Shun froze amidst the crowd, his mind reeling as the name echoed in his ears.
— Gronn… That man is Gronn?
Before he could fully grasp the situation, Holland stepped forward, wearing a calming smile. The eldest brother quickly pulled Shun away from the tense air and quietly explained.
It turned out, the burly, heavy-set man was none other than Gronn, the younger brother of the red-haired girl Shun had accidentally bumped into after leaving the bath—Lauren. Hearing this, Shun was stunned.
Holland went on to explain that long before the academy called for the formation of Guilds, Lauren had already been famous as the leader of one of the most formidable Guilds. Holland himself had once studied under her guidance, and because of that, the two remained close.
As the tension in the air lingered, Lauren herself appeared. Her sharp brown eyes swept over both Gronn and Shun. With a calm but commanding voice that brooked no defiance, she spoke:
— "Gronn. Apologize to him."
The big man clenched his fists, his face still twisted in frustration. Yet under Lauren's stern gaze, he exhaled sharply and reluctantly lowered his head with a growl:
— "Sorry."
Shun wasn't one to back down. Pressing his lips together, he replied in turn:
— "Sorry."
Though both still simmered with irritation, the exchange was enough to smother the flames of conflict.
Holland laughed heartily, clapping both of them on the shoulders, his voice brimming with joy:
— "Good, good! You're young—being hot-blooded isn't a bad thing. What matters is knowing how to make peace."
Meanwhile, Shun's gaze drifted toward the nearby stall. The weaponsmith still stood there, silent, his eyes heavy and unreadable as if waiting.
Shun's heart sank as he remembered—the sword he had hastily grabbed to face Gronn was now cracked, its blade useless. Guilt welled up inside him.
Before Shun could act, Holland stepped forward, bowing deeply.
— "On behalf of my brother, I apologize for damaging your goods. Please, allow me to compensate you."
He placed the payment neatly upon the counter. The weaponsmith remained quiet, his eyes lingering on Shun as though searching for something unspoken. At last, he nodded and accepted the money without another word.
The air gradually eased. Shun, Holland, Lauren, and Gronn left the night market and made their way back to the inn.
The heavy wooden door creaked open, releasing the mingling scents of food and ale into the lively air. And there, in the familiar corner, Willin lay sprawled over the table, breathing heavily with the strong stench of beer, completely lost to the world.
Holland chuckled softly, his voice teasing with warmth:
— "Well now, Willin. Sleeping soundly, are we? Wake up—your little brother nearly turned the whole market upside down tonight."
Shun could only scratch his head and sigh, caught between embarrassment and amusement. That night, none of them realized that these chance encounters would soon weave their fates together in ways they could not yet imagine.
Willin slowly woke up, his face still flushed from the lingering effects of alcohol, his eyes half-closed as if he were still dreaming. His dazed expression was so comical that Holland and Shun couldn't hold back their laughter.
Regaining his composure, Holland gently patted his younger brother's shoulder before turning to introduce the newcomers:
— "Willin, this is Lauren and Gronn, siblings from the White Dragon Guild."
Willin frowned, his head still pounding, but he nodded politely and reached out for a handshake. Unfortunately, in his tipsy haze, his hand missed its mark—landing squarely on Lauren's chest. To make matters worse, he clearly mistook her for a young red-haired man.
For a heartbeat, the air froze.
Lauren's eyes widened, her face turning crimson, while Willin remained blissfully unaware. A split second later—
— "You bastard!!!"
She half-drew her sword and chased him around the inn's central hall.
Shun and Holland burst into uncontrollable laughter, clutching their sides with tears in their eyes. Gronn, meanwhile, could only sigh in disbelief:
— "I can't believe this guy's got the guts to pull something like that…"
After the chaos finally subsided, the group managed to sit down again. Shun, now serious, turned to Lauren:
— "Could you… tell me about Gil? I really want to understand how it works."
Lauren raised an eyebrow, then unexpectedly pointed at her younger brother:
— "My brother will explain. Listen carefully."
Gronn immediately straightened his back like a soldier under command. Though clearly intimidated by his sister, he began speaking in a loud, firm voice:
— "Gil is divided into ten main types, each with its own stages of evolution. They are:
1. Curse Gil – used to place curses upon someone.
2. Great Gil –born from the power of an elite warrior of a kingdom.
3. Base Gil –the most common; everyone has it, but it carries no special ability and only radiates outward.
4. Bad Gil –when one's Gil is too weak, or stolen away by something, leaving them hollow and stripped of strength.
5. Good Gil –possessed by those who have mastered the basics of controlling Gil.
6. God Gil – exclusive to gods who rule over lands; since their bodies are not bound by flesh, they can store this form of Gil.
7. Demon Gil – belonging to demons of high rank, from Great Demon to God-Slayer.
8. Healer Gil –radiates energy for recovery; useful for healing but nearly worthless in combat.
9. Invincible Gil – wielded only by royal-class elite tankers.
10. Adventure Gil – the Gil of explorers; it grants unique abilities and, as Holland once said, even allows communication with gods tied to certain lands."
Shun and Willin listened wide-eyed, absorbing every word. Their jaws practically dropped at the revelation, as if a whole new world had opened before them.
Noticing their awe, Gronn puffed out his chest proudly, his face full of smug satisfaction:
— "Well? My knowledge isn't so bad, is it?"
But before he could bask in their admiration—smack!
Lauren's fist came crashing down on his head, leaving a swollen lump.
— "Quit showing off, you little brat."
Shun and Willin burst into laughter again, while Holland just shook his head with a weary smile.
As the group was still roaring with laughter after the earlier chaos, heavy footsteps echoed from the wooden platform above. Slowly, the room fell silent.
A figure stepped forward—Hollombo, the inn's steward. His face was expressionless, his eyes sharp as blades, and his voice carried through the entire hall:
— "We've just received word from the food storages. Recently, livestock have been disappearing one after another. Even the chef's beloved pig has been taken… leaving him devastated for days. The mission is as follows: you may either accept tasks from the notice board, or take on the investigation of these mysterious thefts. The reward… will be seventy thousand Aus."
The hall erupted instantly. Merchants, hunters, and adventurers alike buzzed with excitement, their eyes gleaming with fiery greed.
Shun and his companions were no different.
— "Seventy thousand Aus! Did you hear that?! Seventy thousand!!" Gronn bellowed, his round face lit up with glee as if he might leap into the air.
Shun swallowed hard, heart racing. He too was lured by the number, unable to resist its weight.
Only Willin frowned, his voice cutting through the fevered excitement:
— "Don't forget, we don't even know what dangers this mission holds. Charging blindly into the unknown… is no different from digging our own graves."
At once, all eyes turned to the two most reliable figures—Lauren and Holland. Yet instead of a serious discussion, the pair were… arguing over how to spend the reward money.
— "If we get seventy thousand, I'm buying a legendary sword!" Holland declared eagerly.
— "Idiot. I'd use most of it to upgrade the Guild. And you—ten thousand on a single bottle of wine?! Are you insane?!" Lauren snapped, rapping him on the head with a sharp thunk!
— "Hey, fine wine is worth it!" Holland rubbed his head, protesting.
The two bickered endlessly, leaving their juniors clutching their stomachs in laughter. Shun only shook his head, thinking to himself: Seriously… and these two are supposed to be the leaders?
So the group finally decided to take on the mission.
Holland, meanwhile, was lost in thought—wondering just how heavenly that rare wine might taste. His daydream turned into drool slipping from the corner of his mouth, only to be smacked on the head by Lauren again. Now he had two lumps swelling proudly on his scalp.
The others snickered as the two continued their playful bickering, trading jabs and insults like a routine comedy act.
After bidding everyone goodnight, they returned to their rooms.
But Shun couldn't sleep. He stationed himself by the window, determined to catch the culprit red-handed. Hours dragged by. Midnight came and went. His eyelids drooped, the weight of sleep pulling him down—when suddenly, the faint rustle of leaves stirred him awake.
Without hesitation, Shun bolted downstairs, sprinting out behind the inn. His mind raced just as fast:
"This time, I'm grabbing the reward first! Sorry, everyone—seventy thousand Aus is mine! Muahaha!"
But fate had other plans. At the corner, Shun crashed headlong into Gronn, who was also charging toward the noise. Both of them toppled onto the ground in a heap.
— "You fat oaf! Don't you ever look where you're going?!" Shun snapped.
— "What did you say?! You're the one who ran into me!" Gronn shot back.
The two immediately fell into another shouting match, like dogs and cats clawing at each other.
Neither of them noticed the shadow slipping past—scooping up a squawking chicken before darting off into the night.
The cry of the poor bird finally snapped them back to their senses. Both scrambled to their feet, racing after the thief—each determined to outdo the other.
But they weren't alone. Dozens of other guests, stirred by the commotion, joined the chase. In the chaos, the thief melted seamlessly into the stampede of bodies.
Shun skidded to a halt, breathless and frustrated.
-"Great… how the hell am I supposed to catch him now?"
Shun and Gronn still hadn't stopped bickering, chasing after while shouting at each other:
— "It's your fault we lost him! You rammed into me!!" – Shun gritted his teeth.
— "What?! I was just checking the noise! You're the one who crashed into me first!!" – Gronn roared back.
Their quarrel echoed through the crowd, earning annoyed glares from everyone else. As the lodge was thrown into chaos searching for the thief, suddenly a deep, booming voice cut through the noise:
— "Ohohoho! Leave this to me!"
From within the crowd, a merchant with a perfectly curled mustache strode forward, chest puffed out in pride. He declared:
— "I… am a detective!"
The crowd gasped. Shun and Gronn exchanged glances, curiosity piqued, and followed after him.
The man circled the chicken coop, arms crossed, then dramatically pointed to the ground:
— "Hmmm! The thief was barefoot. Look here, muddy footprints! He must have stepped into this puddle, staining both his feet and his clothes. Therefore, whoever's got muddy feet and muddy clothes… is our culprit!"
The crowd erupted in applause, praising his deduction like gospel. Shun and Gronn also folded their arms, about to nod in approval when—
— "Wait a minute…" – Shun squinted, pointing. – "Then why… is there mud all over your shirt?"
Silence fell instantly.
All eyes turned toward him. Sure enough, the back of his shirt was smeared with mud, and his feet—completely bare, caked in dirt from heel to ankle.
The man stammered, waving his hands nervously:
— "Ah… ah… I, uh… forgot to put on my shoes in the rush! Ha… ha ha…"
The crowd stared at him. Then, after a long pause—
— "Tie him to the tree!"
And so the self-proclaimed "detective" was strung upside down to a tree trunk behind the lodge.
Shun and Gronn went right back to squabbling for a while, but exhaustion finally got to them. Before they knew it, they had dozed off on the ground, clutching the recovered chicken tightly in their arms.
The next morning.
Hollombo stepped out the back door, only to freeze at the sight before him: the mustached old man dangling upside down from a tree, while beneath him Shun and Gronn lay fast asleep, hugging the missing chicken like it was treasure.
Hollombo rubbed his forehead with a heavy sigh:
— "What a bunch of troublemakers…"