Chapter 50: Charlotte and the Direct Commission

I hurried through the streets, running with the single-minded desire to deliver the news as fast as possible. Soon, I arrived at my destination.

"Riven!"

"What is it? At least knock first."

"Ah, sorry!"

In my rush, I’d forgotten to even knock. Whoops. But he didn’t seem inclined to scold me further. Good—better to jump straight to the point.

"Money! We’ve got a commission that pays!"

"...Haa. I see."

"Could you not sigh at that? We need money right now!"

That’s right—we’d spent nearly everything at the auction. We even had to rewrite our original contract so that Riven would get a bigger share, just to make sure neither of us went completely broke. And yet this guy still acted like there was no urgency. What, is it because you’re royalty that you’re this blasé about money? Don’t underestimate it. In the end, the only thing you can rely on is money. Money never betrays you. People do.

I sounded like some money-obsessed miser, but the truth was we really needed it. Just being alive burns through cash. The only ones allowed to ignore money are those on their deathbed.

"Alright, alright. So, what kind of job is it?"

Maybe he caught some of my desperate energy, because Riven finally settled down and listened. Good. Without him, I couldn’t even enter the dungeon. Ever since that auction incident, our pairing had become oddly memorable, and invitations from other parties had almost disappeared. Thanks to that, aside from Riven and Reynard, I barely had anyone left to team up with.

If he abandoned me now, I’d be in serious trouble. I wasn’t about to say it out loud, but if worst came to worst, I’d beg with tears. He wouldn’t ditch me now... right?

"Uh, it’s a dungeon exploration commission."

"Hm. That’s fairly standard."

"Yes, but the problem lies in the details..."

"A problem? What kind of problem?"

When I hesitated, Riven moved closer and plucked the request form right out of my hands.

"Let’s see... hmm. A ‘search for a person,’ is it?"

"That’s right! But the issue is, there are no details written at all."

If this were about a missing adventurer, the request should include descriptions of their appearance or equipment. But this one didn’t. Which meant either the client didn’t know what the target looked like—or didn’t want us to know. Suspicious, to say the least.

Riven looked up from the paper, his eyes narrowing with doubt.

"You’re actually planning to take this?"

"B-but look at the reward! We need this money!"

He let out a long sigh.

Of course I thought it was shady too! But we had no savings left, and this wasn’t the time to scrape by on small jobs. We needed a bigger payout.

"I get that. But still—you should choose your work carefully."

"You can only say that because you’ve never been desperate for money!"

Money first! As long as you’re strapped for cash, you don’t have the luxury of being picky!

We went back and forth for a while until, finally... he gave in.

"Fine, fine. If you’re pushing this hard, you must have some reason."

"Well... sort of."

I did, but it was embarrassing to say. He was staring at me hard enough that there was no way out. With a small surrendering gesture, I admitted it.

"Hair dye. All kinds of supplies cost money."

"Hair dye? You mean that ever-changing color of yours?"

"Exactly. This stuff comes from the dungeon, and it isn’t cheap."

Yes, dyeing my hair was ridiculously expensive. I could switch to normal dye, but then it would take way too long to prepare each morning. The daily change in color helps people stop questioning my natural hair—whereas if it were fixed, any slip in the dye job would stand out too much.

Maybe it wouldn’t matter if people found out, but... it was one of the last things my mother told me to maintain, and I wanted to honor that. It’s the only real connection I have left to her. That part, though, I kept to myself.

"...So you’re risking danger for that?"

"No, no, that’s not it. This commission comes from a reliable source!"

"Oh? From who?"

"From one of the people who helped us at the auction!"

A direct commission from someone in the upper circles! Just hearing that was enough to make it sound appealing. Rich folk willing to pay big money—how could you turn that down?

"Reliable, you say? Can you really trust them?"

That doubtful look again. Hey—weren’t you closer to them than I was? Why are you the one acting like this? You heartless guy.

"Come on. They helped us out, so we should return the favor."

I tried narrowing my eyes at him, giving him a reproachful look, but it didn’t have much effect.

"In the end, they weren’t much help, were they?"

"See, that’s exactly the problem! That attitude right there! Relationships are costly to maintain, and they’re the hardest kind of expense to replace!"

Why go to the trouble of building connections if you won’t use them?

Just as I was about to launch into a whole speech about how valuable this commission could be for networking, he raised his hands in surrender.

"Alright, alright. We’ll take it. I won’t argue anymore."

"...Thank you."

"And what exactly are you thanking me for?"

"For giving in, I guess? Honestly, I was about ready to rack up another favor from Reynard if you refused—"

"Don’t you dare."

I blinked in surprise.

That rejection had come way too fast. Did he really hate the idea of owing Reynard that much?

When I stared at Riven’s face, he quickly averted his eyes.

"...We went to the trouble of making a contract. Relying on someone else would be inconsiderate."

"Well, I guess I sort of understand that."

"If you understand, then from now on, bring all matters to me first. Got it?"

"Eh? Ah, yes."

Huh? That felt... a little off. I couldn’t put it into words exactly, but there was some awkwardness there. And I didn’t like it.

After confirming the details of the commission and the execution date, we temporarily parted ways.

On the way back, wearing my usual shabby cloak for going outside, I walked down the street. What occupied my thoughts wasn’t the commission, but Riven’s earlier behavior.

"He was acting strange, wasn’t he? Hmm."

At that moment, he hadn’t seemed like his usual self. Normally, Riven acted like nothing was a big deal and charged straight toward the objective. He wasn’t the type to care much about anything else. If something was necessary, he said so. If it wasn’t, he dismissed it outright. Or at least, that’s what I thought.

"That’s what I thought, anyway."

People are complicated. Relationships are complicated. Come to think of it, in this life I’d never gotten this close to anyone before. Even in my previous life, my friendships were always broad but shallow.

Like Riven at the auction—jumping headfirst into such a messy situation—maybe I’ve changed too.

If I’ve changed, then maybe it’s not strange if Riven has as well. Reconciling with that monster of a sister? Maybe that altered something in him.

At this point, maybe we should even register our party with the Guild. It would be just the two of us, me and Riven, but that might be enough. The reason I hadn’t done it before was because I wasn’t sure how valid or lasting our contract really was. But since Riven now even helps with my small day-to-day jobs, there’s really no need to search for more members.

So much to take care of.

Lost in thought, I realized I had already returned to the Stray Cat Tavern. I nearly walked right past it—close call.

"Master, Alice, I’m back!"

"Ah! Big sis! Welcome home!"

"Hey, Alice, don’t hug that ragged cloak, it’s filthy!"

As soon as I stepped through the door, Alice came running and hugged me. I was happy, but hugging this shabby cloak wasn’t hygienic at all! People in this world weren’t that strict about cleanliness, but I’d been nagging about it enough that the tavern was in much better shape.

"Oh, Charlotte, isn’t it? Not working as the poster girl today?"

"I’ll be out there soon, don’t worry. Alice, can you let go? I need to change first."

"Okay!"

Energy is a good thing. I patted Alice gently on the head, then made my way upstairs to my room.

I planned to change quickly and head back down to the tavern, but as I tossed the request sheet onto the desk, some writing caught my eye.

"Hm?"

It was written in such a way that it almost seemed like they didn’t want it to be noticed. Why had it been written like that? And why even include it at all? I couldn’t understand.

"The search target’s name, huh."

If they were going to write it, they could’ve at least put it somewhere more obvious. I memorized the name, then checked the sheet again just in case I’d missed anything else. Nothing. Looked fine.

I carefully set the request sheet back on the desk, then opened the closet and began changing clothes.

As I changed, I thought about the commission. It was a strange request, but I was sure we’d manage somehow. Since it was a special dungeon, I’d also need to prepare the right gear.

And then there was the search target. Why hadn’t they written it more clearly? At least I’d spotted it.

Salem. That was the name of the person we were to find in the dungeon.