“I am Pern, S-Rank Adventurer, lady knight and warrior, one and only with a success rate of ninety-nine point eight percent!”

She shouted at the bathroom mirror. Her catchphrase didn’t have the same ring that it used to.

“Grr… grr… grrrrrrrrr—”

“Girl, look.”

“Ah!” Pern was wearing nothing but a towel, and loosely at that. But Constance didn’t care.

Constance didn’t care much about anything right now. People who are rudely and blearily roused from sleep often don’t.

“Girl, look,” Constance repeated. “Your S-Rank won’t be stripped from you unless it dips below ninety-eight. So why don’t we all get some rest? It’s sleep o’ clock if you’ll notice the time.”

“But… ninety-nine point eight might as well be ninety. Both numbers sound the same to everyone else.”

“Pern.”

“It’s the left digit effect!”

Pern gazed at her reflection with wide, dark-underlined eyes. She trembled, and muttered various words under her breath. “Not perfect, not perfect, not perfect… failure… lady… failure… knight… failure.. girl… failure…”

Her words were soft, but would still be loud enough to slip under the bathroom door and crawl into Constance’s ears. Pern might as well have been chanting ‘stay awake’ to the Saintly Healer.

“Look. You know about the Guild’s mentorship rule, right? You’re such a goody-two sho— um, you were ‘good to show’ that greenhorn the ropes.”

“I was?”

“If you mentor a new Adventurer, and the quest fails, it doesn’t count against you. As long as that Adventurer clears another quest, which will surely happen at some point,” Constance yawned.

“So please rest easy… that blot will be off your Adventure Record before you know it. Just make sure to tell the Mazevale Guild bout this, ’kay?”

Pern gaped, then grinned.

“Huhuhu… hahahaha!” Pern laughed. “Yes… as long as that Rick finishes a quest… my Adventure Record will be preserved. That’s easy… a triviality… I, the S-Rank Pern will remain perfect! Perfect… one hundred percent infallible, invincible… undefeated and unbowed…”

Thank the Goddess I’ll be done with her soon, Constance thought as she slowly backed away. She might be Perfect Adventurer, but she’s a roomie from hell!

***

“One heaping order for the ‘Hero of Mazevale,’” Eliza said, as she served Rick his meal. “Paid to Room 103.”

Rick grunted. He couldn’t wake up til he had his morning beer.

“Since you saved its reputation, the Morning Lark promised you free meals and a room for the rest of your days. Yet you still want to bum off my Four-Leaf Inn?”

On their last quest, Rick and Pern slew ninety-nine elmens. When they searched for the slime elmens, they had found them thriving in a polluted water supply—the same water supply from which the Morning Lark drew.

The mayor was supposed to pay a certified alchemist to purify the water each week, but he’d been using the funds to pay an incompetent relative instead.

So while Rick had failed the quest, he’d successfully uncovered a government scandal. Unintentionally, Rick had claimed, though he had arranged for Cure to be made the new alchemist.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Four-Leaf has better drinks. Better food. Better ‘service,’ too.”

“When I run out of tape, you’ll sure be in trouble,” Eliza said, as she let loose Rick’s tab. It wasn’t just a scroll anymore; it was a scroll and half, stuck together. “Come to think of it, what happened to that girl, Pern? Can’t she pay this off for you?”

“We had a falling out,”

“What…? You had a falling out with her?”

“She’s good for my eyes. Bad for my brain,” said Rick. “More food, please.”

Though the fare at the Four-Leaf Inn was simple, its taste was warm and rich. The bread had a perfect crust that crunched and dissolved into flakes when one bit into it, and butter melted soft onto the crumb. The drumsticks were just a little damp, and tore easy off the bone.

As for the beer, it was cold and full of ice, with just a hint of spices. Eliza balanced the glasses carefully on the tray, brushing against Rick as she went to pass them to everyone else. Five Finger Sue wasn’t here today, but Righteous Tim was present with his mace-wielding partner, Tom Hawk. Tim ordered everyone a free round.

Rick polished off three beers, two breads, three drumsticks and a potato, and he drifted peacefully as the blood drained from his brain to his stomach.

This was the life. Good food… good friends… pretty women—wait, no, not like that.

“Well, well, well,” Pern said. “Rick, Rick, Rick.”

“I’m s’pposed to be in a daydream… so why am I having a nightmare?” Rick grumbled and she grabbed him by the hair.

“Join my party!”

Rick shook off his lethargy. Standing before him was Pern, in her traditional ill-cut mythril armor bikini. Behind her was a handsome mage, a narrow-faced rogue, and a dead-eyed healer who looked more like a zombie.

Matthew the Mage took Pern’s arm. That fact didn’t upset Rick; this was simply his observation.

“Stand back, Pern. I’ve heard rumors you’ve been having trouble with this E-Rank Adventurer and S-Rank sleazeball. How did you get her to work with you? Was it blackmail? Dark magic? Hypnosis? Aphrodisiacs? I can’t believe he knocked you unconscious and threw you to the slimes…”

“Pern, I’m surprised you’re asking me to join you. Your party seems pretty full already, doesn’t it?” Rick said. “There’s four heads to a group, and with Isaac, Constance, and Matthew’s two-facedness, that already makes five.

“S-Rank, you don’t have to fear this smarmy idiot. I’ll protect you,” Matthew said, as Pern moved away. He made an attempt to “protect” her thigh—and Pern kicked him in the crotch. “Oh!”

“I’m interested in Rick,” Pern said. “My perfect little mentee.”

“Mentee?”

“This’ll be free Adventurer training for you,” Pern carried on. “And I think our party just had a spot open up.”

Matthew rose again. His voice was tinged with a masculine pain.

“Lady Pern, his influence is truly unforgivable. Why, it’s almost as if you act on your OWn—”

Pern kicked Matt, and he kept on wheezing.

Rick thought about whether he actually enjoyed questing. He did like being the “Hero of Mazevale,” though that was really just what Eliza called him. The full title the townspeople gave him was that of “Mazevale’s Failure Hero”, which provoked very little emotion in the retired Adventurer.

A larger factor in his calculation was that taking another quest would be dangerous. Not just physically, but politically.

The old Mayor had resigned and King Erras had been forced to appoint a new one. This sounded like a good thing for Mazevale, and it was—but typically government scandals were handled behind closed doors. Making a public ruckus could be seen as rebellious or inciteful, and Rick’s reckless expose was very much frowned on.

If his next quest ended similarly, he might go from merely “frowned on” to “enemy of the state.”

“Hmmm…”

Most importantly of all, Rick was lazy.

“Heal the wound, healer,” Rick said. Matthew was frozen and hunched.

“I’d heal Matther, but I can only heal what I can touch.” Constance made a face. She picked up a carrot with both hands, and munched at its tip.. “So… you really should just come with us.”

“Nah.” Rick said. “Nah, nah nah. Today’s Martini Monday. I can’t miss Martini Monday. It’s once every seven days. No, I can’t do that. No, no…”

“S-Rank Adventurers can give out rank promotions, y’know.” Pern said. “And I just had a thought.

“What if I went to the Guild and told them that there was this wonderful, noble hero who saved his town’s water supply. That he deserves status. That he should be granted a heroic title, promoted to a top knight, sent on all kinds of prestigious quests across the world with limitless responsibilities. I’m the reason Guildmaster Risa took her position in the first place, so she’d have to listen to me ”

Rick paled at each compliment.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” Pern said. “Because that’s what you deserve.”