, but Krai Andrey was the weirdest.

It had been five years since Krai became a hunter. In fact, the capital’s branch was the one that had received his application. One could say that Gark had overseen Krai’s entire hunting career.

Krai had come to the capital along with five friends from his hometown. Stories of kids and their friends becoming hunters because of all the exciting adventures they’d heard about were a dime a dozen. Not many of them could endure being a hunter for many years.

In spite of the harshness of the occupation, Krai hadn’t changed a bit from the day he’d signed up. From his soft, almost-feminine features to his frivolous attitude, and even his underhanded methods, nothing about him had changed as he’d progressed along the path to glory. Gark supposed that was the one extraordinary thing about Krai.

First Steps was one of the most influential clans in the capital now. There were some senior clans that were larger in scale, but they had completed their growth, while First Steps was still growing. The average age of hunters in the clan was low, so what they lacked in experience, they more than made up for with the vigor of their youth. The fact that they were in the news just showed how much attention they got.

Even though he had founded a large clan and was allegedly among top-class hunters, there wasn’t even a hint of arrogance in Krai’s attitude. For someone in Gark’s position, it was much appreciated. Normally, his clan would’ve been liable to leave the Association by now. For a clan that had gained sufficient connections and power, there wasn’t much to be gained from staying in.

In reality, the fully grown clans had more than a few people who wanted to leave the Association. It led to plenty of headaches for Gark, but he couldn’t stop them. Skilled hunters were treasured by the Association. Though he acted flippant and seemed to look down on Gark, it was clear that Krai was being considerate of the Association.

“I mean, he said it’d be easy, but he took the most annoying-looking request out of the bunch.”

“Well, that’s not particularly surprising.” Kaina narrowed her eyes as she recalled the sight of him flipping through some twenty-odd requests and picking one without hesitation.

The treasure vault involved may have been the lowest out of all of them, but that didn’t necessarily mean it was the easiest. Leaders needed an eye for danger, and there had been plenty of warning signs written on the request.

As the head of both a huge clan and the party known as Grieving Souls, Krai couldn’t have possibly mistaken the difficulty level of that request. In fact, Krai had picked the most difficult request on multiple occasions. Was he trying to repay his debt to the Association?

“God only knows what’ll happen. But it’s in Krai’s hands now, so I doubt we have to worry. Attitude aside, he’s got a good eye.”

“We owe him one.”

After I returned to the clan house with a fresh job in hand, I was faced with some surprising circumstances.

“Huh? Why isn’t Ark here?”

Eva answered me without looking up from her paperwork. “A noble summoned him due to the recent Prism Garden raid, I’m told. He won’t be back for some time.”

“Oh, really? Talk about bad timing.”

Ark Brave was one of the most attention-grabbing parties in the capital. It was only natural, considering their leader was a smooth-talking pretty boy with tolerance unbefitting of a hunter. Not to mention his ridiculous strength.

With all that in mind, it wasn’t especially surprising that imperial nobles would want to rub elbows with him. Additionally, he had just cleared a high-difficulty treasure vault. I was lucky to have had him all the way until this morning.

Still, this was poor timing. I had been planning on pushing Gark’s request off on Ark in the first place, so I’d pretty much made my choice on a whim. He was a gold-star employee, but it was pretty annoying that he was such a busy guy.

“Well, that sucks. What am I supposed to do about this community service job?”

“Have you considered going yourself?”

Did she just tell me to go kill myself?

Eva’s eyes told me she was serious. There were some who didn’t think much of treasure vaults, especially among non-hunters. But as I had seen high-level treasure vaults in person, I could say with confidence that they were naïve.

Vaults were, as a rule, infested with all sorts of nightmares. On top of that, at higher levels, the vaults themselves were hostile to outsiders. In the situation that a hunter was lucky enough to evade the monsters and phantoms within, they were still in grave danger.

The request I’d brought back was a level 3, so it wasn’t that dangerous. But common folk could only enter level 1 vaults without issue. Anything after that, and their fate was sealed. Besides, I had pretty much given up on being on the front lines.

“I haven’t been in one in a good while, so I’m probably pretty weak by now.”

“You slack too much for my taste.”

The strength of a hunter was on another level. One major reason for this was the accumulation of mana material. Treasure vaults were full to the brim with thick mana material, and as hunters raided them in search of Relics, they were constantly bathed in the stuff. As a result, hunters boasted power that far surpassed that of normal human beings.

In the act of absorbing mana material, hunters saw an incredible increase in all of their abilities, including physical strength. Sometimes, they even developed special abilities as a result. With that, hunters who continued to challenge higher-difficulty vaults continued to gain strength. But the mana material within them didn’t stay there forever.

The effects varied from person to person, but spending too much time in an area with low concentrations of mana material, like the city, would cause all of the power in your body to disappear. That was why hunters, who spent lots of time in treasure vaults, were many times stronger than regular military.

I was both talentless and weak. Now that I had been away from the front lines for some time, I was even weaker than before. A level 3 treasure vault wouldn’t be that difficult for the members of our clan, but as I was little more than a glorified commoner, it was a hard no for me.

Of course, I also just didn’t feel like it. If I’d known I would’ve had to do it, I would’ve just rejected the offer by any means necessary. Don’t underestimate the weakest of the Steps.

Still, I had a way to weasel out of it. I turned around, humming as I went. Even without Ark, I had Steps. I had authority.

“Well, whatever. I’ll just find some random person in the lounge.”

“It’s not proper to force urgent business on others.” Eva frowned at me reproachfully, but I believed in giving the right people the right jobs.

On the second floor of the First Steps’ clan house, we had a lounge. Sunlight blazed through the large windows that stretched up to the ceiling in this wide-open space. There were several big tables, one for each party we had in the clan. Aside from being a useful space for meetings, less active members used the space to relax. Bars along the walls served simple meals and drinks for free.

The funds came from our membership fees. Since we were taking money from everyone, we couldn’t just line our own pockets with it. I’d directed Eva to use it all up however we could. It was actually a sort of selling point for our clan. You never knew what might bring you unexpected success.

I looked around our beloved lounge and frowned. “That’s weird. No one’s here.”

“Oh, good morning, Master! You’re as handsome as ever. What happened to your mask?”

“It broke.”

It was lunchtime, but only Tino was here. Where had everyone else gone? I walked up to Tino; the poor girl was sitting down reading a book all alone. Despite the fact that I was the instigator of yesterday’s incident, she didn’t seem to care at all.

“I think you look better without that strange mask.”

“I don’t think I’d be able to live with myself if you had said I looked better with it on.”

Until just recently, I had always used a special Relic to hide my face. It was the Reversible Face, a flesh mask that allowed the user to change their face at will.

Most hunters desperately wanted their faces known, but I was quite the opposite. That Relic, which could even change my voice, was the only thing that let me keep my cool. Unfortunately, I didn’t have it any longer, as it had been broken. It was an irreplaceable item, too. Relics were made by nature, so the rarer ones were hard to find and incredibly expensive if you did.

Furthermore, Relics that hid one’s identity from people beyond a certain level of perception were against several imperial laws, so they weren’t circulated in town. Unless you were lucky enough to find one in a vault, you weren’t going to get your hands on one. Now my only option was to shut myself inside as much as possible. I wanted to vomit.

Tino looked around restlessly before fawning all over me like a loving puppy. “Where’s my sister?”

“Oh, nobody told you? Liz and the others are off raiding. It’s that level eight castle again. They said that this time, they’re gonna go all the way in until they bring something back. Might be a while before they return, I’d say.”

If anyone had been left, I could’ve given them the community service gig. Again, what awful timing. There were time limits on these, though, so I couldn’t just wait for them to get back.

Tino blinked a few times and looked at me oddly, but her smile quickly returned as she held out her hand in delight. “By the way, Master, look what I’ve got!”

In it was a certain familiar ring Relic, prompting me to make a weird noise. “Ulp.”

I was surprised. Tino Shade was definitely exhibiting great growth, but she was still in development. There had certainly been stronger beasts than her at the bar. I had seen her take care of Li’l Gilbert with her ambush and take the ring for herself, but she couldn’t have been strong enough to hold onto it for that long.

Still, there it was. My adorable, adopted little sister had grown up into such a beast without me even knowing. Maybe everyone else there had realized it and just left her alone.

“I don’t care about that fake pretty boy’s party, but I couldn’t let any of those scoundrels lay a hand on your ring. Master, I have accepted your will.”

“It’s just a Shooting Ring.”

The Shooting Ring was a Relic that could shoot mana as bullets. Relics came in many forms and abilities, but ring-type Relics were very common. The Shooting Ring was the most common among them, too, so it was even more worthless. Li’l Gilbert’s big freakin’ sword, on the other hand, was probably super expensive.

Still, the fact that Tino got the ring means no weirdo’s going to get into Ark’s party, I guess? Lucky us.

Tino was so excited to have it that I almost felt bad for her. “Value can be found in unseen places. Even the fake pretty boy said it was a fun event.”

“His name’s Ark.”

“Anyway, can I really have this?”

“I wouldn’t lie. All yours, though I feel bad that it’s so crappy.”

“Yaaay!”

Few hunters used Shooting Rings. Tino wouldn’t use it either, but she still cheered and spun around, clearly not caring. She was so easy to please, I thought I might cry.

Tino was my only option now. But she was fine. The treasure vault was level 3, and Tino was level 4. It ought to work.

“You free, Tino?”

“Huh?” She froze and opened her eyes a little wider.

Tino was a solo hunter already, so she had a flexible schedule, but that didn’t mean she had tons of free time. To always perform at her best, she had to keep on training and training. Plus, to raid a vault in comparative safety, one needed to gather information beforehand.

The clan could support her to an extent, but laziness led to death, so hunters were always busy. With all the elaborate preparation that came with being a solo hunter, this was even more true.

To my surprise, my question was met with an unusually broad smile for Tino. “Yes, I’m free! This is, like, the freest I’ve been in my whole life! That’s why I was waiting for you, Master!”

If Liz hears that, she’s gonna make her training way more difficult. Does she really have that much free time? I wondered. Regardless, I decided to take the community service I’d gotten from Gark and foist it off on Tino.

“Perfect. I’ve got a job from the Association. Maybe you could handle it?”

“Huh?” Tino was absolutely dumbfounded. “Master, I’ve never been this shocked. My innocent heart has been broken. Never did I think you were the kind of person to be so cruel. Have I been fooled all along?”

“Nah, no way.”

“You picked me up just to let me down.”

“Neither of those happened.”

Tino hadn’t even done anything yet, but she was already losing the will to go on. Her eyes were half dead.

She laid her cheek on the table and glared reproachfully at me. Then, making no attempt to hide her low morale, she said outright, “To be honest, I wanted to go eat ice cream with you.”

Tino loved sweets... and so did I, although she didn’t know it. I knew this was going to come back to bite me in some way.

“Liz keeps telling you not to eat stuff like that.”

“That was all a ruse. She just doesn’t like me going on dates with you when she’s not around.”

She even called them “dates.” The apple wasn’t falling far from the tree here. Maybe it was my fault for taking her around instead of a proper guard for a while.

I had known this girl ever since I’d first become a hunter. When it came to dealing with her, I would say she was as easy to use as Ark or my childhood friends. Her cuteness was definitely a plus because it was hard on my nerves to assign jobs to people who looked beastly.

I pushed the file toward Tino. “C’maaan, Tino. There’s a big, fun job here just for you! Isn’t that great? Woohoo, lucky you!”

“Do you think I’m some girl you can just use up and toss aside?”

“Looks like someone out there soiled our pure, beloved Tino.”

Who put these ideas into her mind?!

“It was you, Master.”

With zero enthusiasm, Tino started reading the request. After a moment of silence, she finally muttered, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a crappy request, Master.”

“Yeah, totally.”

“The rewards, the duration, the job contents, the difficulty of the vault—I don’t even know where to begin. I can’t imagine who would accept this garbage.”

“Yeah, totally.”

“This must be community service.”

“Yeah, totally.”

Tino glared at me.

Damn that Gark, using me as a trash can.

Had I known that I couldn’t get any of my subordinates to do this, I would’ve outright refused. Things like this were normally given to those at the bottom of the totem pole. Unfortunately, there was no other hunter here for me to use.

Tino fidgeted nervously before coming up with an excuse. “I’m still level four. Merely a newbie. You know I would love to be of assistance, but I’d like to pass on this one. Saving five people alone is just impossible.”

“Uh...”

“I just remembered I have stuff to do.” Tino jumped out of her seat. In the blink of an eye, she was running away at top speed.

That’s a Thief for you. Very nimble.

By the time I processed what had transpired, Tino had already escaped the lounge and left the request sitting fruitlessly on the table. Still, her running away was somehow charming.

Hey, wait a second. I bet she won that ring by just running away after she took it!

Maybe it was Liz’s harsh training that had instilled her habit of fleeing. For some reason, that made me feel a strong affinity for her.

I removed the six-foot chain hanging from my belt and placed it on the table. The item was a Relic, a piece of my collection from when I was an active hunter. This thin, silver chain moved like a snake even without me touching it, clattering against itself.

It was a monster. A chain, but a faithful beast. A fangless dog that swore its loyalty to the owner. As such, it was called the Hounding Chain.

Apparently, in ancient times, there was a clan who used chains. Theirs were magic-infused and squirmed without being touched. They all had their own bizarre powers, with which they supported their clan. They were only history now, but the reason these chain-type Relics were so popular when they occasionally appeared was probably because they were a reminder of that lost culture.

The chain rose and took the shape of a small dog. When I nodded at it, it then returned to its original shape and slithered out of the lounge like a snake. After a couple of thuds, I followed.

“I just want to say that I could have escaped it.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“Your chain is persistent and rather annoying, but I could easily break it.” Tino said this with a 100% serious look on her face despite the fact that she was now wrapped up in chains that could subdue even the strongest man. “The reason I didn’t is that I don’t want you to hate me for breaking your beloved chain. As such, I believe there’s room for extenuating circumstances here. Your thoughts?”

Tino looked up at me with pleading eyes, an intentional act she’d learned from her mentor. Liz really was a bad influence.

The Hounding Chain was silver in color, but it wasn’t made of silver. Items made of mana material were incredibly sturdy. If Tino was certain that she could break it... well, I was surrounded by similar beasts, but she was definitely pushing herself more than the others. Such a feat couldn’t be performed without spending a lot of time in vaults.

“Don’t push yourself too much. Your life is extremely important.”

“You’re the one pushing me.”

“No, it’s obviously Liz. I’m just pushing an easy job on you.”

As I answered, the Hounding Chain around Tino loosened up and fell to the floor. Relics were convenient, but they didn’t come with unlimited uses. Tino ran away more than expected, so it must have run out of the mana that powered its motion. It was incredible that she could keep fleeing from such a speedy pursuer.

Tino rubbed her skin where she had been bound and sighed, steeling her resolve. “I understand. I’m well aware that you’re only nearly killing us because you want us to grow as much as possible, but I would like you to limit the Spartan methods.”

“Um...”

That wasn’t what I was doing at all. It was level 3. A level 3 treasure vault. It couldn’t be that hard for Tino. I wouldn’t give her a mission that endangered her that much. The request itself was just a carcass-collecting gig.

There was plenty of danger inherent in vault-raiding. Hunters took them on at their own risk. Typically, we wouldn’t get emergency requests for people who had just died in a ditch or whatever. But in extremely rare cases, there would be requests to save hunters who had run into some mishap at a vault. We hunters called those carcass-collecting.

After all, the people out there were pros. If they didn’t come back, chances were they were dead. When they were alive, we rescued them. When they were dead, we confirmed the death and that was it. It was rare that they were still alive, but we at least had to go check.

Tino was a level 4 hunter. If she was that against it, then she might have had pretty good reason. At a loss, I looked over the request form again.

It was a level 3 treasure vault, the White Wolf’s Den. It was one of the most average vaults near the capital, but the Relic appearance rate was pretty low. Not the most worthwhile vault to raid. Typically, not many people went there.

A total of five people had gone missing three days ago. It was pretty recent. If it had been from over a week ago, they’d have a very low chance of survival. Three days out, I’d call it a fifty-fifty.

The time limit was one week max, and the reward was 300,000 Gild. This was enough for a commoner family to live on for a month, but to hunters, it was nothing. In that regard, it was essentially volunteer work. But as it was community service, there was nothing we could do about it. I scanned the whole thing from top to bottom with my eyes peeled, but I didn’t see what was so bad about it.

Nevertheless, as I lifted my face from it, I nodded self-importantly. “Ohhh, yeah. I see what the problem is here.”

“Really?!”

“You just don’t want to go alone, right?”

I totally understood that. No matter the difficulty, treasure vaults were a danger zone. You never knew what might happen. Tino always went solo, so I’d just assumed she would be fine this time. But that was my short-sightedness.

I mean, I was running on the assumption that they were all dead. But if I thought about it, it seemed kind of impossible for one person to save five. She only had two arms. How would one person carry five people?

“Huh? Well... Yes.”

Tino glanced around the empty lounge before looking at me expectantly. True, everyone else was busy today. But I had a better idea.

The White Wolf’s Den... Didn’t I hear that name somewhere recently?

Tino was level 4, so as long as she had a few level 3 or higher hunters with her, they ought to have enough power. Today, my genius was reaching new heights.

Tino timidly proposed, “Maybe you could come with me?”

“Y’know what, at the member recruitment thing, there was someone who wanted to go to the White Wolf’s Den. Take her with you. Uh, I think her name’s Rhuda.”

“Huh?”

What about the rest of the party? Maybe the Great Greg and Li’l Gilbert?

Tino wasn’t used to parties, so this would be a good learning experience for her—one might call it the perfect opportunity. She watched on with a frown as I congratulated myself on my amazing leadership skills.