"So, let me get this straight," Hallan rubbed his head in exasperation. "You want me to take out a loan so that you can build yourself a... what? A cafe? What in the world is that?!"

The man had taken the boy to his humble home under a thatched roof, and introduced him to his family. The wife was of the same age, and a very beautiful woman even in her years. She was busy tending to beef and vegetable soup by the fireside while tending to their young daughter.

The girl was about ten, with more than a passing resemblance to her mother. Red hair, blue eyes, and healthy pink skin. Unfortunately, Mera hasn't quite grasped the subtleties of not staring so openly at the strange and exotic boy that intruded upon her home.

"I don't know what that is, but if you mean an establishment of some sort, that's... a terrible idea," Hallan finally said. "Lad, You're a smart boy, and maybe one day you might be able to achieve something great. The government isn't stupid enough to neglect a bright mind. But what you're asking, it would put us in considerable debt, and without any sort of sustainable income even if we go with this plan. And even if someone did want to invest in... whatever a cafe is, they'd want full control. Commoners like us are too poor to afford something like this, and the nobility would never give us the respect to open something like this."

Hallan rubbed his head in exasperation. "And aside from the fact that only ones with the money are the nobility and merchant lords, the central bank of Esten would laugh us out of their bank," He shrugged. "I'm a stall owner. I just work for the man who owns a quarter of the market, enough to provide for my family. Besides, we don't have the men nor the connection to even begin."

"Hmm, I suppose it is a bit much to ask for," Jor blinked. "You said the adventurers seek out glory and fortune, yes?"

"Monster parts bring in good coin, and various magical items are even better. Finding a treasure deep in a dungeon is exceptionally rare, and the things that guard such treasures are unique and powerful," The man laughed good-naturedly. "If you think about even doing something so reckless, you'd be a quick lunch to even the mundane animals that roam our countryside, let alone even finding monsters that reside outside these walls."

"I suppose you're right," Jor turned to the man's family and bowed. "But, how do the adventurers find these dungeons? Are there certain types? And how are they formed?"

"Well, first of all, there are two distinct types of dungeons. The naturally formed dungeon that occurs should runes of civilization be found, or a magical tower, or anything really. Monsters congregate to such runes over the centuries, even after many millennia. The second is the type that occurs about spontaneously, and instantly, waiting to be found. Once the second type of dungeon is cleared, they disappear into the ether," Hallan hummed in thought. "They say it's a test for humanity, as a way to surpass our limits or some such nonsense by the gods themselves.

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"But, you don't believe it?"

Hallan snorted. "Oh, I have no doubt it's a work of some supernatural entity, but the gods? To test us? I can barely comprehend the gods, why should they gaze upon us, lowly mortals? No, I think it's the work of some evil, no doubt."

"I see...," Jor frowned.

"And, of course, there are certain dungeons ranked from the lowest F rank, to the highest being the S rank," Hallan took out a small booklet, worn out from years of use. "Then the average adventurers going on dungeons to the D ranks, then a higher level would be the C, then the elite would be the B rank. And of course, the A rank reserved only for the genius among elites who have achieved high enough level to attend,"

"And... the S rank?"

"Well, they're the legends of our world," The old man shook his head in wonder. "Gaes Gargas, an S rank Juggernaut-class warrior, of level fifty-nine, or so I hear. The strongest this country has ever produced."

A brief pause, as he waited for the wonder of hero worship to pass. "And how do you go about finding one of these spontaneous dungeons?"

Hallan's face blanked, as he looked down on the unusually calm child. That wasn't normal. "I'm wondering whether I should even consider kicking you out. Tell me, lad, are you going to look for the dungeon, with or without my help?"

At Jor's continued blank stare, Hallan seemed to resigned. He took to his feet and went to the only room in the house, and he could hear the shuffling of odds and ends being set aside. When he came back, he held a small blue stone, with a curious question mark-like rune carved into the stone.

"This here is a locator of sorts, to find an 'expressive', or 'spontaneous' dungeon. Its special enchantment created just for that. It should help you find what you're looking for."

"This should be very valuable among the adventurers, no?" Jor asked with a frown. "I'm sure such an object would be worth a great value among them."

"Oh, absolutely. It's the most valuable item I own. Belonged to my grandfather, in fact. In fact, this was supposed to be my daughter's dowry," The old man's laser focus gazed at him with unbridled concentration. "Call it stupidity or faith. Or something like hope. But, if you succeed, I want a guarantee of fifty-fifty on everything you've gained."

Jor's left brow raised in surprise. "A hard bargain. What makes you think I won't just take it and leave?"

"I don't," Hallan shrugged.

"Then, you have my gratitude." Jor bowed toward the rest of his family. "A pleasure, madam, Mera."

---

Hallan watched the boy leave, and his wife, Salena could only look on in horror. "Why? The price on that stone could have fetched us a good home for Mera."

"An investment. The boy's going to succeed, and we'll be all the richer for it."

Salena sighed softly. "You're a fool."