There was a town named Trade City Ydalir. It was to the east of the country of Laevateinn, and was an independent city that didn’t belong to any country. It was perfectly placed, right in the middle of all the most influential countries, and, thanks to that, lots of merchants and travelers gathered within its walls, making it a city where money rained from the skies. Adventurers weren’t an exception to this, and, to be honest, this city was where all new characters spawned.
This world was two hundred years after the game I knew, but it seemed that Ydalir never changed, at least in its liveliness. I was just a little relieved that a place I knew still existed.
Yeah, I feel like I can get pretty familiar with this place.
“......Dina, it is very hard to move.”
“Please bear with it. You’re famous. You don’t want to draw too much attention, right?”
I was wandering around the familiar city with a cloak hiding my entire body in a style that could only be described as that of a suspicious person with the dubiousness factor in full force. I wrapped my wings, which were in the way, around my body and had the cloak worn over that so as to forcefully hide my identity. The idea was proposed by Dina. On top of that, the cloak that I was wearing—the one that I came back to this world with—was conveniently equipped with a hood.
Yeah, uh, it’s true that this hides my identity. But you know, looking like this just makes me seem even more suspicious and draws more attention. And my wings are getting in the way of my body, so I basically can’t move my arms at all.
What the hell is this? Some kind of new kink?
“Now then, Mistress Lufas. You said you wanted to earn money for your travels first, but honestly speaking, this is going to be really difficult. After all, your face is too well-known, so it’ll be hard to find work. There really aren’t any people that would consider hiring the Black-Winged Tyrant.”
“......That was two hundred years ago. There should not be that many that still remember our face; this world does not even have photographs.”
“That’s far too naive, Miss Lufas! This trade city is a place where many countries and people gather. Among those are elves, with their extremely long life spans. People like that still remember you clearly.”
I nodded in understanding in response to Dina’s statement.
Now that she mentions it, there were races like that in this world. Or rather, I myself am like that, a cheater creature with a huge life span, most of which is considered the prime of my life.
In the first place, the heaven-winged are said to be a race derived from angels, who were god’s messengers. I don’t know if it’s because of that, but our lives are long, with the average life span being a ridiculous 1500 years. The fact that I still look the same after two hundred years is because of that.
By the way, in flavor Lufas was 275 years old when she was beaten, so now I’m 475. In human years, I was 14 when I was sealed, and now I’m 24. ......On the outside, I look like a 15-17 year old girl, though.
“Especially those black wings. Even those who don’t know about you know what black wings mean. It’s the worst, forbidden color to the heaven-winged, after all.”
“Having black wings is still within the realm of normal, no? In fact, they should be considered rather plain.”
I’ll repeat, the heaven-winged are said to be descendants of angels. Even the race themselves believe this, and because of that they pride themselves on clean, pure-white wings.
It was even said that pure-white wings were proof of being heaven-winged, and among said race attractiveness is actually decided based on the color of a person’s wings rather than their face or body. In fact, courting between men and women starts with showing each other their wings.
Speaking honestly, even a complete fatass uggo with acne all over and the fattest lips with smelly breath and wearing an anime girl t-shirt would be considered a hot guy if he had pure-white wings. But on the opposite side, even somebody with a perfect body and face would be considered ugly if their wings weren’t white enough.
My pitch-black wings immediately place me out of the question. They completely blow away any consideration of my other features; I’d just be treated as a monster.
In human terms......let’s see. It’s like if someone had green skin, no eyebrows, and antennae or feelers coming out of their forehead. Something like that.
It wasn’t even a matter of looks anymore; they won’t even look at you as a member of the same race. Of course, I knew that already, and made Lufas with black wings with full knowledge.
The reason was simple. “Isn’t it cool to have forbidden wings?” ......That was it.
Of course, there was a mountain of other players who felt the same way, and pitch-black wings weren’t uncommon at all in the game. In fact, black wings were actually downright decent compared to some other designs such as golden wings, or a set where each wing was a different color. The worst ones even had each feather a different color. And once you consider all that......well, black wings just weren’t that conspicuous anymore.
If I stand out badly, then what if there was one with rainbow-colored wings here? That’s what I start thinking.
“It’s not normal at all! I’m begging you, realize how special you are already!”
“Ahhh, okay okay. We understand, so don’t yell.” Dina got mad, so I shrugged.
Oh man, so I guess, unlike in the game, black wings are really that different, huh? This is probably going to get pretty inconvenient.
“Geez...... Then, getting back on topic, there is just one job that will hire even you without questions.”
“Indeed. That would be adventuring—or in other words, selling your life, right?”
“Yes. That won’t require any sort of standing. As long as you have your body, anybody can become one.”
Adventurers, people who sold their life for bargain-bin prices. You didn’t need anything special to start being one. Neither money nor status mattered, and even villains or slaves could get jobs.
In exchange, there was absolutely no guarantee of safety. If something were to happen, even if you were to lose your arms or legs or even die, neither your employers nor the organization would take any responsibility.
And on top of that, you’d be considered the lowest in social castes. It was a job for homeless people with nowhere to go or jobless people with nothing to do. A job for the weakest in society, for the people who don’t even know if they’ll be able to eat tomorrow. Those people all started with dreams of making it big in one stroke before meeting their ends instead and dying like dogs.
Adventuring was just that kind of job.
In the game it was easy to do since you’d just revive right afterwards, and such a dark background was just that, background. In fact, almost all players started off making money by being an adventurer, and the number of adventurers easily exceeded tens or even hundreds of thousands.
What about being the lowest caste of society, you say? ......Well, NPCs will curse you out a little. So what? But this is reality. Dying is the end, and cruel situations that don’t occur in the game will probably happen here.
......Will I be fine? This body is Lufas Maphaahl’s, so I don’t think I’ll die, even if I play around a little. But will I be able to stand the sight of blood myself? Will I, who can’t even look at a cat or crow that’s been run over, be able to fight? To be honest, I’m nothing but worried.
“We’re here.”
Urged on by Dina, I entered the building.
It was a slightly dirty bar, and the entire building was made of wood. The first floor was a cafeteria, and there were several tables installed. There were people sitting here and there who I could tell were clearly thugs just from a glance at their ugly mugs.
When we entered, all the men focused their beast-like gazes on Dina. They were probably wary of the suspicious intruder right next to her (me), so no one approached us, though.
“Hm, this air that is the very definition of a cesspool... How nostalgic.”
“Now that you mention it, you were an adventurer before founding your country, weren’t you, Lufas?”
—Hm? Didn’t I say something weird just now, as if it was natural? Nostalgic...... No, well, it’s true this is probably nostalgic...
As I said before, most players started off as adventurers. I wasn’t an exception, and I fulfilled several quests in my time.
But......right, ‘I’ve’ never been to this bar. But I still feel like it’s nostalgic.
Oh no, as I thought, my memories and Lufas’ memories are mixing together a little.
“Welcome. What’ll it be? Or do you want a room?”
“We want an adventuring job.”
“......You for real, girl?” The owner of the place, an inhospitable-looking bald guy, looked at Dina in doubt.
She was clearly thin and didn’t look the least bit suited for violence. It’s true that if she said that she’d be an adventurer, the first thing you’d do is doubt her sanity. But Dina cheerfully laughed in the face of that reaction and said it was fine.