Chapter 95

The ceremony to celebrate the conqueror was growing into a city-wide event. Merchants from surrounding cities gathered, targeting the nobles and wealthy who would attend the ceremony. Merchants with shops in the city also thrived, proclaiming their services for the conqueror and enlivening the streets day after day. After all, it was a rare opportunity to raise one's name with just a single visit to a store, and it would be hard to deny their enterprising spirit.

The party members, busy with the constant stream of visiting dignitaries, found less and less time to meet. Perhaps because of this, they made an effort to gather and meet in the limited time they had.

"That deputy branch manager, Worm, says he can only participate from the spectator seats because he's a contract member. I thought about throwing him out the window."

"I appreciate your sentiment, but there are internal guild rules. If we make too many exceptions, citing flexibility, it would be unhealthy for the organization."

If too many special cases were allowed, dissatisfaction would build up within the organization. Worm, who had belonged to an organizational society, knew this from experience. The formation of a culture where anything goes as long as results are achieved, based on bad precedents, could lead to individual recklessness.

"Worm, you're so cold about it."

Meryl, who had been raging at what seemed like an unfair announcement, gradually calmed down as she saw that Worm, the party member, didn't seem to mind at all.

"But is it really okay? It's a great honor, you know."

Hari emphasized this point.

"It's not my style. The Adventurers' Guild probably wants to highlight those from Bergana. I'm receiving excellent treatment for meals and lodging. I have no complaints."

"You're stubborn in strange ways."

Marianne, who seemed to have gotten used to it, propped her cheek and muttered.

"Well, it's not that he can't attend. More importantly, Worm's armor, which had turned to scrap, seems to be on track to be ready by the ceremony."

"I'm surprised someone took the request with such a short time frame."

"It's the armor of a conqueror. They must be putting in a lot of effort. We should be grateful to those dwarves who put in a good word for us."

When Meryl mentioned those dwarves, there was only one group that Worm knew. They were a rare party that entered and exited the deep layers, a mixed team of dwarves and beastmen sent by the Forest Alliance, who did not choose their monsters or locations and stuck to their own ways.

"The material is so special that they won't entrust it to anyone else. They're enthusiastic about forging it, with dwarves participating in the process. It's amazing how skillful those dwarves are, despite not being able to read the room."

Meryl said this, seemingly recalling some personal grievances. They were a complex and bizarre race, capable of both the roughness of splitting monster helmets with battle axes and the delicacy and dedication of craftsmen.

Still, Worm had no complaints. His old Hyserk-era armor, which had been reduced to scrap during the bone dragon battle, would be resurrected with a small amount of magic silver and the bone dragon's ashes. Moreover, they would understand Worm's intentions and finish it with the basic design unchanged, despite some differences. It was a comprehensive and thorough service.

"So, how's Hari's contact?"

Meryl asked Hari about the progress.

"It's an old matter, so it's quite difficult."

The topic was the method of compounding the crimson grass. Hari was gathering information from contacts from his church days, but with the fear of being tied to the conquerors, he couldn't act openly, and progress was slow. After all, it was a treasure that could cure all diseases, something that those with little time left would desire more than anything.

"I originally intended to search alone without any contacts. I'm grateful for the help."

Worm's only reliance was a healing magic user in a border town. Even if they had rare medicines, they might not know the solution. More importantly, they had informed Worm about the existence of the crimson grass, known as a treasure, to prevent him from giving up in despair.

"You're being too formal. We've been through the same lows. It's not much effort."

Hari said this without any hint of ulterior motives. When he put it that way, Worm couldn't think of anything to say. It felt awkward to express gratitude straightforwardly, so he ended up giving an ambiguous response.

◆

"This is truly troublesome. Incidents keep happening."

Raffaele, the deputy branch manager of the Bergana Adventurers' Guild, was struggling under the pressure from the marquis family due to the low iron production from the dungeon. While the transportation of meat from the lower layers had been smooth in recent years, the production of iron from the middle layers and beyond had been declining. This was because there were not enough mid-level and above adventurers to work on the task.

Promising groups of adventurers were often destroyed by the barriers of the middle and upper layers. Of course, Raffaele had not been idle. He had promoted promising adventurers to staff positions and listened to their opinions. He had also organized practical and theoretical training sessions and stationed high-salaried healing magic users in the dungeon to improve survival rates.

There were rumors of human hunting, but without any concrete evidence, the guild concluded that the lack of skill among adventurers was the main issue. Compared to the guild of decades ago, which sent users into the Black Hole and considered their job done, the current management system was supposed to be much better.

However, the news that human hunting had been reported in the dungeon was shocking. Even more shocking was that the perpetrators were the oldest and most experienced party, who also served as instructors. No one could believe it. Even if it were a false report, Faust's party had left two dead and gone missing. With a report from a three-magic strike party, Raffaele couldn't ignore it.

"There have been regular incidents of rule-breaking in the dungeon, but I never thought the oldest party would be involved in human hunting."

The rebellion of Faust, a model guild member, was enough to shake the guild's management system. Raffaele was busy dealing with the situation and had little time to rest.

"Still, it's convenient that their true nature has been exposed."

Rogo, who assisted and guarded Raffaele, assessed the situation. Rogo, who had been an excellent scout in the dungeon, viewed the removal of human hunters positively. While it sounded good to say it was a purge, it was a heavy burden for those who had to take responsibility despite their daily hard work.

"Faust was apparently culling parties that had reached a certain level. Even the apprentices he had trained. It's like a nasty livestock operation. Consider the personnel and costs required for the aftermath. There's even criticism in the taverns that the guild has ignored human hunting for years."

Rumors even spread that the guild was using human hunters to extract profits, a ridiculous conspiracy theory. Raffaele couldn't help but feel strong anger at the adventurers' excessive rumor-mongering.

"If only that wanderer had died quietly, this wouldn't have been necessary. Faust is old. A manhunt is no match for age. He would have either decayed in the dungeon or retired."

Raffaele's matter-of-fact tone made Rogo, who seemed to have something to say, feel pursued.

"Hmph, stop acting so righteous. This dungeon city is not a clear stream. It's a city where foreign spies, criminals, and necromancers hide among the swelling crowd, a place where desires and schemes intertwine. You need a broad mind to handle both the good and the bad."

The Adventurers' Guild, along with the marquis family's guards, had been removing these elements. But it was endless, like trying to clear the fog with your hands.

"The red-light district and slums are the same. The marquis tried to manage them comprehensively, but the espionage failed. Resistance from unknown enemies worsened the security. After all, the population outside the castle walls is overwhelmingly larger. It's impossible to control everything from within the walls. In the end, it's easier to select a few thugs and make them managers. They hand over those who go too far, even if they are their own."

"So, this is a kind of exchange event?"

Rogo referred to the upcoming event.

"It's an inspection. To see if their business is running smoothly. It's a perk. Ha, you may act serious, but your body is always honest."

Raffaele's gaze moved from Rogo's face to his lower body, and he laughed.

"I thought he was just a mercenary who would cause more trouble, but conquering the dungeon and achieving a three-magic strike is unexpected. The benefits outweigh the exposure of human hunting. Even the displeased marquis is pleased. Most of all, it's touching that the thugs are inviting the conquerors to the brothels to celebrate their achievement, beyond regular inspections."

The quick actions of those sensitive to profit, seeking to benefit from the conquerors, were indeed swift. Raffaele's approach was to reward those who acted obediently. Rogo, his long-time subordinate, was one of them.

"Then, enjoy yourself, Deputy Branch Manager."

As they conversed, Raffaele arrived at the intended brothel. Complaints about work could go this far.

"Yes, you too. It should be a good night."

At the intersection of a long corridor, Raffaele parted ways with Rogo. Leading Raffaele was a woman with dull red hair. Her face, though somewhat shadowed, was not unattractive. Her body, well-toned from regular activity, was well-proportioned.

"I don't recognize you."

The dim light and floating fragrance obstructed Raffaele's vision, but he had absolute confidence in his memory.

"I was specially prepared to make this day enjoyable for you, Raffaele-sama."

The woman, who led Raffaele into a room, entwined her long limbs and whispered in his ear.

"The aphrodisiac of the Alraune brings happiness and relaxes the mood. Please forget your daily hard work and enjoy this moment."

She was skilled at persuasion. Even if it was obvious flattery, it wasn't bad. Continuing the charade without losing interest was also a form of entertainment. Raffaele generously accepted the invitation.

"Let's see how enjoyable it can be."

With the woman leaning on him, the deputy branch manager merged shadows on the bed. The sweet fragrance eroded and numbed Raffaele's thoughts and body.