Published at 29th of July 2019 2:17 am

Volume 1, Chapter 003 - There are good people, too. We'll make it somehow.

This chapter is updated by NovelFree.ml

Flum and Milkit hold hands as they walk through the town. They don’t have anywhere to go, so for the time being they’ve decided to just get as far away from that basement as they can.

Simply walking is enough to attract a lot of cold looks from passersby. The two girls’ faces are thin, their hair is messy, they’re wearing long cloaks and on top of that the two of them are clearly slaves. The sight of them holding hands alone is more than enough to pique interests --- but Milkit’s short stature, her being with Flum, and her bandage-wrapped face provide more than enough food for thought.

Regardless, Flum wonders if people really need to intentionally bump into them, sniggering.

“Hey, Milkit. Are slaves always treated like this?”

Flum asks Milkit as they thread their way through the crowd.

Milkit cocks her head to the side.

“What do you mean, ‘like this?’”

That response alone is enough. Just a moment ago someone had tried to trip her and almost sent her sprawling, but judging from her reaction this much unwarranted abuse is perfectly normal to her.

Anyone can torment a slave however they please --- in fact, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say they exist for that precise purpose.

Flum subconsciously touches her face with her free hand, feeling the ridges on her face that aren’t supposed to be there. Even if the rest of her wounds healed themselves, the special dye in the slave mark will ensure that it'll never fade.

A full week has passed since the branding and it’s still painful to touch, but the psychological damage is far worse than the physical.

“Master, are you hurting anywhere?”

Noticing the dark expression on Flum’s face, Milkit asks with obligatory concern.

“I was just feeling the whole I’m-a-slave-now thing all over again is all.”

“...?”

Milkit tilts her head to the side again.

It’s probably impossible for her to understand Flum’s feelings after being a slave for so long herself. Even if Flum is no longer a member of the Hero’s Party and doesn’t have to worry about defeating the Demon Lord anymore, she can’t just go back home with a face like this.

In the end, the human named Flum Apricot died after all.

But she’s still alive.

Flum put her feet to the ground and started walking of her own free will.

And she’s not alone.

Even if she does feel a bit conflicted about what she should be doing now, there’s someone by her side now.

“If we’re going to stay alive, I guess we’ll have to earn some money first.”

“Yes… I suppose I’ll have to start selling my body. I don’t have any experience with that sort of thing, but I’ll do my best.”

The first thing that comes to Milkit’s mind is prostitution, of all things. Flum lets out a big, long sigh.

“Milkit, how about you treat you your body with a little more respect?”

“Respect? I’m not sure I understand.”

“Selling your body is your last resort, not your go-to.”

“What do you propose, then?”

“I guess we should head for the West Quarter first. We should be able to get work there.”

“Work that even slaves can take on...?”

The West Quarter is the only place in the capital where there’s a way for anyone to earn money, regardless of social standing. Milkit herself doesn’t think of that option until they arrive in front of the building itself.

Putting a little more strength into her grasp, Flum leads Milkit forward a little faster than before.

◇◇◇

The Capital is divided into four Quarters: Central, East, West, and North. The largest of them, the Central Quarter, is home to a wide variety of shops, and away from the main streets are residential areas. The elitist East Quarter is where nobles and wealthy merchants live, and the North Quarter is where facilities important to the function of the country like the Royal Palace and the Grand Cathedral lie.

The West Quarter is where the poor and the homeless gather.

The slave merchant’s base is on the westernmost edge of the Central Quarter, and as such Flum’s destination is relatively close. After walking for about twenty minutes, they stop in front of a certain building and look up at the sign.

“This is… the Adventurer’s Guild?”

Milkit looks up at the symbol drawn there.

The Adventurer’s Guild --- a place where adventurers gather and take on quests.

‘Adventurer’ is the title given those who support the brave settlers of the wild and monster infested lands that still remain in the Kingdom.

“Yeah. I’ve heard of slaves-turned-adventurers before, and now I can fight and everything. I think I’ll at least be able to handle the easy quests.”

Having killed the ghouls and the merchant, she has some confidence now. She’s aware that she crossed a certain line back then, but in order for a person who’s strayed from the right path to rejoin society, they need some good deeds under their belt.

“Since you’re strong enough to kill a ghoul in a single strike, you can probably earn money here --- but Master, how is that even possible? As soon as you grabbed the sword your wounds healed, and you suddenly became strong enough to swing it so easily…”

“It’s probably because the sword’s Epic-tier, just like that merchant said. Maybe it’s got a strengthening enchantment on it or something?”

“That other man melted when he touched it.”

“Well, yeah, I’m curious about that too, but since my Magic’s zero I can’t cast Scan...”

If she could, she’d be able to see all of the sword's enchantments.

“Wait a sec. Since my body feels a lot lighter now, maybe my Magic also…?”

“Hold on a minute,” she says, pulling Milkit off to a small alley beside the Guild.

Thinking ‘come out’ in that dark, abandoned alley, light motes appear above her hand, spiral, and form a sword. Inwardly surprised, Flum takes a deep breath, then tries to cast Scan on the sword.

The basics of casting magic are to grasp the mana from within one’s body, manipulate it, and expel it in the desired form. Up until now she’s never felt it work --- but now she feels something shapeless almost like smoke flowing out from within her body.

She smiles to herself.

She can’t help being pleased. She’s been trying to reach this power for sixteen years, and this time she’s actually done it. As she starts getting distracted, however, the mana she’s gathered starts dissipating. Hurriedly renewing her focus, she causes the energy to flow up to her head, finally focusing it all into her eyes.

“Scan.”

The information appears in front of her.

Name: The Soul-Devouring Zweihander

Tier: Epic

[This equipment lowers your Strength by 318]

[This equipment lowers your Magic by 96]

[This equipment lowers your Stamina by 293]

[This equipment lowers your Agility by 181]

[This equipment lowers your Intuition by 107]

[This equipment melts your flesh]

“Soul-Devouring…?”

Flum reads those worrying words aloud without thinking.

It’s a fitting name for a cursed sword.

At one point, it was probably just a two-handed sword like any other --- but somehow the resentment of the dead was gathered in the blade, its curse grew every time it claimed a victim, and finally it devolved into a sword that slays even its wielder.

“But why? Since all these enchantments lower stats, there’s really no way I should be able to use it…”

“It lowers them?”

“As far as I can tell, yeah. Why don’t you cast Scan and see for yourself?”

“I can’t cast it, so I’ll have to refuse.”

There’s no way that’s true. Even someone with a Magic of 1 should be able to cast Scan.

Flum then realizes what Milkit means.

It’s the most fundamental of magics, but if she’s never been taught, then there’s no way she could cast it --- her masters up until now have denied her even that basic knowledge.

“Even if I could see its status it wouldn’t mean anything to me. I can’t read.”

I’m the one better off for once --- Flum comes to that harsh realization.

“I’ll teach you to read, so once things calm down a little bit we’ll study together, okay?”

Flum smiles at her.

Milkit is silent for a few seconds, then she looks down, breaking eye contact with Flum. Her expression is filled with confusion and embarrassment.

“If you insist, Master, then I’ll do whatever you say.”

Flum is bothered slightly by her weak-willed response, but she decides to just accept the way Milkit is for now.

“It’s decided, then! I’ll teach you all I can, so leave it all to me!”

Getting a little carried away, she puffs out her chest with pride.

“...Wait, we didn’t figure out what’s up with the sword, did we? My stats are supposed to drop and I should’ve melted by now, but instead my stats have gone up and my wounds healed.”

“Yes. If we can figure that out, then we might figure out how to make you even stronger in the future, too.”

“I wish. Raising instead of lowering, healing instead of melting. Hmm...”

“It’s completely switched around, hasn’t it.”

“Yeah, it’s the opposite… it’s flipped…”

The opposite, flipped --- in other words, it’s reversed.

Flum’s Attribute is Reversal.

It’s supposed to be a useless, false power, nothing more than the cause for all her stats being zero, but if it turned out to be the reason for this sudden strength of hers---

“There’s a way to actually use my useless Attribute…?”

“Attribute?”

“I actually have one of those Rare Attributes, Reversal. It made all my stats zero, and I was positive it was worthless, but… I guess you never can tell what’ll be useful, huh…!”

Lowered stats become raised stats, melted flesh becomes regenerated flesh --- it wouldn’t be an overstatement to say that the curse itself has reversed and become a blessing.

“I always wondered why I had this useless power… haha, I never noticed because I would’ve never tried to use cursed equipment on my own… hahaha, hahahaha!”

Flum’s ecstatic voice echoes through the alley.

Milkit, not understanding the situation completely, stares at her blankly.

“Uh, sorry for getting so worked up all of a sudden. The bottom line is, because of my Attribute I get stronger the more cursed stuff I use!”

“I see. I don’t get it, but you really are amazing, Master.”

Her reaction is weak.

Flum’s mood suddenly deflates.

Of course she doesn’t get it. Not only have they just met, but Milkit isn’t the most emotional girl to begin with. She’s a little sad Milkit won’t celebrate with her, but they don't have the time for that anyway. The sun will set if they don’t hurry, and Flum wants to earn at least enough by then to pay for a room for the night.

In order to register at the Adventurer’s Guild, it’s necessary to clear a simple F-Rank quest. After that she’ll get her license and the reward money for the quest, which should be enough for one night at an inn.

Coming in front of the guild once more, they compose themselves and enter.

The inside of the guild isn’t exactly clean, and the smell of liquor saturates the air from the bar inside the guild, designed to allow adventurers to ‘meet-and-greet’ and form a party.

A number of adventurers are gathered there, ranging from well-kept to vulgar. They look at Flum and Milkit, and noticing the slave mark on Flum’s cheek many of them start to snigger crudely.

The receptionist’s window is just inside the building, and the woman with thick makeup behind the counter stops languidly playing with her nails long enough to twist up her face in disgust at the two girls.

“What’re you slaves doing here? You don’t look like some noble’s handmaids or anything.”

“I’m here to be an adventurer. Can I get a license?”

The receptionist ignores the laughter from the adventurers at the bar.

“Don’t kid yourself. Do you have a death wish or something? That bandaged girl might not do so well, but you're young enough you could make a pretty penny as a whore. Want me to introduce you to a guy?”

She smirks ill-naturedly.

Flum swallows her irritation, but a few adventurers follow up from the bar.

“Hey, brown-hair, if ya want I’ll buy ya for tonight right now! Lose the bandage-bitch somewhere first, though!”

“Haha, that’s cold!”

“What, you’d screw a monster like that?”

“Hell no… but hold on a sec, it’s been a while since I had a go…”

“Hyahahaha, ya jackasses’d probably go for stray dogs if ya got the chance!”

“Hey, if they don’t got diseases…”

“Are ya serious!? Gahahaha!”

Flum grits her teeth and clenches her fists, trying not to give them a reaction, but in the end she's unable to hold back. She glares and steps forward to shut them up when suddenly Milkit grabs her sleeve to stop her.

“Why are you…!?”

“There’s no point standing up for me, Master. There’s nothing for you to gain by hurting them.”

“Look, I’m angry that they said that stuff about you, but I’m angry about what they said about me, too!”

About ninety percent of her anger is for Milkit’s sake, though. Because Milkit seems to realize that, Flum stops.

“Okay, but seriously, they’re willing to buy you, so why not take them up on their offer? It’ll be a lot easier that way.”

“I already told you no.”

“Ah, I see.”

Giving her an offhand response, the receptionist turns her attention to the paperwork in front of her.

“No, uh, what are you doing? I said I wanted to be an adventurer…?”

“...”

“Hey!”

“Gawd, you’re loud! You just don’t know when to shut up, do you? I don’t have any work for slaves that ignore my charity like that. If you get it, then go spread your legs over there.”

After being told that with a faint smile, Flum’s finally reached her limit. She’s halfway across the counter, reaching for the receptionist’s collar when someone calls out to her.

“Now, now, now, there’s no need to be so hard on these poor girls.”

A man approaches them from a crowded table by the bar. He’s thin, and maybe a head taller than Flum, but from his lean muscles it’s clear that he’s not starved but simply lean. His hair is light brown and cut short, and he gives off a sense of cleanliness. Perhaps because he was just enjoying a casual drink, he isn’t wearing any adventuring gear except for an expensive-looking dagger at his waist.

“I’m sorry for so suddenly butting in on your conversation like this. My name is Dane Finneas, and I’m an A-Rank adventurer affiliated with this guild. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He extends a hand, which Flum takes with suspicion. It’s large, and the skin on his palm is rough and calloused. Maybe because of the thin scar on his cheek, or the sharp look in his eyes, or maybe even the way Flum can’t tell what he’s thinking, he gives off a sense of being very strong.

If he wasn’t, he would never have made it to A-Rank status.

All adventurers, without exception, start at F-Rank. They can rise in rank as they take more and more difficult quests, but only those that the guild deems as competent are even given that chance.

“Ila, we’ve finally got a newcomer wishing to join the West Quarter guild despite how damned unsafe it is around here, so why would you turn her away?”

“But…”

“Whether or not she can survive as an adventurer is based on her strength alone. It doesn’t matter if she’s a slave or a noble, I believe it’s important to give her a fair chance.”

“...If you say so, Dane-san.”

Dane likely holds quite a bit of influence in the guild, enough that Ila listens to him so readily despite how she was treating the two only moments before.

“Shouldn’t this one do?” he says, reaching across the counter and pointing out a quest from the stack of Ila’s paperwork.

For some reason Ila seems confused, but not in a position to turn down his suggestion she nods a moment later.

She hands the sheet of paper to Flum, who reads: ‘Gather 1 werewolf fang.’ The quest is F-Rank. Flum also receives a map, marked with the location werewolves can be found.

“Here, take it. If you come back alive I’ll give you your license.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Flum responds in a low voice as she takes the map from Ila, clearly in a foul mood. If she’s going to become an adventurer, she’ll probably end up spending a lot of time with Ila --- having already antagonized her, Flum heaves an inward sigh.

“I can call you Dane-san, right? Thank you so much for your help. It looks like I’ll be getting my license after all.”

As they leave the guild, Flum turns and bows to him. “No need to be so proper with me,” he says with a pleasant smile. He returns to the bar area and sits back with the same group of adventurers as before.

After watching Dane go, she turns to Milkit.

“Should we get going, then?”

“Yes, Master.”

Flum naturally takes Milkit’s hand in her own and the two leave the guild. Their destination is, of course, the place marked on the map.

◇◇◇

Dane continues to watch them with a smile until they pass out of sight, then bursts out laughing.

“What’d you do, Dane-san?”

One of the men at his table asks him.

“Just as you saw, I let her take her first quest so she can get her license. I’m so nice, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, right. There was probably something funny about the quest, wasn’t there?”

“Well… Maybe out of concern for my little kouhai’s future I raised the bar a little bit.”

Saying so, he downs the cloudy white liquor in his glass in a single gulp.

“Puahh! Kuhehe, normally new adventurers take an F-Rank quest, right?”

“Well, yeah. So?”

If it's someone Dane likes, he can waive the exam part of the license process completely --- but if the newbie is someone he doesn’t like he can do the exact opposite.

“I raised the bar on her a little.”

“Oh yeah? How much?”

“Only a little bit. The quest she walked out with was a D-Rank one. If she really has a talent for the job she’ll have no problem killing a mere werewolf.”

Hearing that, the man looks a little turned off.

“D-Rank is like, three, maybe even five times as hard as F-Rank. The girl’s a goner.”

“It can’t be helped. Unlike me, she has no talent.”

“Haha, that’s our Dane-san!”

The adventurers laugh as they imagine the two slave girls getting mercilessly slaughtered. The thought is the perfect companion for their booze.

---“The Daring Dastard”, Dane Finneas.

He has a long history of colluding with the guild to unfairly manipulate quests. He controls many of the adventurers in the West Quarter; in exchange for a part of their quest rewards, he plays the system to pad their adventurer rank. Using that and other underhanded methods, he’s reached the status of A-Rank adventurer without the strength he would normally need.

Unaware of his true identity and malicious intent, Flum and Milkit leave town hand-in-hand, headed to the location marked on the map.

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