The air in the Guild's butchery was thick and stifling. The scent of blood, old iron, and monster ichor permeated the entire space. The stench of decay from the monsters stung the nostrils. Small, scurrying rats occasionally darted across the corners of the room, awaiting scraps of meat to fall to the floor.
Artha sat on the small stool where monsters were usually processed. The small knife in his hand scraped roughly as he sliced open the belly of the Stonehide Boar. Thick, black fluid oozed out, staining his arm and the clothes he wore. Fortunately, the butchery had a drain for the monster blood, so at least he didn't have to stand in a pool of it while working.
Artha seemed indifferent to his surroundings. He simply continued the work he did every day, without disgust, without reluctance. The stench of blood and monster flesh had become commonplace for him. Separating bone from bone, sinew from flesh, the sounds were like a mechanical mantra. He worked quickly, with precision, his clothes stained with the dried blood of monsters.
The entrance to the butchery creaked open, and a large man with heavy footsteps approached Artha.
"Oi, Non-Class." A burly adventurer in chainmail entered, his sword still dripping fresh blood. His smile was wide, but his eyes were full of disdain. Bran. A member of a mid-level party who often brought in the spoils of their hunts.
"Don't take too long, alright? We need this bill as soon as possible. If it's late, our cold drinks might go warm." He tossed a few copper coins onto the floor. The cheap metal clattered as it fell, spinning before coming to rest in a puddle of the boar's blood.
Artha turned slowly. His gaze was cold, almost empty. He didn't reply.
His hands continued their work, slicing through sinew with a single pull. Only after he was finished did he bend down, picking up the coins one by one. Blood clung to their surfaces, making his fingers even blacker.
Five copper coins. One coin could buy a stale loaf of bread at the bakery down the street. Three coins for debt, and the rest to survive for another day.
Bran chuckled, and with a rough, large hand, patted Artha's shoulder as if he were treating a slave. "Good work, Corpse Boy, don't forget to clean up the leftovers." He left, trailing the stench of cheap alcohol.
[Appraisal]
In the distance, a translucent, greenish screen appeared in his vision, highlighting Bran's figure.
[Warrior – Lv. 31]
— His sword didn't even fully penetrate the Stonehide Boar's hide. Waste of energy.
Artha exhaled, then opened his system panel.
Name: Artharia
Level: 24
EXP: 35,770/36,500
Class: Non-Classes
STR: 30
INT: 30
AGI: 30
VIT: 30
Skill: Appraisal
Skill Points: 64
-Bang- again, no level up. The remaining experience from the Stonehide Boar was like a speck of dust. At least I need to process monsters level 25 or higher.
The corners of his lips tightened, but no anger surfaced, only a blankness.
Years of work, butchering monster carcasses, hunting low-level monsters, even carrying goods when needed… While everyone else could level up easily, I was trapped at the lowest point in this world, unable to do anything. This System... it's truly unfair.
The sound of cheerful laughter echoed from outside the butchery. Artha glanced over; a boy was running around, carrying a glowing red crystal ball in both hands. "Look! I got the Blessing of Fire, I can become a fire mage later!" His innocent shout drew cheers from several adults nearby.
Artha's heart skipped a beat, hard, and then something dragged him back to ten years ago.
_***
A stone altar, everyone holding their breath.
Artha's small, trembling hand touched the crystal ball atop the stone altar.
The crystal remained clear.
Without a flash, no light.
The whispers turned to mockery.
The Priest said, "No blessing..."
The Priest bowed his head in disappointment, his face showing pity for the innocent child.
Artha's parents were stunned, not knowing what to do.
Cold, Artha's chest felt frozen, and the world became silent, except for a ringing sound piercing his ears.
_***
Artha blinked, and the boy's voice was gone. All that remained was the smell of blood from the butchery.
He returned to cutting the bones, his eyes cold.
"Artha."
Another heavy voice broke the silence. A pot-bellied man in a tattered robe stood in the doorway, a parchment scroll bound with a rope in his hand. His face was greasy, with a mocking smile that Artha had seen far too often.
"Don't forget, this week's installment is still unpaid. My boss is starting to lose patience."
The man tapped Artha's cheek with the scroll, as if playing with a pet dog.
Artha didn't flinch, no anger on his face, only an empty stare.
Artha took out three copper coins and handed them to the fat man.
"I'll pay the rest tomorrow."
The Debt Collector chuckled. "Three copper coins, eh? That's better than nothing." He left without waiting for a reply.
Artha looked at his hands, covered in monster blood. He clenched his fists.
Seven copper coins every week, and still 4 gold coins and 91 silver coins left.
The knife in his hand felt heavier.
He stood from his stool, carrying the cart filled with bones, sinew, and the Stonehide Boar's meat. As he was pulling the cart out, commotion erupted from the Guild's main hall.
"New quest posted!" someone shouted.
Artha, pulling the cart, approached the reception desk to hand over the processed monster parts and read the new quest that had appeared.
[Eliminate the Ogre in the Whispering Woods]
Reward: 5 Silver Coins.
"Only 5 silver coins as a reward?"
"Whoever posted this quest is clueless, an Ogre is worth only 5 silver?"
"Leave it be. It's probably from a poor village near the forest."
'5 silver coins, 2 silver coins is enough to eat for a week, and the remaining 3 silver coins can be used to pay off the debt.'
"Hey look, a new mission! Let's take it!" a young man said.
"That's an Ogre, you idiot. We just changed classes today at school, and you already want to fight an Ogre?"
Seeing the group of academy students wearing beginner gear in front of the notice board pulled Artha into another memory.
_***
Artha was 15 years old, hope suppressed, re-entering the class-changing room. A teacher and a supervisor stood next to a magical device, the teacher with an anxious look, and the supervisor with a bored expression.
The supervisor told Artha to stand on the magic circle in the center of the room. A blue light swept over his body, and his system screen flickered, displaying not Warrior, or Mage, but rather the all-too-familiar and painful words:
[Non-Classes Lv.5]
The teacher looked at him with disappointment, and the supervisor scoffed, "Next. Don't waste too much time."
He was dismissed just like that, without explanation, as if he had no value anymore.
The same empty and bitter feeling he had at 8 years old, the moment he realized he had no more hope.
_***
"Oi, kid!!" A harsh shout jolted Artha from his bad memory.
"Get out of our way!"
Artha shifted slightly to the side, without anger, and stared blankly at the receptionist as he handed over the processed Stonehide Boar results from Bran.
"Is this Bran's Stonehide Boar?"
Artha nodded.
"I'll start calculating."
Leaving the cart, he sat down at one of the Guild's tables.
As a glass of water was brought to him, a large man approached. Without checking who had come, Artha replied,
"I already handed it in. That woman is calculating your results."
When the usual answer wasn't received, Artha glanced forward to see a man with a large Shield on his shoulder,
"What do you need? A monster processor?" Artha asked.
"No, I need a porter. We want to enter the Level-30 Manticore Nest dungeon. We heard you're a tough Porter with good analytical skills? How much will it cost?"
"Level 30 dungeon, Manticore Nest, huh? 30 silver coins?" Artha answered coldly.
"Alright, tomorrow, at 8 AM, we'll be waiting for you here."
The large man produced a pouch filled with 30 silver coins. The clinking of the metal was sharp in Artha's ears.
"This is an advance payment. If the expedition goes smoothly and we all return safely, you'll get another pouch of the same size as a bonus."
Artha's hand received the pouch. The weight was real. 30 silver coins. That was equivalent to six weeks of work butchering carcasses non-stop. This could pay off several weeks of his installments at once.
But his mind immediately worked quickly, analyzing like a machine.
[Appraisal]
He glanced at the man discreetly.
[Guardian Knight - Lv. 48]
— Status: Anxious. Wary of something.
*A level 48 Knight... paying 60 silver coins for a porter? That's not normal. Strong parties usually have their own members who handle carrying goods. Or they hire cheap porters and don't care if they die. This kind of bonus...*
This isn't a bonus. This is the price for risk.
"Manticore Nest Level 30," Artha muttered, his voice flat, more to himself than to the Knight. "Then why is a level 48 Knight so anxious? Is there a (mutation)? Or... is something hunting you inside that dungeon?"
He looked directly into the Knight's eyes; his gaze was no longer that of a porter, but that of someone who had long learned to read danger for survival.
"That bonus," he said, lightly tossing the silver pouch in his hand. "Feels more like money to buy my life, which you consider expendable. What's really going on in that dungeon that's not listed in the quest?"
The Knight was silent for a moment, surprised by the sharp analysis of a butcher who everyone else considered to be trash. The wrinkles on his forehead deepened.
"You're smarter than I thought," he finally admitted, his voice low. "There is indeed... a complication. But 60 silver coins is a fair price for that uncertainty, isn't it?"
Artha looked at the silver pouch in his hand. He could feel its weight, both literally and figuratively. The money could free him from the debt collector's grip, at least for a while. But that money could also be his death knell.
He wasn't a hero. He was a survivor.
Finally, with a slow movement, he tied the silver pouch to his belt. His decision was made.
"8 AM. I'll be here," he said, his voice returning to its flat, unemotional tone. "But know this, if the situation is more dangerous than you say, I'm running. Your money will be useless to me if I die."
He turned and walked away, leaving the stunned Knight. In his mind, the calculations were already running.
*60 silver coins. Enough to buy the cheapest "Class Book"... or to pay off the debt for the next three months. But first, I have to survive this dungeon.*