His explanation sounded familiar; I vaguely remembered hearing it from him as a child.
“Now,” he continued, “the official requirement for starting out at the bottom, E-rank, is that you have at least one useful skill. By all rights, it’s a pretty lax requirement”—he paused—“but I suppose it’s a pretty big stumbling block for you. Still, since it stands at pretty much every guild in every nation, not just here in the royal capital, my hands are tied in terms of what I can do for you. Sorry.”
Looking apologetic, he scratched at his head.
“I see,” I said. “I guess there’s nothing I can do, then.”
Maybe it was finally time for me to call it quits and grow up. I’d known in my head that this was how things would turn out. To be honest with myself, I’d only really come here to make sure of what I’d been told as a kid.
Despite that, though, it was still a huge blow. Until now, I’d always lived with my sights set on becoming an adventurer. Knowing that it was impossible didn’t make it any easier to change how I felt. Still, the impossible was called that for a reason.
“I guess I really will have to give up...” I sighed, my shoulders dropping as my mind went elsewhere.
The guildsman watched me silently for a while before he spoke again. “Well,” he said, scratching his beard, “if you just want to be an adventurer, then you might not be completely out of options.”
My head jerked up reflexively. “There’s a way?”
“I wouldn’t say there is one...but I can’t really say there isn’t either.”
“Tell me. Please.”
He let loose a small sigh, then slowly said, “As I explained earlier, you don’t meet the requirements to become the lowest rank of adventurer, E-rank. But, strictly speaking, there’s actually a rank lower than E.”
“Lower than E?”
“Not many know about it, even among those of us who handle these matters. It’s an irregular position called F-rank, otherwise known as Novice. Beginner is generally considered the lowest, but Novice is even lower. It’s a special rank that only exists here in the royal capital. Since it has no stipulations about needing any kind of skills, you can register as a Novice even as you are now. Still—”
“I...I’ll do it!”
Before I’d realized it, I’d thrust myself over the counter in excitement. I knew it was childish of me, but still, I couldn’t contain myself. Tiny as it was, I’d just been given new hope.
“Calm down and hear me out first,” the guildsman said. “The important part comes next.”
“Okay.”
“In practice, Novice rank might as well not exist, and there’s a reason for that: skills or no, anybody can register for it, yourself included. But it comes with certain conditions.”
“Conditions?” I asked. “What kind of conditions?”
“That’s the crux of it. You’re prohibited from undertaking hunting commissions of any kind, and gathering commissions outside the city limits are out of the question too. Those are the conditions. After all, if you can’t protect yourself, even gathering materials becomes dangerous. As for what you can do, you’re allowed to undertake miscellaneous commissions within the city. That’s it. In other words, cleaning drains, moving dirt at construction sites, looking for lost cats... Those are the only kinds of jobs you can take at Novice rank.”
“Miscellaneous commissions within the city...”
“That’s right,” he confirmed. “Nothing else. And what kind of person would be silly enough to sign up to be an adventurer, only to do that? Since the Guild mediates the work, we take a cut of the pay. You’d be much better off finding a regular job. The rank was initially established way back when to force the city’s beggars and the like into employment, but ever since the economy stabilized, it’s been a forgotten holdover that nobody uses anymore. The law that created it was established a long time ago; there aren’t even any traces of it being used in the past hundred years. To be honest with you, there are no benefits at all in registering to become Novice rank. So for your own good, just find a regular job and—”
“I’m fine with that,” I said. “Please let me register.”
“What?” He stopped and stared at me. “Hold on, did you not hear a word of what I just said?”
“I did. No hunting, no gathering materials—basically no dangerous commissions of any kind that would take me out of the city, right? I’m fine with that, so please let me register.”
“Seriously,” he said after a pause, “did you not hear me? You know, you’d do well to pay a little more respect to the advice of your eld... No, I suppose you were never the type to listen to what others had to say after you’d set your mind on something.”
The guildsman let out another sigh—a large one this time—and once again scratched his head. “Fine. I told you about it, so I’ll reap what I sowed. I’ll issue you your registration card...but hear me out. You let me know the moment you’re sick of it, all right? A regular job would do you better, no two ways about it. I’ll introduce you to some people anytime you want. You got that?”
Having said his piece, the guildsman went into a room in the back and returned with a small, dust-covered box. Then, he took a pitch-black card out from within, signed it, and held it out to me.
“If you have got that, then take this.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Your F-rank registration card. It’ll serve as your adventurer’s license, more or less. It comes with conditions, of course, but I just told you about those. Don’t go showing it off too much, all right? It really isn’t anything to brag about.”
“I won’t, thank you! I swear I’ll pay you back for this!”
And that was how, by obtaining my F-rank adventurer’s license, I took the first step toward my long-awaited dream.