"You're always like that," someone once said to me.
I can't recall who it was at first. Ah, now I remember - it was my junior colleague at the company I used to work at.
Though it may not come across in writing, I don't think she meant it negatively. She would often say this to me with a little laugh whenever I did something.
She really looked up to me as her senior colleague. I was the one who taught her everything from skills and knowledge to workplace etiquette when she first joined the company fresh out of school. But it was I who gained energy from her cheerful demeanor.
I wonder how she's doing now. I hope she's still as spirited as ever.
And now, the exact words she used to say were being directed at me again.
"You're always like that!"
But this time, there's no mistaking the negative tone.
"Sara," I said, "speak to me affectionately, like I'm your senior colleague."
"Why would I do that! No way!"
See? This thoroughly un-cute reaction - this is the problem. My junior colleague was so much nicer. She had this cute and innocent vibe, like a baby animal.
I wish I could summon her here instead, O King.
"So...what was it you wanted again?" I asked.
"Don't tell me you weren't listening! It's a job request! From An Chain!"
"Oh...right."
After finishing up the last job request, I had been taking it easy and relaxing. And by relaxing, I mean really relaxing.
I don't think I've ever experienced such an uneventful period since coming to this world. I would go adventuring during the day to earn living expenses, setting aside just enough to get by and using the extra to pay off my debt little by little.
With nothing to worry about, I was living each day with the carefree feeling of a college student on summer vacation. The only annoyance marring this idyllic lifestyle was Sara visiting me almost daily to check if there were any new requests from An Chain, then scolding me when there weren't.
This had been going on for a week, then two. And now, just when I was getting used to the peace and quiet, a letter of request finally arrived from the boss. I checked the contents, then tossed it in the trash can.
But as luck would have it, Sara suddenly appeared in my room right then and noticed the discarded letter in the trash. She said she had sensed something amiss with my behavior and decided to check on me.
And so now I stood there with the guilty look of a husband caught cheating as Sara read the letter I had tried to hide.
"What's this?" she asked.
"No, you've got it all wrong! You have to believe me!" I pleaded.
"There's no misunderstanding when you threw it in the trash. Or what, is that trash can your safe or something?"
"Oh, right. It's important stuff. A nice oba-chan at the junk shop gave it to me for free."
"It's not junk then!"
Geez, this girl is merciless. But still, who throws away things like this?
"It's a request from An Chain, and it's been a while! You have to accept it!" Sara insisted.
"Ugh, don't wanna," I groaned.
"Some nerve you have saying that when you're still deep in debt!"
"Hey, I've been slowly paying it back, right? And my earnings as an adventurer haven't been too shabby lately."
I had recently reached C-rank as an adventurer. Ranks were used by the Adventurer's Guild as a measure of an individual's abilities.
Ranks ranged from A at the top to E at the bottom. The higher your rank, the more difficult requests you could accept, and you'd also be treated better by the Guild.
I was right in the middle at C-rank. In other words, a decent, middle-of-the-road adventurer. Middle-of-the-road...not bad, right? Has a nice ring to it.
Satisfied with my current progress, and given that I really didn't need to take this particular request from An Chain, I saw no reason to accept it.
The content of the request was this:
"Anyone will do. Win the upcoming martial arts tournament being held in the Empire. There's something I'm concerned about. Oh...participation is voluntary. Seek the mark of the victor in this bloody festival."
That's it. Let me make this clear right away - this guy's messing with me!
I can totally tell just from the half-hearted way it's written. I mean, come on! Every time, he makes these vague, roundabout requests. Why not just be direct for once?
Oh...wait. Don't write that kind of meta-commentary in the letter itself.
"Don't you lack self-awareness as a member of An Chain?" Sara said.
"I left all that stuff back home with my parents," I replied.
"What are you even saying..." Sara trailed off as she noticed something while skimming through the letter. Huh? Was there a second page?
She glanced over it briefly before looking back up at me with a sly grin.
"You didn't read through the whole thing, did you?"
"Uh--"
Sara handed me the second page, which read:
"Whoops, it'd be bad if no one entered, so participation is mandatory for all members under one year. Hehe...I think there's only one person that applies to. P.S. Nothing in life is free."
What? Does he mean me with the under one year thing? Screw you!
And what's with the "nothing in life is free" bit? Some excuse for not rewriting that sloppy first page? Screw you!
If you're gonna write that much, don't split it into two pages! Screw you!
I couldn't hide my anger. Sara looked satisfied at seeing me fume and said as she left, "Well, this time there's no need to gather information. The task is clear. I'll be waiting in anticipation, Mr. Debt-Ridden Adventurer."
Screw you!