It was noon on the fourth day of Aldora Labyrinth’s 389th season. Meanwhile, inside a nearby town’s Adventurer’s Guild, Walter, the chairman; Satoh, the merchant; and Bison, the warrior were looking at each other.
“This seems to be it for applicants. I believe we did very well, considering the fact that we started in the middle of the night,” Satoh said.
Applicant forms were lined up across the table. Walter was up in arms about sending in a hero, but the council had neither the funds nor the connections to accomplish that. As a result, they had no choice but to recruit the brightest stars amongst the town’s adventurers. These hopefuls were to kill the mimic and retrieve its item.
“But is there really a need to go out of our way and send in an extermination team? There’s only two days left—including today—in the season. It looks like they’ve identified the problem too, so it should be solved by next season. I don’t think they’ll make the same mistake,” Satoh said.
They’d already implemented entrance restrictions, so the problem would be solved by tomorrow. Sure, the restrictions were causing a major loss economically speaking, but it was the lesser of two evils. Sending in an elite team to forcefully end the threat would’ve only bled their funds dry. After all, neither selecting and deploying such a team would be free.
“Are you an idiot?! Why are you satisfied with being looked down upon by the likes of a monster?! Do you really think we’d be able to maintain our working relationship from here on out with that kind of thinking?!” Walter yelled. He was getting on in years, but he was still as lively as ever.
“Indeed, our chairman has a point. The season may almost be over, but we need to take our relationship to the dungeon hereafter into account. We suffered heavy losses, so they need to be held accountable. If we simply let them slide because there was no violation of the regulations, they might try the same thing again in the future. We must not allow this to happen again. In order to ensure that, we need to show them our position on the matter, as well as our willingness to enforce it,” Bison said in a grave tone.
These three were the pillars of the council. Although such a position may have sounded lofty and important, the truth was that they were simply the only three who ever showed up. No one else liked these kinds of debates.
“But the whole reason that mimic is going on a rampage is because some adventurer gave it an item. At least, that’s what seems to be the case...” Satoh muttered.
“Even so, we can’t just afford to let the mimic—who’s the one massacring our adventurers—go, right? Our losses are astronomical. If you were told that this was all just because of an item, would you be okay with that? I wouldn’t. If we allow the season to end, then the monsters will be moved to new places. If we’re going to kill it, then it has to be now.”
“Not to mention the item’s already in the monster’s possession, even if we aren’t sure who was responsible for giving it to them. In other words, if we were to kill them, then the legendary item would be ours! Think of the huge profits!”
“Old man...what’s with the villainous look?” Satoh asked, a little creeped out by Walter’s evil expression.
Although the adventurers were also tasked with retrieving the mimic’s item, they would only be rewarded with money.
“Still, these were all we got?” Walter asked.
“This is still a lot.”
“Indeed. We ought to focus on quality, not quantity—if we were to simply rely on numbers, there would be several casualties in the inevitable explosions. This should be done by a small team of elites,” Bison noted.
“Elites, huh? I see. These applicants look rather strong, but...um, did we really have people like this in town?” Walter tilted his head in confusion.
“Well, adventurers tend to travel a lot. It would be rarer to find ones who stay in one place a long time.”
“Right... Well, we have George, the Severing Sword; Saygo, the Iron Sand; Norton, the Polar Star; Mackenzie, the Dirty Thief; and Holcomb, the Lightly Armored. They’re all famous adventurers!” Bison exclaimed.
“Wait a second—wasn’t there a weird one in there?”
“Dirty thief just means he’s just a criminal, doesn’t it? No, wait...saying that puts the entire thief class into question...”
He looked at the photo attached to the profile sheet. Mackenzie was hiding his face with a cloth, making the picture absolutely useless.
“Wait, this Holcomb guy...he’s topless!”
Sure enough, Holcomb’s photo featured a full-faced smile and his bare upper half. The council members could only pray that he was wearing something below.
“Lightly armored?! He’s not armored at all!”
“Yeah... He’s famed for fighting with only his body.”
Satoh paused, a terrible premonition welling up inside him, and muttered, “Could it be...we didn’t get any decent applicants at all?” He looked over the applications once again. Now that the idea had gotten into his head, all of them had begun to look more and more suspect. “W-Well, I’m just thankful that they applied. The reward we posted isn’t exactly worth the risk they’re taking on, after all.”
Maybe we only got the eccentrics and weirdos because we tried to scrimp too much on the rewards, Satoh thought to himself. He couldn’t help but feel a little regretful.
“There were no applications from any heroes?” Walter asked.
“Why would there be? There aren’t even any heroes in a small town like this to begin with! And even if there were, we wouldn’t be able to afford them!”
“You’re wrong—there is a hero in this town,” Bison said, looking like he’d chewed on something bitter. “Johannes told me about it, and he is trustworthy.”
“Thought so!” Satoh retorted.
“Ohh, then we might get a hero after all!”
“Even if there are heroes around, I don’t think they’d come for this... Could something be done about that, Bison?”
“Well, I do have one connection to a hero...”
“What?! Then why didn’t you say so earlier?!”
“Wait, really?! Oh, but I’m sure that...”
“I know a man named Azuratt. His strength is almost entirely unknown, but he’s a thief who’s accompanied many heroes in their parties.”
“Not Johannes?! I was sure from the way the conversation was going—”
“What are you talking about? Johannes is very good, but he’s only silver ranked. He’s not strong enough to accompany heroes on their adventures.”
There were a total of eight adventurer ranks—excluding heroes, who were another category entirely. These ranks, from highest to lowest, were as follows: platinum, gold, silver, iron, copper, bronze, wood, paper. Only those of platinum class would be able to keep up with a hero.
“Now that you mention it, he returned after being almost done in by the mimic. He wouldn’t be that strong, huh?”
“Indeed. He was able to instantly identify the safest place to shelter in the middle of overlapping explosions and the resulting shock waves. Even then, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to escape unscathed, so he concentrated all his aura to his head and a single arm so that he could use an item. He only barely survived by sacrificing the rest of his body. If you want to say that, then you’d be right...”
“No, he’s plenty amazing! What kind of split-second decision-making skills and guts does someone need to have to be able to do that?!”
“So, will this Azuratt guy—or whatever his name is—introduce us to a hero? He wouldn’t think to charge us money for it, would he?”
“Of course he would. Having a connection to a hero—let alone several—is very valuable, you know? Who wouldn’t use that for profit?”
“No, he’s not that motivated by money, actually. His area of interest lies only in women’s legs.”
“That, um...that seems like it’d be trouble in another sense entirely... Well, why not try giving him a call, at least?”
“I did. He should be here soon.”
With perfect timing, a single man entered the meeting room.
“Well met, Azuratt. Thanks for coming this late.”
Azuratt was a slim man with eyes that barely opened past slits. It wasn’t clear just from his outward appearance whether he was strong or not—he didn’t seem to be the type to put out an oppressive aura.
“I don’t mind. I heard you wanted me to put you in touch with a hero? Did you mean right away?”
“Yes. They would need to be in the dungeon by tomorrow at the latest.” Bison relayed a simplified version of what had happened so far in the dungeon.
“I understand the situation. If you need someone who’s in this town and can sortie immediately, that would be Deimos, the Lion’s Blade, but...” Azuratt responded vaguely.
“What, is there something wrong?” Walter pressed.
“He’s actually en route to another labyrinth and just happened to stop by this town. Unless you’re willing to really grease the wheels, I don’t think you’ll be able to hire him.”
“Ahh... Would it be all right to at least talk to him about it? Would that be acceptable to you too, chairman?”
“Y-Yeah. He might be some eccentric who’d help us anyway for some reason...”
“I’d suggest putting yourself in his shoes and asking the same question first,” Satoh remarked snidely. Unfortunately for him, his retort hadn’t seemed to have gotten through to the optimistic chairman.
“Understood. Then I’ll get to it,” Azuratt said before leaving.
“Oh,” Walter said after a pause. “That was anticlimactic. You were saying stuff about his love for women’s legs, so I thought he was gonna give us some sort of ridiculous condition.”
“I thought so too. But I wonder about him not asking for anything at all... My merchant’s instincts are saying there’s something suspicious going on.”
Right after Azuratt left, the applicants for the extermination force arrived.