I slipped through the back window of my room, just like I had a hundred times before.
The house was quiet, but it was the tense quiet of a held breath.
I stripped off my ruined tunic. It reeked of sleep-gas residue. I shoved it deep into the bottom of my wardrobe, wrapped in an old rag. I'd have to burn it later when Dad wasn't looking.
I washed my face in the basin, scrubbing until the skin was raw to get the soot out of my pores. I looked in the mirror.
"Act shocked," I whispered to my reflection. "Act confused."
I put on a fresh shirt and walked out into the kitchen.
Mom was there, stirring a pot of porridge. Dad was at the table, going over the shop ledgers, rubbing his head.
"You're home," Mom said, looking up. Her eyes were wide, scanning me for injuries. "We heard the bells. They said there was... an incident at the school?"
I froze.
I had to sell this.
"It was crazy," I said, letting my shoulders slump. I grabbed an apple from the bowl to keep my hands busy. "Mr. Halloway had a alchemy accident. He messed up a catalyst mix. Smoke everywhere. Had to cleared out the whole building."
"Alchemy accident?" Dad grunted, looking up from his numbers. "Man shouldn't be teaching if he can't control something like that. Did anyone get hurt?"
"Just coughing," I lied. "And... I think some of the girls got scared. But everyone got out."
Dad let out a long sigh, the tension leaving his shoulders. "Good. Good. Last thing we need is the Order coming down here for an investigation."
I bit into the apple to hide my grimace. The Order was definitely coming. But they wouldn't be looking for a alchemy accident; they'd be looking for the missing bomb I had buried in the woods.
"I'm heading out," I said, grabbing my spear from the corner where I'd hidden it behind the broom. "Night shift."
Dad frowned, his brow furrowing. "The Guild again? Adam, after what happened at school..."
"I need the money, Dad," I said quietly. "And the Guild doesn't care about school accidents."
He looked like he wanted to argue, to tell me to stay safe in the shop or home, but he looked back at the ledger and the red ink staining the pages. He just nodded, defeated.
"Don't be a hero," he muttered.
"I won't," I promised. I'm definitely not a Hero.
I walked out into the cool evening air. The town was buzzing with nervous energy. Patrols of Junior Guards were marching in formation, their torches casting long, flickering shadows against the cobblestones. I kept my head down, stick to the shadows, and made my way to the Adventurer's Guild.
The Guild Hall was loud as usual, the noise was segregated. On the right, the Blessed were toasting to their own greatness. On the left, the Unblessed were drinking to forget they were fodder.
I walked up to the counter. The same receptionist was there.
"Name?" she asked without looking up.
"Adam Reed," I said, placing my iron tag on the counter. "Checking the board."
She paused. Her quill stopped scratching against the parchment.
She looked up, pushing her glasses down her nose. She squinted at me, then flipped a page in her heavy ledger.
"Reed..." she muttered, tracing a line with her finger. She stopped. "The Baker's cellar. Yesterday."
"Yeah," I said, leaning against the counter. "Is there a problem?"
"The Baker sent a runner this morning to confirm the kill count," she said, her voice holding a note of genuine confusion. "He logged seven Giant Sewer Rats. Confirmed kills."
She looked at me—at my scrawny frame, my cheap tunic, and the simple spear slung over my shoulder.
"Seven," she repeated. "Usually, F-Ranks go into a nest like that and come out missing fingers. Or they don't come out at all. The last group of three I sent came back running because one bit through their shield."
"I guess I got lucky," I said, keeping my face blank. "They were distracted eating the grain."
"Distracted," she echoed, clearly not buying it. She looked at my tag again. "You're solo. No party. No Blessing."
"Does the Guild pay extra for conversation?" I asked dryly. "Or can I just get my rank points?"
A small, cracked smile touched her lips. It wasn't a nice smile, but it was real.
"Alright, smartass," she said. She stamped my sheet. "Seven kills. That pushes you out of the 'Probationary' status. You're still F-Rank, but you're not 'fodder' anymore. You're 'labor'."
She reached under the counter and pulled out a parchment.
"And," she added, sliding a new parchment across the wood. "Since you seem to be good at pest control, this came in. It pays better than rats."
I picked it up.
[Quest: Slime Infestation] [Location: The Old Storm Drains] [Target: Acidic Slimes blocking the flow] [Reward: 40 Copper]
"Slimes?" I asked.
"Nasty little things," she warned. "Physical attacks don't work well unless you hit the core. And if they touch you, they melt skin. Most rookies hate them."
"I'll take it," I said.
Physical attacks didn't work well? Good. I wasn't planning on fighting fair anyway.
"Don't melt," she said, dismissing me with a wave of her hand. "Next!"
I grabbed the quest sheet and turned to leave.
As I walked toward the door, I felt eyes on me. Not the receptionist.
I glanced toward the VIP section.
Sitting at a high table, sipping wine from a silver goblet, was a man in polished blue armor. A Mage. He wasn't looking at the serving girls. He was looking right at me.
His eyes were narrowing, calculating.
I didn't stop. I pushed through the double doors and into the town.
"Great," I muttered, adjusting my spear. "Now I have fans."
I headed toward the Old Storm Drains. Kaelen would probably be annoyed I took a job today, but forty copper was forty copper. And if I was going to attend the Imperial academy, I needed every coin I could get.