Chapter 19: Quest 9: Earn Money [Part 2]

“Show your permit.”

“Here.”

Makoto handed over his pass.

The guard narrowed his eyes—likely checking his status with a skill—then visibly flinched.

The same reaction as the church receptionist.

A level 100 adventurer was clearly recognized as a threat.

Especially a stranger.

The guard coughed, perhaps embarrassed at having shown fear.

“No problems. You may enter.”

“Thanks.”

Makoto stepped through the gate and paused.

Behind him, Yuuka presented her permit.

Moments later, the guard flinched again.

“We really need better information.”

Leaning against the wall, Makoto muttered.

From the thieves’ strength and people’s reactions, he and Yuuka were classified as powerful.

He had no intention of acting arrogant.

But without knowing their position, they might stumble into unnecessary trouble.

The real issue was whether they could gather reliable information.

“If only I could meet Tom again…”

“What are you mumbling about?”

Yuuka peered at him with an annoyed look.

“Finished already?”

“It’s just showing a permit.”

“…Right.”

“Don’t just start walking.”

Makoto moved off; she followed, grumbling.

“What’s next?”

“I’m going back to the inn to laze around.”

She added sarcastically that she was tired.

She really could not resist snide remarks.

No wonder she was abandoned in the dungeon.

“And you?”

“I’ll gather info before heading back.”

“…Hmm.”

She eyed him suspiciously, as if suspecting an excuse.

“If you’re going to doubt me, drop the sarcasm,” he thought.

“Fine. Make sure you gather good information.”

“I will.”

She emphasized “make sure.”

He bit back irritation.

Arguing with a woman never paid off.

“I’ll head this way.”

“Make sure.”

“…Yeah.”

He turned into an alley, wanting to avoid more barbs.

“Should’ve asked Sherry where adventurers gather.”

He walked through quieter streets.

If even Sherry’s 30A inn had no adventurers, cheaper inns in rougher areas were likely spots.

As he moved away from the main street, buildings grew older.

A rotten smell lingered.

Then—

A cry.

Not far.

He felt no urge to rush.

It sounded closer to the main street anyway.

Still—

Another cry.

“…What a pain.”

Scratching his head, he followed the sound.

Two thugs were kicking a child.

Onlookers watched from afar.

The child curled up, bleeding from the head.

Makoto folded his arms.

Even after coming this far, he hesitated.

Better confirm the situation first.

“Why beat a child?”

“Debt collection.”

“Where are the parents?”

Housewives whispered.

When the kicking stopped, the boy looked up.

“Oh, it’s Tom.”

“W-Who?”

Tom’s eyes pleaded not to get involved.

Makoto approached anyway.

A thug shoved him.

“Don’t butt in—”

“Good. Violence makes this easy.”

Makoto smiled.

“Y-You gonna kill me? Stan’s backing us!”

“Boss, he’s got killer eyes!”

“Makoto-sama?!”

A sudden weight clung to his waist.

Laura, golden-haired knight, hugged him.

“Makoto-sama! Please withdraw! No bloodshed!”

The crowd murmured.

“Why are you nearly crying?”

“Please! Please!”

Makoto scratched his head.

She assumed he would slaughter them.

Not unreasonable given the power gap.

“I’m not going to—”

“Run!”

The thugs turned pale.

“Isn’t he the one who killed fifty thieves?”

“Not that many!”

They fled.

So did the onlookers.

“…Laura, let go.”

“I won’t!”

“They’re gone.”

She looked up and sighed in relief.

“Now let go.”

“S-Sorry!”

She jumped away.

Tom groaned.

“You okay?”

“…Why help me?”

“I heard someone call for help.”

“Wasn’t me.”

“Then count yourself lucky. Who were they?”

“…Debt collectors.”

Laura nodded.

“You meant to help him.”

“Did I look murderous?”

“I trust you.”

She lied poorly.

“You’re kind.”

“Not really.”

He hoped to gain useful information.

Not kindness.

Still—

Tom owed 20,000A.

At 20% annual interest.

Impossible to repay at this rate.

Yet Tom declared he would reclaim his house and live with his siblings.

Makoto clenched his wrist.

Anger rose.

Not at the lender.

At Tom’s naïve optimism.

Then a gentleman entered—Stan.

He confirmed the debt.

Makoto proposed lending 20,000A himself.

No interest.

In exchange for Tom’s knowledge and skills.

Stan realized Makoto understood their tactic—pressuring family into slavery.

Stan conceded.

Tom agreed—on the condition of a church contract.

Back at the inn, Makoto paid another 100A for Tom’s stay.

Room 103.

Tom bowed deeply.

“Thanks, big bro.”

“Big bro?”

“Too familiar?”

“…It’s fine.”

Then Makoto asked:

“Why pretend to be a guy?”

Tom froze.

After a long silence—

“When did you notice?”

“From the start.”

“Why bring it up now?”

“Just curious.”

Tom formed a hand sign.

“Ha!”

Smoke burst.

When it cleared, a fox-eared girl stood there.

Fluffy tail, pointed ears.

“This is my true form.”

“Not much different.”

“My ears and tail!”

Her tail bristled.

“Fox Tail tribe?”

“Yeah. We have an innate skill—Perception Interference.”

“Feels more like misdirection.”

“Depends on proficiency.”

She seemed unsure.

“Other races have innate skills too?”

“All humanoid races except humans.”

“Humanoid?”

“Humans, elves, dwarves, beastfolk.”

She eyed him suspiciously.

“You look like you’re wondering why I’m asking.”

“N-No!”

Makoto chuckled.

“I’m a visitor—marebito.”

“A visitor?!”

“That’s why I lack common sense here.”

“That explains why you helped me.”

“Exactly.”

“So I’ll handle that part.”

She puffed her chest proudly.

“Keep using the skill?”

“Your choice.”

“Then I won’t. Solo girls are in danger otherwise.”

“What should I call you?”

“Fene.”

She spun her tail.

“Fene. Looking forward to working together.”

“Same here.”

Makoto shook Fene’s hand.