Glenn stared up at the abomination looming over him, a grotesque mass of writhing flesh and pulsating veins, limbs protruding out randomly from it. He focused his Mana and concentration, ready to unleash his Implosion spell.
Its monstrous form sent shivers down his spine. Glenn's heart raced as he prepared to strike. He aimed the spell at the abomination's face, trying to ignore the revolting sight before him. But as the energy gathered, something unexpected happened. The abomination's misshapen face contorted, and a human visage emerged from the mangled mass of flesh.
The Boss of the Auberge's face.
A feeble cry for help escaped the figure's lips just before Glenn released the ball of energy.
"Help..."
Glenn hurriedly tried to pull his energy back, but it was too late and the spell flew out, making contact with the monster’s face. A bright flash of white blinded Glenn, forcing him to blink. It took him a few seconds to realize he was in his bed, and the blinding light was the sun coming from the window.
“...Shit…” He muttered as he rubbed the tiredness off his eyes. Knocks on the door drew his attention in, shattering the remnants of his unsettling dream. Glenn reluctantly climbed out of bed, annoyed and disoriented. He yawned and stretched, before quickly putting on the black attire he had acquired from Howard Jefferson’s chest. The clothes were stained with dry, smelly blood, while the shirt he had been using was ripped to pieces. He decided at the last second to just throw away the shirt and close the black coat.
“I’m gonna need to clean this eventually…” Glenn sighed as he quickly bandaged his left hand. He had expected to hear some kind of complaint from Diamanes, but the latter remained silent. Perhaps he was still sleeping. An evil hand can sleep? Well, why couldn’t it?
Opening the door, Glenn was greeted by the familiar smiling faces of Sir Reginald and Sahro, who had been roused from sleep just before him. Sir Reginald tipped his top hat, his mustache bouncing with the movement.
"Good morning, dear Fixers. I came to deliver your Silver identifications, so here they are."
From his coat, he produced two daggers, their hilts shimmering with a silver hue. Glenn examined one closely, discovering that the blade itself was crafted from silver, etched with intricate runes. The memory of losing his Magi Brotherhood recommendation resurfaced, and he couldn't help but voice his concern.
“What if we lose them?"
For a moment, Sir Reginald appeared perplexed, but then a polite chuckle escaped his lips as he covered his mouth with a gloved hand, "Oh, yes, of course. Well, you don't have to worry about this. Just infuse some Mana into it, I'm sure you're both capable of it."
Glenn and Sahro followed his instructions, infusing Mana into their daggers. The blades glowed with a soft, blue radiance before vanishing into thin air, dissipating into a cloud of white particles.
‘What the hell?’ Diamanes’ voice rang through Glenn’s head, unable to contain his displeasure, ‘Who the hell sent a knife in my place?’
Sir Reginald cleared his throat and summoned his dagger from thin air. It materialized in an intriguing display of magic, with white particles emerging from his right hand, gradually forming the complete dagger. This one had an ebony scabbard and a handgrip adorned with ruby, making it more elaborate than its silver counterparts.
"The daggers provided to Silver-ranked Fixers and above have a Soulbound enchantment. They will be safely stored within your soul," Reginald explained as his dagger dematerialized and returned to its ethereal state.
Glenn gazed upon his hand, as he willed for the dagger to manifest itself. The weapon appeared similarly, appearing from thin air through a mass of white particles.
"That's interesting..." he commented, lost in his thoughts. Sir Reginald let out another cough and took out a sheet of paper.
"Hrm, of course, if it gets destroyed one way or another, you'll be entitled to pay the fee for the original cost of the dagger plus the cost of replacing it. So, I'd advise not to use it beyond its original purpose."
Glenn grabbed the sheet of paper and gave it a quick read. His eyes widened and his face paled as he swiftly went over the dagger’s cost, “Holy sh– Two gold coins for one dagger?!?"
Sir Reginald smiled awkwardly, rubbing his chin, "Hmm, yes, it's indeed a little expensive. So, don't break it, alright?"
Glenn carefully made the dagger disappear back in his soul, sighing in relief knowing that it was safely stored away and out of risk of breaking. Suddenly, a realization struck him. He took the Magi Recommendation plate out of his dimensional pouch, inviting a gasp from Sir Reginald who couldn't help but stare at it.
He then sent some Mana into it, the plate shining with a deep blue hue before disappearing in yet another cloud of white particles.
'So that's why there was no warning against losing it. Because it wasn't possible to lose it in the first place,' Glenn mused, coming to this realization.
Sir Reginald clapped his hand, his previous surprised expression gone, replaced by his usual polite expression. One of his eyelids twitched, betraying that he was still a bit in shock.
"Alright, I'll be showing you how to take your first contract and present you to your instructor. After that, you'll be free to do whatever you want."
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As they followed Sir Reginald through the hallways of the Dormitories and out of the building, Glenn bumped into a robed figure in the doorway, offering a quick apology.
"Sorry."
"..."
The person he had bumped into was a robed individual, and a faint scent of mint surrounded them.
'Could it be them again?' Glenn wondered, recalling the strange fighter with bending magic they had encountered during their test and the abomination fight and during the Fixer evaluation. However, he decided to set aside his curiosity for later.
He followed Sir Reginald and Sahro, still wondering who could be possibly weird enough to perfume themselves with mint. They soon arrived in the main lobby of the Cleaner's Workshop, standing before a contract board. Since it was early in the morning, there weren't many people around. Sir Reginald examined the board for a moment before plucking a contract from it.
He handed the paper to Glenn, who read it aloud for Sahro's benefit.
"Silver request: [Solve the Rift problem under the bakery]. Reward: [twenty-five silver, ten contribution points, the baker's gratitude]".
Glenn turned back to Sir Reginald, a puzzled expression on his face, "What's a Rift?"
Sir Reginald rubbed his mustache as he considered the question, "Well, a Rift is... an opening in King's Rise defenses. You're probably aware that zones with high concentrations of Mana have a high chance of creating random monsters. Mutated beasts or beings of Mana, it can happen anywhere at any time."
Glenn and Sahro nodded, one because he knew, the other because he couldn't afford not to.
'I can't wait to get in the Library and fill in all the blanks in my missing common knowledge,’ Glenn thought shamefully.
"King's Rise isn't supposed to allow monsters inside. However, sometimes a rift can form, gradually summoning monsters until it eventually explodes, unleashing a horde of them,” Reginald explained with an ominous expression. He shook his head and rubbed his mustache, "Your task is to deal with these rifts before they become a larger threat. Rifts are the main sources of contracts for the Cleaner's Workshop."
The gentleman then walked toward the counter with the attendants and gestured toward them.
He continued, "Now if you'd be so kind as to show the contract to the ladies at the counter, they will mark it as accepted. And don't worry about wait times; as Fixers, you enjoy certain privileges."
Glenn smiled awkwardly at the attendant, the same who took care of them for their registration, Alisson. She smiled naturally, not giving any of the bizarreness that Glenn had previously found in her behavior.
"Hello, Sir Reginald, Glenn, Sahro. Can I help you?" She tilted her head inquisitively. Sir Reginald smiled back and handed her the contract. Sir Reginald explained their purpose, and Alisson took the contract, quickly reviewing it before stamping it with approval. She noted something in a nearby document and handed the stamped contract back to Glenn.
"Here you go. You can undertake the request at your convenience, but remember, you have forty-eight hours to complete it,” She smiled widely.
Glenn nodded and stored the contract in his dimensional pouch. When Alisson mentioned the reward-sharing aspect due to two people being on the contract, he simply responded, "Naturally." Sahro seemed indifferent to the reward, scoffing at the mention of it.
Sir Reginald turned toward them, a wide smile on his face. "And there you go. I'll leave you gentlemen at your business, as I'm sure that you'll be able to take care of a Silver-ranked request easily. Have a nice day."
With their task assigned and accepted, Sir Reginald excused himself, leaving them to take care of the contract on their own. Glenn couldn't help but wonder about the enigmatic gentleman.
'This Sir Reginald is quite the elusive character,' thought Glenn, observing the fleeting gentleman.
'Indeed. I can feel some power from him, but I don't understand it,' commented Diamanes from inside Glenn's mind, 'It's kind of similar to those strange attendants, but I can't say yet. But if you were at the Third Circle—’
Glenn groaned, ‘Yes, yes, I know, you will probably be able to make me the strongest once I’m at the Third Circle, I know.’
Diamanes clicked his tongue, unhappy. Not that Glenn cared. He still noted the information about Reginald in the corner of his mind. If there was one thing that his guts were telling him, it was that something was going on in this Cleaner's Workshop. But, whatever that was, it would have to wait for him to get a bit stronger, and mostly, wealthier. And interested. Why would he care so long as they didn’t hurt his interests?
Glenn and Sahro left the lobby, heading outside of the Workshop. As they walked along the streets, searching for the bakery, Glenn observed the names of the streets engraved on the ground at each corner. It was a unique and practical method of labeling streets that he hadn't noticed before.
The place where the names were inscribed never got dirty, somehow. Glenn knew because he pushed a bit of dirt with his feet on it, only to witness the dirt being pushed away by some invisible magic. The Cleaner's Workshop stood on Central Street, No. 13, right in the heart of the Northern Town. The other buildings on the street housed residents or small shops.
Their destination, the bakery, was on Rampart Street, running alongside the massive wall that separated the Fringe and the Bourgeoisie. Glenn turned to Sahro, eager to formulate a plan.
"We don't know what to expect, but being proactive wouldn't hurt. Let's aim to complete this quickly."
Sahro agreed, echoing Glenn's sentiment. "It's just a Rift; there might be a monster or two at most. Even you can handle a few goblins, right?"
Glenn shot his companion a deadpan look. "I'm pretty sure I can handle more than a few goblins."
The Black Heir shrugged nonchalantly. "If you say so."
Glenn let out an exasperated sigh, realizing there was no point in arguing further. They eventually arrived in front of the bakery, a modest establishment with the sign "The Hearth's Bakery" displayed above the entrance.
Sahro couldn't help but voice his skepticism, "It's hard to believe they're baking bread in such a tiny place."
Glenn blinked and looked at his friend with curiosity. "Why, what did you expect?"
The Black Heir scanned the bakery from top to bottom. "I don't know, something... bigger, I guess? Isn't bread something rare and precious ?"
Glenn contained a laugh and patted Sahro’s shoulder silently. The door bore a "Closed" sign, as the lack of activity inside confirmed. They knocked on the door, waiting for a response. After a brief wait, a high-pitched voice called out from behind the door.
"Give me a minute!"
The sound of jingling keys followed, and the door swung open to reveal a slightly flustered, red-faced lady. The baker was a petite woman with a round figure and a round face. Her rosy cheeks accentuated her warm smile. She had pursed lips, wore practical glasses, and sported a no-nonsense haircut.
"I already told you I can't pay until you—oh?"
Her annoyance evaporated when she laid eyes on the two strangers at her doorstep.
"Who might you handsome gentlemen be?"