After changing my eye-catching, elaborate armor for a plain one, crossing mountains and rivers, I finally reached the Kingdom of Hervor.
There, I decided to settle in a city called Vespian.
It was a good city to live in.
A big city with a lively downtown, excellent public safety, and reasonably affordable prices.
Although it was only at a pseudo-medieval level, in this world, this was enough to be considered a city perfect for settling down for life.
However, I couldn’t achieve my original goal of living in hiding quietly.
…No, well, there was an unexpected problem. Actually, it was something I should have thought of.
What problem, you ask?
Well, of course, the issue of my identity and occupation.
Having decided to live an honest life, I needed to earn money to live, and to earn money, I needed to work… but for me, that was impossible.
Unless I revealed the name Brunhilde Eisenstein, I was just an unknown foreigner after all.
Unless there was a local who could vouch for my identity, to put it bluntly, I was no different from an illegal immigrant.
The only kind-hearted bosses who would employ such a person were bar owners or brothel madams.
If I had any outstanding skills, I might have been able to apply for those kinds of jobs.
Like a chef, tanner, or blacksmith.
It would have been impossible in the actual Middle Ages, but in this game world, even women could do such jobs.
However, this was out of the question.
Neither Brunhilde’s body nor I myself had any skills other than the ability to slit carotid arteries well.
So, well, what could I do?
If I didn’t want to become a prostitute, there was only one choice left.
“Welcome! How may I help you?”
One of the few jobs that would hire even vagrants or drifters without identification, as long as they applied.
“…I’m here to register as an adventurer.”
I had no choice but to become an adventurer.
* * *
After that, well, it’s as you see.
I became a wooden token adventurer named Hilde, and after about a month of various odd jobs, I was able to be promoted to an iron token adventurer.
That was about two weeks ago.
If I remember correctly, I killed about forty people during that time. Party members who suddenly turned into looters.
…It wasn’t my fault.
Really. It was all self-defense, I tell you.
Perhaps due to the open employment policy that accepted even vagrants and drifters, somehow I seemed to encounter twice as many scumbags as when I was traveling alone.
Anyway, that’s how I came to be known as ‘Iron Face’ Hilde, an iron token adventurer of the Vespian Adventurers’ Guild.
< Iron Face >
Maybe it was because of my attitude of not taking off my helmet even while eating, and because every time I returned after wiping out my party members, I answered that it wasn’t my fault.
At some point, that kind of epithet got attached to my name.
It’s really embarrassing.
Originally, epithets were like medals proving an adventurer’s skill and fame.
Like ‘of the Gale’ something or ‘Orc-Eating’ someone. That sort of thing.
Should I say it’s proof that I can boast about being such a successful adventurer?
That’s why adventurers usually rejoiced when they got an epithet. It meant their career was recognized by everyone else.
However, that only applied to adventurers of at least silver token rank.
For an iron token adventurer like me to get an epithet…
How should I put it? It was similar to giving a yellow shoulder strap to a military recruit with a unique personality.
…It meant I was a problem child and should be handled with care.
I felt wronged.
Really.
Although my daily income was three times that of the average iron token adventurer thanks to looting the looters’ pockets, it was still an incredibly unfair situation.
“If you can’t even explain…”
Of course, no matter how I tried to explain myself, the receptionist girl would only sigh deeply, like an older sister looking at her younger sister who had run away from home and come back.
* * *
Ah, the receptionist girl actually had a younger sister who had run away and come back.
Her name was Yuni, I think?
She was a girl who had run away to another city because she resented her sister for not allowing her to become an adventurer.
She was almost caught and about to become a plaything for a bandit group when I happened to pass by and rescued her.
The reason the receptionist girl works so hard to defend me is probably because of that. If it weren’t for me, she might have ended up with dozens of nieces and nephews.
Of course, there’s probably a more practical reason beyond emotional gratitude.
The fact that I wiped out over a dozen bandits without a scratch meant that my skills were at least at the copper token level.
Having copper token level skills at the age of twenty meant I had the potential to reach silver or even gold token within a few years.
From the perspective of a request office employee, it would be a shame to let such talent go.
I heard that when an adventurer they’re in charge of reaches silver or gold token rank, the employee receives a substantial bonus.
In reality, I ended up in the laughable situation of being discussed for expulsion rather than promotion because I killed over forty adventurers in just a month and a half…
Honestly, that’s not my fault, but rather the fault of this world where the concepts of conscience and morality have been buried somewhere in the gutter, right?
This isn’t some martial arts world, so where has all the righteousness gone?
Think about it.
In a society where law and justice, ethics and order stood upright, would I have been called a problem child?
I would have received a medal instead.
A police officer who single-handedly arrested 150 gangsters could probably rise to the position of police chief.
“—Don’t you think so? I killed forty looters, what greater achievement could there be? Shouldn’t I be promoted to copper token instead of being expelled?”
When I complained like this to the receptionist girl because I felt a bit wronged,
“…Hilde, do you perhaps not have any?”
Unfortunately, this was the response I got.
Along with a face that said, ‘Have you no shame, how can you say such things?’
“Huh? Ah, yes. Well, I suppose so.”
I nodded with a sour face.
It was a sudden outburst, but I actually didn’t have any.
“Certainly, I don’t have parents…”
“No, no, not parents! Are you trying to make me look like a villain…!”
The receptionist girl jumped in surprise, shrugging her shoulders and looking around.
She had the face of a girl who realized she had forgotten to wear underwear only after reaching the middle of the marketplace.
“Weren’t you about to curse me for not having parents?”
“What are you…! I meant conscience, conscience!”
Ah, that’s what she meant.
In Korea, when someone asked if you had any, it was naturally asking about your parents’ well-being, so I misunderstood.
Indeed, it should be called the country of eastern courtesy. It was a country where people asked about the existence of others’ parents dozens of times a day. I used to ask a lot too.
“Conscience? I have so much of that it’s troublesome.”
It’s overflowing, really.
If you were to cut open my chest and look inside, I bet about 60% would be filled with conscience. The remaining 40% is indignation.
“If I had no conscience, I wouldn’t be catching looters, I’d be doing the looting. You know that. Iron token level can’t beat me.”
“That’s…! I mean, that’s not… Ah, really…”
Perhaps at a loss for words due to my perfect self-defense, the receptionist girl closed her eyes and sighed deeply, like a prosecutor who had lost a court battle.
“Ah, and. I’ve been thinking about something.”
I decided to add one more thing while I was at it. Honestly, it was a complaint I had wanted to voice for a while.
“Wouldn’t the problem be solved if you assigned verified party members from the start? I think I encounter looters so often because I’m always going out with newbies who just joined.”
It was obviously correct. Even if you brought Socrates, he would nod and admit defeat, unable to refute.
However, the receptionist girl didn’t admit defeat. She was a formidable opponent.
“…Excuse me, Hilde. Do you remember someone called Bedi?”
Bedi?
Who was that?
I tilted my head and just blinked my eyes.
“…I guess you don’t remember. When you had just started working with a wooden token, there was an adventurer you did a wild slime collection request with.”
Ah. I remembered. There was such a person.
“…That was a mistake, I tell you.”
“Yes. It must have been a mistake. You blew off Bedi’s left arm when he was trying to pat your shoulder to help you relax, but you did bring him back.”
That really was a mistake. It happened at a time when I was extremely wary of everything around me, not long after I had killed over a hundred people.
I was so surprised that I jumped more than Bedi, whose arm had been cut off.
“Rick’s arrow only hit your armor because his aim was poor, and Hamilton just slipped on mud and lost his balance. Isn’t that right?”
“…”
There… were… such mistakes too.
Of course, I instinctively swung my sword because I was hit in the back by an arrow, and when someone pounced on me from behind, I unconsciously grabbed that arm and crushed it with my knee.
“You sent over ten local adventurers to the infirmary like that, and now you’re asking for verified party members? Is that even possible?”
“…I’m sorry.”
I had nothing to say and lowered my head.
…Looking back, I did cause quite a lot of accidents during my wooden token days.
It was a time when my body would immediately swing the sword at the slightest surprise.