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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Wjin
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Clip-clop.
Three carriages carrying the [Pleasure Lord] raid party lumbered away.
A low-ranking member of Crow’s Fey reported to Sera Cervantes, the guild manager, who watched them depart.
“Twelve of the raid members have been bribed.”
“Anything unusual?”
“A few of them have criminal records. Word must have gotten around, because most of the regular mercenaries are sticking together. We had no choice.”
“It’s fine. Those gutter rats are all the same.”
“One more thing… it’s a 30-man raid, but… only 25 departed. As expected, we couldn’t gather enough people on short notice.”
Perhaps they knew they would be exploited if they participated.
The number was indeed lower than usual.
And yet they were proceeding with the raid.
Well, it was their lives on the line, their choice.
Since there was a clause in the contract about death benefits, the raid’s success or failure didn’t matter to Crow’s Fey.
It was a win-win situation for them.
“Cough. Sorry… cough.”
The man, coughing from the cigarette smoke, continued after a moment,
“W-we filled the remaining slots with mercenaries. Those street mercenaries are always desperate for work.”
Sera could tell at a glance that many of the carriage occupants were down on their luck.
Sigh.
Was it because she had been chewed out by Regillus?
Sera didn’t want to associate with them.
They were talentless, skill-less, just scraping by, living day by day like… well, animals.
Whether they lived or died was of no concern to her.
‘Pathetic fools…’
For Sera, who was on the verge of a promotion, this was a menial task, a chore.
‘I’ll be done with this soon enough.’
She crushed her cigarette under her heel and instructed,
“Make sure those criminals don’t cause any trouble. Clean it up.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And don’t miss a single item, except for the junk.”
“As you command.”
Sera, who also needed to check on Kaelan’s status, headed for the magic tower that would transport her back to the academy.
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Rattle. Rattle.
The carriage carrying me rumbled towards its destination.
We had left in the morning, yet the sky was already darkening.
‘Being a war hero definitely has its perks.’
The ride was incredibly bumpy, probably because they hired the cheapest coachman available.
It was a stark contrast to the comfortable carriages used during my expedition with Dustin and Scarlet.
Still, I was in luck.
The raid I had joined, by tailing Crow’s Fey’s lackeys, was targeting a low to mid-level monstrous being,
the [Pleasure Lord].
Despite its relatively low rank, it wasn’t a monster I could defeat alone.
First, monstrous beings, unlike named monsters and bosses, had ridiculously high HP and regeneration rates, making them impossible to kill in one shot.
This meant prolonged battles, making a proper party composition and division of roles essential.
I couldn’t just swoop in, kill it, and leave with the loot.
However, I had faced this monstrous being in the game, and its mechanics favored ranged attackers, which made infiltrating the raid relatively easy.
‘Hmm…’
Glancing around, I noticed there were quite a few women in support roles.
“H-hey! T-they failed… f-five times in two days. We might be the sixth… hehehe.”
“… ”
I ignored the gap-toothed man’s attempt to scare us with his pointless lies and pretended to doze off.
“Alright, listen up!”
A pot-bellied man with a thick chest of hair stepped forward.
“I’m Ronald, your raid leader. We’ll be arriving soon, so let me go over the plan.”
… It seemed speaking informally to strangers was the default setting in this world.
He began to explain information that everyone already knew, as if it were some grand revelation.
“Let’s see! Seven vanguards, seventeen mid-liners… and four rearguards. Now, we need to assign focus targets for each rank.”
Focus targets were simply
the members prioritized by the support classes for healing and buffs.
It wasn’t an ideal strategy for minimizing casualties, but it was a necessary one when victory was paramount.
Ronald, who assigned himself as his own focus target, approached me.
“Hmm… you… I haven’t seen your face before.”
-Ding!
True to his pot-bellied appearance, Ronald was an unremarkable man.
I handed him the certificate I had received from the Cooperative office, and he looked at it in disbelief.
“Rank… 2?”
“…”
When I didn’t respond, Ronald, a classic example of a bully, muttered,
“Ahem, sorry, but we prioritize experience… and a crossbow user, a woman no less… you don’t seem suitable for a core role…”
Strangely enough, crossbows were looked down upon, not just by nobles, but by mercenaries as well.
Perhaps because bows required strength and offered faster attack speeds, even without magical enhancements.
Crossbows, due to their ease of use,
were seen as a last resort, a weapon for those lacking strength to pick up when ranger numbers were low.
I responded with a mix of 90% feigned admiration and 10% sarcasm.
“Wow… I guess everyone else here is a Rank 1 archer.”
“Huh…?”
“Back in my hometown, I was considered quite the shot, but I guess I have a lot to learn here.”
“Um… well…”
Ronald looked around awkwardly.
There were no Rank 1 archers in this group, of course.
He just didn’t want to pay me the bonus for being a higher rank.
“Raid leader…!”
A man, seemingly the oldest in the group, spoke up.
“Even so, he’s a Rank 2 archer. Shouldn’t the position of lead archer be assigned based on skill…? Or should we just reveal everyone’s adventurer rank…?”
“Oh, come on!”
Ronald’s face contorted into a grimace as someone came to my defense.
“Oh, look who’s talking.”
He patted the older mercenary condescendingly on the back of the head.
“Old man.”
-Pat. Pat.
“Do you think you can still act all chummy with me like back in the day? You do what the leader says. Stop complaining.”
Perhaps he felt emboldened by Crow’s Fey’s backing.
This was how a little bit of power could turn someone into trash.
‘Does this guy have no respect for his elders…?’
I chose a scrawny-looking archer, the weakest and most pathetic-looking one in Ronald’s group.
“I’d be happy to accept that man over there as the lead archer. He looks quite nimble.”
“Hmm?”
Ronald frowned, his expression showing he wasn’t happy with my choice,
then he slapped the skinny man on the back.
“Oof!”
The man stumbled, looking even more pathetic.
“Alright… Biketz, you’re the lead archer this time.”
“M-me? But I’m only Rank 4…”
“This bastard…”
“O-of course! I would gladly lay down my life for you, Raid Leader Ronald!”
“Cut the crap.”
“Y-yes, sir!”
The man’s practiced flattery made it obvious there was a connection between them.
He hadn’t shown his adventurer rank, so his combat ability was likely questionable.
‘Perfect.’
My workload just decreased, considering the Pleasure Lord’s attack patterns. Archers had a lot of menial tasks to perform during the fight.
If this were the game, I could clear it while eating ramen.
.
.
.
Clink.
-What are you planning to do after this raid?
-Dude, you still don’t know? We’re going to our usual spot.
-Aha!
-Hey, hey! Stop drooling, you little shit!
Jingle.
Every time the group of men moved, the sound of gold coins jingling could be heard.
My assessment was complete.
They were most likely Crow’s Fey’s bribed mercenaries.
They planned to monopolize the loot with that money.
Creak!
Just as I finished my analysis, the carriage stopped at the entrance to the Mirror Forest, the Pleasure Lord’s lair.
Clap!
Ronald clapped his hands, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Here, take one each. It’s a Curse Resistance Potion. The advance team reported that the Pleasure Lord inflicts curses. So, you’ll want to drink this now. If you don’t want to die, that is.”
Everyone followed his instructions,
and I received one as well.
-Ugh, this tastes weird…
As I examined the potion bottle, having observed the reactions of those around me,
a system window appeared, thanks to my Gamer trait.
‘Even Satan would find this repulsive…’
There’s a saying about squeezing blood from a stone.
They were more ruthless than I had imagined.
Not only was the auction rigged,
but now they were distributing fake potions, planning to reduce the number of participants through “accidental” deaths.
This was the mercenary world, a world of constant betrayal and double-crossing.
Just like during the monster subjugation, stepping outside the academy was like entering Gotham City.
‘The academy was heaven.’
I was already nostalgic for the relative normalcy of Clarice.
As I reminisced, Ronald smirked, pleased with his plan unfolding smoothly.
‘Does he have any idea what’s coming…?’
I pretended to drink the potion, discreetly tossing it away.
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ewwwwwwwwww
Now, if Aria or Yeriel was here that potion would have some holy effect or……yandere aphrodisiac, the first trap