"Your Majesty, Miss McArthur," Master Merit called through his rough breathing. "I'm glad I caught you."

"Is everything okay?" Daz asked in concern.

"Oh, more than okay, Your Majesty!" Master Merit claimed as he took a quick moment to catch his breath. "I came rushing over the instant I sensed a great opportunity to generate pure profit appearing. I would be a fool to ignore such a thing when my main goal is to be the richest person on planet Earth."

Daz smiled. "You're ambitious, huh? That'll be tough with me around and with Davido Hamilio."

"Ah, I'm not concerned about you or him, with all due respect, Your Majesty. Riches don't only include merit points and merit stars, after all. As soon as the tests end and we're allowed access to the greater system I have no doubts in my mind that I'll soon become a powerhouse as far as wealth goes," the portly man with a grand moustache claimed confidently.

Daz nodded stoically. "It's good to have an overarching goal." He turned his back and then walked towards the entrance of the Mercenary Guild with Madison's hand in his.

Master Merit quickly matched his pace with his king then asked, "Do you have such an ambition, Your Majesty? I'm firm of the belief that such a thing is incredibly important for personal growth."

Daz raised an eyebrow. 'This guy's a lot more curious now that he's had a month to settle in, huh?'

The reaper shrugged. "I have a few important plans, yeah. My primary one is to have New Earth expand and cover the entire planet."

"Very ambitious indeed, Your Majesty, though such a thing is almost certain to happen before the tests conclude. I even suspect it may be the final test - to become the sovereign of this lovely little planet we call home," Master Merit said with a very oily smile. "What the common folks' goal will be at that time is still a mystery to me, unfortunately."

"Only time will tell," Daz responded as he pushed open the doors to the building.

"Indeed..." Master Merit replied ambiguously.

Surprisingly the interior of the Mercenary Guild was rather rustic in design. A large chandelier made of bones big enough to have come from a dragon or a dinosaur hung from the ceiling as its many fang-like candles illuminated the room.

All across the walls could be seen several empty notice boards, each with a number above it ranging from 1 to 10.

At the back of the room was a long counter with 15 people evenly spaced behind it, each of which was furiously flipping through paperwork.

The floorboards creaked beneath Daz and Madison's feet as they curiously walked through the building.

Daz noticed a set of stairs on both the left and the right side of the room, the left set heading up, the right heading down. "There's a basement?"

Master Merit twirled his moustache as he nodded. "Indeed. They need somewhere to store gathered materials and whatnot before processing them and transporting them to their headquarters, no?"

"Headquarters?" Daz didn't quite understand. "Isn't this a system-run business? Wouldn't it all be linked together kind of like the travelling bank?"

"Ohoho, no, Your Majesty. Even if it belongs to the system, I'm almost certain it didn't at one point. Regardless, this particular guild is restricted to only mark-4 highest class missions even if the building itself can handle up to mark-10 highest class missions," Master Merit explained.

"Hmm." Daz noticed the workers behind the desks quickly rushing out to the floor and rapidly pinning missions to the various boards. "So no star requests?"

Master Merit seemed shocked before he smiled sharply. "You are rather well-versed on this topic, aren't you, Your Majesty?"

"I could say the same about you," Daz replied.

"Ohoho, money and information are tied by an unbreakable bond, Your Majesty." Master Merit was talking to Daz respectfully but the eyes hidden behind his glasses were very accurately and very diligently taking note of every request that the workers were pinning up on the notice boards. "I'm unsure what level the guild needs to be at to allow promotion to a star mercenary, but it most certainly isn't something that we can hope for in the short term. Star quests are known to reward solar credits, after all. A realm of money we simply cannot even begin to fathom at our level, Your Majesty."

'Wow. He really can talk when money's a concern, huh? Definitely a useful guy to keep around, though if money's all he cares for then loyalty is a very serious concern...' Daz was having those patented paranoid thoughts of his again, though this time he felt that they were more justified than usual.

"Ahem, well, Your Majesty, Lady McArthur, it seems that the lovely employees here have finishing organising and pinning up all of the missions for today. I shall now go and take the exam to gain my mercenary license. I trust you both shall do the same?" Master Merit asked politely.

Daz nodded. "Yeah. There's no reason not to."

"Excellent. I can smell the economy simply flowing through New Earth," Master Merit said in an almost orgasmic manner. "Ahem, ah, before I go, Your majesty."

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"Hmm?" Daz gave him a nod to speak.

"I've recently been working hard to develop a form of local currency to be used exclusively on Earth with the long-term idea of you becoming the planet's sole ruler," the portly suited man explained. "We simply cannot rely on the system for everything, especially internal matters. A local currency is an absolute necessity. If you need any convincing, my main selling point would be that having a strong internal currency completely separated from the system will give us great power when negotiating trade with foreign entities if and when such a time comes."

Madison had tilted her head as she tried her best to follow what was being said. She was smart, but she had never thought about nor studied economics, really. Daz did that when they were still poor, not her. Every word the chubby little man said only sent her into a deeper state of confusion, though she was keen to listen and learn.

Daz, however, perfectly understood Master Merit. "I've been considering that myself, actually. My train of thought is more aimed at completely being independent of the system while also welcoming its usage, but sure. Talk to Lyle. Let's set up a meeting about this to go over it in more depth."

"I shall absolutely do so, Your Majesty," Master Merit said with a short nod. "Well then, if you would please excuse me." The portly man then approached an employee.

Daz turned to look at Madison and said, "I wonder what the test is."

Madison tilted her head. "Fighting?"

"Only one way to find out," Daz said. "Well, I'm sure there's actually several, but let's get tested, shall we?"

The pair went to two of the other employees. Daz imagined that the woman Madison had gone to would struggle to understand his lover's request but he was sure her meaning would get through eventually.

"Hello, Sir. How might I be of assistance?" Perfect English flowed from the middle-aged man's mouth as he smiled charmingly towards Daz.

"I'd like to get a mercenary licence," Daz said.

Nodding, the employee replied, "Of course, Sir. There is a base charge of 1,000 merit points as well as a test. Should you fail the test the fee is not refundable. Is that okay with you, Sir?"

"Yeah, that's fine," Daz replied.

"Lovely. I'll have to ask you some questions first. I assume that's not an issue?" the man asked.

"Yeah, go ahead." Daz had never answered questions in a job interview before and this seemed rather similar to that, so the reaper was sort of looking forward to it.

As for when he was employed to work at the skip site, his boss had hired him on the spot since he had decent muscles and seemed boring enough to not cause any trouble.

"Excellent. Well, could you tell me your name, please?"

"Daz."

"Is that your full name, or just your preferred name?"

"Both. I disowned my family name and do not accept my given name."

"I see. And how old are you, Sir?"

"20."

"And by Earth's calendar, when is your birthday?"

"15th of December."

"Ah, you'll soon be 21. Early congratulations are in order. In your opinion, what is the most powerful monster or being that you have battled against? It's okay to answer with nothing if that is the case."

"Hmm. That's a bit difficult to answer."

"Please, take your time. There's no rush. You can also abstain from answering should you wish to, but it may affect your record. The system verifies everything you say, so if, for example, you have bested a slime in combat then it will look better than if you had bested nothing. All of this information is confidential."

"Well, considering what the mercenary guild is... I guess a Frost Pheonix?"

"I see. Very impressive. Assuming you pass the test, how often do you expect to be able to complete missions?"

"Once a week at the very least."

"Lovely. What is your current occupation? Being unemployed is perfectly fine, by the way. It won't affect your chances of passing."

"Monarch of New Earth."

"Ah, royalty. I'm glad to serve you, Sir. Who is your next of kin?"

"Why?"

"We need to know who to contact should you die during a mission, Sir. I know it might seem unlikely, but death always is in this line of work. It never hurts to be prepared."

"Fair. Madison McArthur and Rose Hamilio."

"Thank you, Sir. And what is their relation to you, exactly?"

"Madison is my lover, Rose is my younger sister."

"Ah, I see. And what would be the preferred contact method?"

"System message, I suppose."

"Of course, Sir. Do you have a known criminal record in any system-sanctioned bases, cities, colonies, megacities, planets, solar systems, or galaxies?"

"Not universes?"

"No, Sir. Criminals on the universal-scale are enemies of the system and would never set foot in a system-run business. It's meaningless to ask since the system would wipe them out of existence the moment it sensed them."

"Ah, I see. No. I have no crimes under my name as far as the system is concerned."

"Excellent. Finally, should you pass the test would you like a 10th of all of your mission earnings to be set aside and be put into a special fund to pay for your retirement?"

"Uh, no. Thank you."

"Very well. If you'd give me a moment to file this, Sir, then we can begin with your test."

"Sure."

Daz was surprised. This was all a lot more professional than he had been expecting. 'That was kind of fun. It's like a quiz which you know all of the answers to. Still, a retirement fund? I don't need it since I have the bank's interest, but that's a novel idea. I guess it being run by the system gives it a lot of weight, and thus, expectations. With expectations comes the pressure to deliver quality, I guess.'

Daz did have to wonder what kind of powerful beings would be able to be classified as universal-scale criminals. 'Maybe gods that have gone rogue? They fall under the system after all, don't they?'

He stepped back from the counter to check on Madison and Master Merit. He couldn't hear the former presumably due to the whole 'confidentiality' thing, but she was trying her best to answer the employee's questions from the looks of it. As for the latter, he was gone.

'Trust Master Merit to fly through that quiz. I wouldn't be surprised if by the time I'm done with the test he's already taken every single mission he can accomplish with his strength. If I recall, he has maxed all of his stats, hasn't he? I wouldn't mind a fight against the champion of the God of Merits,' Daz thought.

"Sir, thank you for your patience. If you'd sign this and then press your hand against this marking here on my desk, then the test shall begin," the employee said, pulled back Daz's focus.

"Sure." Before signing Daz made sure to read the contract very thoroughly. Satisfied that everything was in order and that he wasn't being cheated, he signed with 'Daz' then touched the marking as he had been told to.

The marking itself was some sort of symbol that reminded him of a dragon, though the reaper was no expert on monsters or myths even despite his recent research into such things for the search of mythical cities, so as far as he knew it could have been something entirely different.

The marking lit up underneath his hand and then he and the employee were teleported away.

The two of them appeared in a simple rustic room which had a few devices in it, each seemingly with a differing purpose.

"Fantastic. Well, shall we start the test, Sir? If you need a moment to stretch, please, by all means. We are in no rush," the employee said as he readied a clipboard and smiled in a friendly manner.