"That's Fear Suppression."

"It constantly simulates the prey's deepest fears and projects them as illusions, visible to everyone except the user. For adventurers with weak wills, even getting close is impossible."

The two people lying on the ground were prime examples.

Hearing this, Shadra suddenly understood.

No wonder the woman had looked at him with even more admiration after hearing his earlier words.

In that case, what he'd said earlier seemed more like modesty, which only added to his appeal.

"Could it be that it looked down on me and didn't even bother using its ability?"

In response to Shadra's excuse, the mage didn’t explain that it was a passive skill that activated on everyone without exception. Instead, she remained silent, examining Shadra like he was a luxury item.

After a while, she finally spoke."Even I was affected just now, only able to exert about 70% of my usual strength."

"But as an F-rank adventurer, not only were you able to stay standing, but you also performed beyond expectations. That speaks volumes. So..."

The mage squinted her eyes and, while speaking, began to move toward Shadra, her long, shapely legs wrapped in torn black stockings closing the distance.

The scent of roses wafted through the air as Shadra passively backed against the wall. When he had nowhere left to retreat, the mage stopped.

Now, they were so close that if either leaned slightly, their noses would touch.

The mage, taller than Shadra by half a head, looked down at him with a gaze of eager admiration, like someone eyeing an adorable pet. Shadra felt trapped, unable to meet her gaze.

Satisfied with his reaction, the mage seductively licked her crimson lips.

"So?"

He swallowed nervously, feigning panic.

The mage, seeing his reaction, chuckled foolishly and leaned in closer, her lips curving into a bewitching smile as she raised her right hand. With a loud smack, she placed it against the wall beside him, speaking boldly.

"So, how about joining my guild? Your potential is too great for me to ignore."

So it had come to this. Shadra had somewhat anticipated it.

The mage’s face moved even closer, and her wine-colored hair, exuding a rose-like fragrance, brushed against Shadra’s collarbone like a series of teasing, coiling snakes, making his heart itch.

"This is an informal invitation, but with my endorsement as an officer, you can come to our guild anytime. Just give your name, and you’ll be welcomed without even needing an interview."

"Are you serious? Inviting an unclassified F-rank like me to join your guild?" Shadra turned his head slightly, making a token resistance.

"Yes, so what do you say? If you agree now, I might even throw in a little..."

Her lips moved closer to his ear, her voice lowering seductively."...blushing reward."

Confident she had him cornered, the mage believed she had him wrapped around her finger. But just as she thought her victory was certain, Shadra made an unexpected move.

He raised his hands and, without hesitation, cupped her chest—through her clothes.

"Eh?"

The mage’s brain froze. She looked down at Shadra’s odd expression, then at her own chest.

Squeeze. Twist.

"Ahhh!"

Her face flushed red as she leapt two meters back, like a cat startled by a cucumber.

"What are you doing?!" Her eyes sparkled like peach blossoms.

Huh? What was this? Had she just been harassed? This wasn’t the pure, innocent boy she’d imagined! That groping technique—it was more like something a seasoned man would pull!

Shadra, however, looked innocent, spreading his hands helplessly."You harassed me first, so I just responded in kind."

He hadn’t expected her reaction to be so dramatic—he’d assumed she was more experienced.

Turns out she was a fake femme fatale.

Indeed, Shadra had seemed passive, but he was no stranger to such situations in other fantasy worlds. Being a harem king wasn’t new to him.

"Where did you even learn such words as harassment?!"

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The mage, face flushed, hugged her chest defensively, the affectionate glimmer in her eyes completely gone.

"Anyway, I don’t plan to join any guilds for now. At least, not until I’ve given it more thought."

Shadra steered the conversation back on track.

Joining a guild was inevitable—being a hero was never a solo endeavor. A hero without recognition was merely an outcast. But now wasn’t the time to commit. He needed time to choose the best guild for himself.

He’d heard the mage mention a Silver Shield Guild earlier. Did that mean there were also Bronze Shields? Gold Shields?

"Although, if you plan to keep inviting me in this way, I might be tempted."

Now that he’d seen her true nature, Shadra had no qualms about using it to his advantage.

"Like hell I would!"

She shook her head vehemently and leapt back again.

Little did Shadra know, that had been the first time anyone had touched her that way.

Of course, he could’ve been even bolder, saying something like, If you’re unwilling, you’ll have to watch me join another guild.

But Shadra had no intention of becoming some harem king. Delaying her proposal had already achieved his goal.

Though her fantasies were shattered, the mage still forced herself to show a determined look, silently vowing to find another way to recruit him.

After their ambiguous exchange ended, the mage sighed as if realizing something.

"Come to think of it, we haven’t introduced ourselves, have we? Strange, considering we just fought for our lives together."

She forced a smile and extended her right hand toward Shadra.

"I’m Alanna Eino. Nice to meet you."

"If you ever want to find me, just ask around at the Adventurer’s Guild. I’m usually there taking commissions, either diving into dungeons myself or leading a team."

The introduction should’ve ended there, but Alanna hesitated before adding more.

"My primary class is Mage, my secondary class is Red Mage. I’m currently level 34 and specialize in close-range elemental buffs and fire magic. I also enjoy using appraisal magic to identify treasures—it’s a personal hobby."

Was this her way of balancing the guilt from peeking at his stats?

"I’m Shadra. Nice to meet you."

Shadra memorized her name and gave a simple self-introduction.

After all, she’d already seen most of his details—there was no point in saying more.

Hearing this, Alanna frowned.

"Shadra? Is that a fake name? I’ve never heard of it before."

Appraisal magic couldn’t reveal a person’s name, so she couldn’t confirm.

She asked because Shadra’s combat experience seemed far too extensive for an unknown adventurer.

"I’m just an F-grade. Being obscure is normal, right?"

Shadra’s casual reply only earned her disdain.

"Heh, coming from you, that’s the least believable thing I’ve ever heard."

After distributing the supplies and leaving the cave, the two parted ways.

By relying on his fragmented memory, Shadra returned to his residence—Nains Town—just as dusk fell.

The streets were already deserted, illuminated only by dim magical streetlights. The shops, reeking of alcohol, women’s perfume, and roasted meat, still thrived. Among them was the Adventurer's Guild.

Speaking of which, the adventurer commissions in this world had a bit of a peculiar system.

The commission Shadra took didn’t bear the Guild’s official lion crest, nor was it tied to any bloodline, which meant it wasn’t a formal mission.For adventurers of rank F like him, receiving formal commissions from the Guild was near impossible—recommendations didn’t change that. Of course, drinking, eating, and lodging at the Guild? Always welcome.

But when it came to actual adventuring gigs, low-ranking adventurers could only survive through shady intermediaries like the Hunter’s Tavern.

Just as he was about to push open the tavern's door—releasing a mix of acrid alcohol stench and body odor—two dark hands suddenly shot out from the shadows of a dim alley nearby.

One hand clamped over Shadra’s mouth while the other gripped his chest, dragging him into the pitch-black alley.

The suddenness of it all left Shadra no time to react.

“Who is it?!”

Panic surged in his heart as Shadra instinctively reached for the small dagger at his waist to counterattack, but a slender finger pressed against his lips before he could draw it.

“Shh, keep your voice down.”

By the faint moonlight, a short-haired girl, half a head shorter than him, came into view.

Her cherry-red lips looked like they might bleed if pinched, her delicate brown eyebrows arched like willow leaves, and her captivating almond-shaped eyes completed a face of breathtaking beauty.

The girl was stunning—the most beautiful girl Shadra had ever seen, bar none.

For a moment, he even forgot he was being mugged.

Wait, no!

Shadra shook his head violently, dispelling the intrusive thoughts.

Despite his previous actions toward Aranna, he wasn’t the type to be easily swayed by a pretty face.While his soul resisted, his body seemed intoxicated, as if viewing the girl through some strange, enchanted lens.

It wasn’t her beauty that disarmed him—it was something deeper.

The rapid thudding of his heart.

The sensation overwhelmed him, making even breathing difficult.

This wasn’t some cheesy love-at-first-sight trope. It had nothing to do with his current personality. No, it wasn’t his heart stirring—it was the remnants of the original owner of this body reacting to her.

Connecting the girl before him to the mysterious figure tied to that "minotaur rescue mission," Shadra instinctively activated his most basic appraisal skill.

Unreadable gibberish filled his vision.

He wasn’t surprised. The low-tier appraisal skill had never been reliable; its only redeeming feature was that it left no trace detectable by the target.

“W-who are you?”

Caught at such a disadvantage, Shadra feigned ignorance to gather information.

But the pounding of his heart made his voice tremble slightly.

Hearing his question, the girl’s eyes sharpened, her expression turning serious, as if to say, Are you kidding me right now?

The two locked eyes in silence, neither speaking, tension mounting. Just as Shadra thought his heart rate might exceed 120 under her intense gaze, the girl finally looked away.

Only then could Shadra exhale.

“Tch, I actually had a sliver of hope for you today,” she muttered, her tone a mix of frustration and disappointment.

“Are you scared stiff? Yeah, that’d make sense. I mean, look at you—a useless waste of space. What did I even see in you back then? Don’t blame me for pulling you into the alley like this. If anyone saw us, and word got back to him, things would get ugly.”

Back then? Childhood friends? Him? A blonde-haired rival?

Shadra latched onto the keywords, piecing the puzzle together.

“So this is one of those tropes—where the strong childhood sweetheart gets stolen away by someone else...”

“Hey! What are you mumbling about? I’m talking to you—are you even listening?!”

The girl stepped closer, her brows furrowed, hands on her hips, exuding an aura of authority.

“N-no, it’s nothing!”

Seeing her approach, Shadra’s heart raced faster, his original personality almost overwhelmed. His hands nervously fiddled in front of his chest in an uncharacteristically girlish manner.

Seriously, how much did the original owner love this girl? He hadn’t been this nervous even when fighting a dragon.

“So, is there nothing you want to say to me?”

The girl’s voice was laced with accusation.

Faced with her question, Shadra felt helpless.

He didn’t even know her name, let alone why she dragged him here. But from her words, if she really was the original owner's childhood sweetheart, then phrases like “I had hope for you” and “word getting back to him” hinted at today being a significant day.

And despite hiding it from that blonde guy, she still insisted on meeting him.

Shadra’s thoughts raced, and within seconds, he finally responded: “I... I’ll do my best!”

This must be a runaway bride scenario, right? The noble traditions are forcing her to marry someone she doesn’t love, and she needs the original owner to save her.

“Huh?”

The girl looked at him like he’d just confessed to her in a cringey manner.

Shadra’s guess crumbled instantly.

“What nonsense are you spouting?”