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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Wjin
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After leaving the village at dawn, grabbing breakfast in the next town, and walking for another half day, I finally arrived at my first destination.
“Wow.”
Rows of buildings lined the streets, bustling with people.
This scene, so different from the remote village I had come from, involuntarily drew a gasp from me.
Anyone would recognize me as a country bumpkin at a glance.
‘Well, technically, I am one.’
Basilium, the central city of Basil.
This was the first time I had been to such a large city since arriving in this world.
Compared to major cities like the Leim Kingdom or the holy city of Heilen, it was a modest town. However, its reputation as the heart of Basil was evident in its scale.
‘So, where’s the Basil branch of the Church?’
The Church’s Basil branch was one of the reasons I came to Basilium.
I had something important to do there.
But finding a specific building amidst this maze of structures was no easy task.
The game, being a character development simulation, didn’t feature highly detailed maps.
‘What should I do…?’
Then, a group of people caught my eye.
Actually, it was hard to miss them.
They were armed with an assortment of menacing weapons.
Some even sported peculiar attire.
But the most telling clue to their identities was the cloaks they all wore.
‘Heroes.’
The white cloaks, emblazoned with the Church’s emblem, a cross stitched in gold thread, were identical to the one Gwen wore.
And these heroes held the key to finding the Church branch.
‘Bulging backpacks and traces of dirt that hadn’t been brushed off.’
They seemed to be returning from beyond the barrier.
That meant their destination was limited.
‘I’ll just follow them.’
I discreetly joined their ranks, blending in with the crowd.
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‘As I thought.’
Following the heroes, I easily found the Church building.
However, a sign posted at the entrance immediately caught my attention.
‘Seeking the hero who recently visited Basilia, a village in the northern outskirts of Basil.’
Basilia… My village.
‘What’s going on?’
It was more than a simple announcement; countless copies of the same sign were plastered all over the Church building.
It seemed like the Church was desperately searching for someone.
And there was only one reason why they would be paying so much attention to a remote village like Basilia.
‘Word must have gotten out about the death of the 71st Demon King.’
I had anticipated this to some extent.
I knew that the Demon Kings had some sort of network that allowed them to monitor each other’s status, and I also knew that the Church had spies within their ranks.
News of the 71st Demon King’s death was bound to reach them eventually.
‘But this is too fast.’
The Demon Kings would be suspicious of each other, now that one of them was dead.
That meant the Church’s spy would likely lie low for a while.
However, defying all expectations, they had immediately reported the incident to the Church.
‘That’s one gutsy spy.’
Now, the Church was frantically searching for the hero who defeated the 71st Demon King, a search that was doomed to fail.
After all, I wasn’t a hero. They would never find me if they were looking for a hero.
‘For now, it’s beneficial for both them and me if they don’t find me.’
Just as the Church had spies among the Demon Kings, the Demon Kings had spies within the Church. And not just one, but multiple.
If the Demon Kings discovered the identity of the hero who killed the 71st Demon King, they would target them relentlessly.
Even high-ranking heroes struggled to withstand such pressure; I, who wasn’t even a hero yet, wouldn’t stand a chance.
‘It’s too early for my identity to be revealed.’
While I had defeated a Demon King, it was thanks to Finn’s sacrifice and a well-timed, powerful attack.
The 71st Demon King, due to her parasitic nature, had a particularly weak demonic form, allowing me to defeat her with a single blow.
That was a lucky coincidence; most Demon Kings would obliterate someone like me before they even had a chance to reveal their true form.
‘Therefore, first…’
I approached the receptionist.
“I want to register as a Pathfinder.”
Becoming a hero could wait.
Besides the risk of exposing my identity, heroes were constantly monitored by the Church.
I still had things to do that required operating outside of their surveillance.
“Registering as a Pathfinder? Please wait a moment.”
The receptionist called for another staff member.
The staff member opened a door next to the counter and gestured for me to follow.
“This way, please.”
I followed her down a corridor and into a small room.
There was a desk and a peculiar-looking device in the room.
‘Is that a relic measurement device?’
It resembled the device described in the game when registering a relic with the Church.
‘Not that I’ll be using it anytime soon.’
Both Gravitas Replicant and Night’s Shadow had questionable origins.
It would be problematic if they were returned to their rightful owners.
Relics were generally owned by the person who first discovered them.
However, there were restrictions on transferring ownership. Firstly, the relic had to be registered with the Church.
Furthermore, the Church claimed the right to manage all relics, requiring notification for any transfer or sale of ownership.
I hadn’t reported either Gravitas Replicant or Night’s Shadow. That meant they could potentially be confiscated.
‘Thankfully, with the inventory, hiding them is easy.’
A little caution was all I needed.
“Your name?”
“Allen Flake.”
I gave my real name.
It was safer than using a fake name and risking a slip-up.
Besides, my name wasn’t exactly well-known.
“And your address?”
“I don’t have a permanent residence.”
She didn’t bat an eye.
It was an expected response.
Given the nature of their work, venturing beyond the barrier and risking their lives, a significant portion of Pathfinders were homeless drifters.
“Do you currently possess any relics?”
“No.”
Again, she seemed unfazed.
She effortlessly pulled out a contract from her desk drawer.
“We can lend you a 1-star relic. It won’t be much help in combat, but it will allow you to survive beyond the barrier. However, you need to agree to the terms of this contract.”
I took the contract and began reading.
Pathfinder Contract
A. The Church (hereinafter referred to as “Party A”) agrees to lend a relic to ___ (hereinafter referred to as “Party B”). The relic shall be of 1-star rank, with the possibility of lending up to 2-star relics based on performance.
B. Party B shall pay a monthly rental fee of ten silver coins for the borrowed relic from Party A.
B-1. In the event of loss or resale of the borrowed relic, Party B shall compensate Party A with one gold coin.
C. All relics excavated by Party B as a Pathfinder shall be registered with Party A.
C-1. If Party A purchases the relics excavated by Party B, the corresponding amount shall be paid based on the relic’s rank after evaluation.
C-2. If Party B wishes to trade the excavated relic privately, Party A must be notified and the trade must undergo review.
D. If Party B is found to engage in intentionally dangerous activities, Party A reserves the right to void this contract and revoke Party B’s Pathfinder status. The criteria for “dangerous activities” shall be determined by the branch chief of each region.
(Signature) –
A clearly defined contract that differentiated between Party A and Party B.
However, most of the clauses were irrelevant to me, since my goal wasn’t to excavate relics.
“I won’t be active as a Pathfinder immediately, so can I borrow the relic later?”
“Yes, that’s fine.”
However, clause d caught my attention.
“What does clause d mean?”
“We’ve had an increase in the number of suicide attempts disguised as Pathfinder activities, so we require your signature.”
I hadn’t considered that.
But it made sense. Even a 1-star relic was valuable; the Church wouldn’t want people taking them beyond the barrier and using them for suicide attempts.
“I’ve signed the contract.”
“Yes, I’ve confirmed it. We’ve agreed that you’ll borrow the relic later. We look forward to your contributions as a Pathfinder.”
She said it, but she didn’t sound particularly enthusiastic.
Well, neither was I.
‘Now that I’m registered as a Pathfinder…’
It was time to cash in.
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Thump.
My worn backpack landed on the counter with a heavy thud.
“I have some Barrier Fragments. I’d like to exchange them for cash.”
My backpack was filled with crystals known as Barrier Fragments.
While diligently hunting Chaos Beasts to gather SP, I had also been collecting these fragments from their corpses. Finding my first Chaos Beast was a challenge, as I didn’t know their exact locations.
Anyway, these Barrier Fragments were a valuable commodity, exchangeable for cash when returned to the respective kingdoms.
‘As long as one condition was met.’
The kingdoms used the Barrier Fragments to replenish their Barrier Stones, extending the lifespan of their barriers.
It was the only way to slow down the natural shrinking of the barrier’s area. Therefore, all kingdoms had implemented policies to monopolize Barrier Fragments.
The ban on private trading of Barrier Fragments and the elimination of exchange fees for heroes and Pathfinders were two such policies.
When the ban on private trading proved ineffective, as underground transactions continued, they removed any incentive for heroes and Pathfinders, the primary producers of Barrier Fragments, to engage with private buyers.
That was why I registered as a Pathfinder.
I didn’t want to pay exorbitant fees when exchanging them.
“May I see your hero or Pathfinder registration card?”
I pulled out the Pathfinder registration card I received earlier.
“Confirmed… but this is quite a large amount for a Pathfinder, isn’t it?”
Was it?
To avoid suspicion, I had left a significant portion in my inventory, transferring only a small amount to a separate bag.
But even that was considered a lot for a Pathfinder.
“I’ve been saving them up instead of exchanging them regularly.”
Fortunately, she didn’t question me further.
The exchange process was swift, and I soon held a hefty sum of money.
‘This should cover my travel expenses to Sac.’
My efforts in painstakingly collecting Barrier Fragments had paid off.
‘Now…’
My stomach grumbled.
‘Time for some food.’
I hadn’t eaten anything since arriving in Basilium.
I was curious if the food in the city would be any different.
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‘It’s decent, but…’
I gazed outside the diner window.
‘I didn’t expect rain.’
It had started drizzling while I was having dinner.
I thought it would stop by the time I finished, but now it was pouring.
‘I’m going to get soaked.’
The robe Gwen gave me was water-resistant, but it was stained with so much Chaos Beast blood that I only wore it beyond the barrier.
It seemed like I would have to brave the rain and change into my spare clothes from my inventory once I reached the inn.
‘I should probably buy a raincoat.’
As I contemplated that…
A small figure outside the diner caught my eye.
‘Huh?’
Is that…?
I got up and walked towards the window.
I recognized that figure.
Soaked and dripping with rainwater, ashes streamed down their face, revealing blonde hair that shone brightly even in the darkness of the rainy night.
There was only one person I knew who fit that description.
‘I thought we might run into each other someday…’
Actually, I considered the possibility quite low.
There was only one reason why this character would come here.
Only if they were following the money-making guide I created.
‘Someone’s actually trying that?’
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