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As soon as Old Man Japan finishes up explaining how to buy a house, he adds one final bit of information, looking all the while like he’d rather not.

“Besides that, you do have the option of renting a room from the Adventurers Guild, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Oh, boy. The Adventurers Guild is scary.

*****************

“Oh? Now that’s what I’d expect from a fantasy world! Adventurers are cool as shit! Like, being part of the guild and adventuring and stuff. And raising your rank so girl adventurers and the front-desk girls will be all over you. That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day! Why didn’t you mention it at the start? You could learn a thing or two about how to treat your guests, gramps!”

Girl adventurers? Front-desk girls? Are you being serious right now, Osshan? I’ve never seen a female adventurer before, and I’d bet there aren’t any in the first place; front-desk girls, on the other hand, I guess you might be able to find in a big city. The front-desk here is run by a sketchy-looking man.

More importantly, you’ve got some messed-up sensibilities, Osshan, if you think adventurers are cool. Almost all adventurers are lowlives. The few that aren’t are just adults that never grew up, like Dad.

Old Man Japan sighs deeply. “I didn’t bring it up because I thought you’d react like this. In this world, ‘adventurer’ is a word that refers to temporary laborers, and the Adventurers Guild isn’t like your books would lead you to believe. There’s no ranking system, for example. Hell, they don’t even bother registering people in the first place!”

“That’s weird. But come on, gramps, I’m curious! Tell me more about the Adventurers Guild. Like, if I joined the guild, couldn’t I form a party and take on strong monsters?”

Osshan seems to have some weird ideas about the guild. It’s not a nice a place. In fact, it’s pretty dangerous.

The basic idea behind the guild is that there’s a job board where requests are posted, and the adventurers pick the ones they want. Of course, each job is undertaken at your own risk: the guild won’t try to stop you if you decide on a job that’s way above your abilities. After all, they still get paid even if you fail.

Old Man Japan explains to Osshan how the guild works. “At the guild, you’ll find a job board. Requests from the community are posted to this board. There are two types: special and regular—”

“Oh, I’ve heard of that!” I interrupt without thinking. “Special requests are onetime things, and regular requests are requests that are always available for things that are always needed—like skill fruits and stuff!”

Old Man Japan greets my interruption with a smile and a gentle head pat. “That’s right, Marron. I’m very impressed you knew that.” He turns back to Osshan. “This is all, however, a grift. To accept a special request, you must first pay the guild a commission equal to ten percent of the expected reward.

“That, by the way, is not all—the guild also wrings the same fee from the original client for the privilege of using the job board. For just the privilege of posting the paper to the board. Unlike in a light novel, they’re not conscientious enough to provide any guarantee that the job will actually be completed. In other words, they double dip on each and every job, with no regard for the job actually being done.

“Regular requests aren’t much better. The guild pays market rate, but they take ten percent off the top. The one nice thing, I guess, is that they take ten percent after you turn in the goods and not before.”

Yeah, that fee they take is pretty awful. If you sell ten slimes to the Slime Merchant, you’ll get ten copper; if you sell those same slimes to the guild, you’ll only get nine. Even worse, if you sell them eleven slimes instead, you still only get nine copper, because the fee becomes two copper! It’s a little beyond me, but apparently the fee gets “rounded up”.

Just once, before he died, Dad took me to the guild and sold them some slimes, so I could see how sneaky and untrustworthy they are. From that day on, I’ve done my best to have nothing to do with them.

*****************

“That seems crazy lucrative for them,” Osshan begins. “But, like, they’re basically stealing people’s money, right? Shouldn’t people just stop going there for work?”

“You would be surprised. Check the guild out any day of the week, and you’ll see adventurers swarming in front of the job board.”

He’s right. In the morning, on my way out of town, I often pass by the guild and see a shocking amount of seedy-looking adventurers spilling out.

“But why though? Why do they go there, even though they know they’re being taken advantage of?” Osshan persists.

“The largest reason is simply that monsters are just too strong. It takes ten or more newbie adventurers just to take out even a level-zero rabbit. But the butchers can’t have enough rabbit meat, and it would be far too much work for them to gather such a large group of adventurers on their own each time they wanted to restock. So, the merchants resign themselves to the fee and post up on the guild’s job board.

“For the adventurers, it’s much the same. There’s a lot of work that’s simply too much for one person to handle, which leaves them with little choice but to wait at the job board and gather partners before setting out.”

“If it’s too much for one guy, can’t they just form a party like they do in light novels? Then they could take requests directly from clients and avoid the guild’s big cut! Like, you were talking about the butchers, right? They could just get the request for rabbit meat straight from them, since they always need more of it anyways.”

Wow. That’s surprisingly smart, Osshan. I’m actually impressed for once.

Old Man Japan, however, doesn’t appear to share that feeling at all. His expression darkens, and he takes a breath before responding. “I can’t recommend it, but it may help you to actually go and take a look at the adventurers gathered in the guild. If you actually see them in person, you’ll understand pretty quickly that adventurers don’t have a single cooperative bone in their bodies.

“Any attempt at a permanent party would quickly collapse due to incessant infighting. They can barely manage to hold it together long enough to finish a single mission.

“However, there once was a group of young people who did try to form a party. . . .” he trails off.

“Come on, gramps. You can’t just leave me hanging like that! Tell me everything! What’s that party up to now?” Osshan asks, apparently irritated with Old Man Japan’s sudden stop.

Old Man Japan looks reluctant, but he acquiesces. “It was a party of about ten. They had the same idea as you and sold rabbit meat directly to the butchers, without involving the guild.

“One day, they returned from a hunt that required them to be away for a few days to find that their house—their base—had been burnt down. But that’s not the worst part.

“The party leader was, at the time, a newlywed. His wife was . . .” He glances at me before continuing, “. . . violated, and her carcass was left with nary a shred of modesty in the town square on the same day the fire occurred. The poor girl wasn’t even twenty yet.”

Violated? Carcass? Nary? You lost me with all those big words, Old Man Japan.

“Are you saying . . .” Osshan seems unable to finish the thought.

“Yes, I am saying that. The guild took revenge on them.”

“What the actual fuck?! That’s just like the freaking Yakuza!”

“And that’s why I’ve said multiple times now that I recommend you don’t get involved with them. Even in Japan, there were unsavory businesses who attracted these kinds of people and ran this kind of racket. The guild’s just the isekai version of that.”

That’s kind of a surprise. You guys have the same kind of dangerous groups in your hometown too? I always figured the guild gets away with it here because we’re so far out in the sticks. What kind of lawless land must Japan be to have the same issue?