Far From Vanilla: Modded Game Reincarnation

“Great work, as usual.” 

I set down a larger bundle of herbs and other foraged goods onto the counter. I picked more than enough to fulfill the job request to have some more to sell. By the time I was finished with the whole ordeal, my gloves were stained with green and pungent odors. 

“Sign here, please.” 

“Thanks again, Sherryll.” I thanked the desk clerk. Out of many of the attendants at the guild, she’s by far the most welcoming of me. Apparently something about me is ‘off’ to many others.

I have a lingering suspicion that it’s because of my race. Their reactions would only be explained through instinct. Demons are cannibalistic, self-centered, and often heartless. In fact, many of the depicted paintings on the ceiling of the church are brave saints and heroes who’ve vanquished evil-driven Demons.

There were monsters too, but considering high-level intelligence is more common in Demons than Monster-kind, we get a worse reputation. Also, I do stick out somewhat. But I’m glad I don’t have horns. 

Is six-feet really that uncommon? Surely not right? That must be a nutrition issue…

I need to talk to grandma about feeding Cody well-balanced meals.

Anyway, Sherryll, like the others, feels the same way, but she treats me kindly or kinder than they do. She at least has the decency not to go out of her way to make my life difficult. All in all, I’m thankful. 

Over this week, I’ve somewhat established a rapport with Sherryll. As long as we’re not unnecessarily rude to each other, we can get along fine. 

I removed my glove and pressed it into a cotton-swab of ink before pressing my finger on the large ledger book Sherryl was struggling to lug around. She waited a moment to let the ink dry and turned to me.

Like I said yesterday, fingerprints aren’t exactly something that should be used by this time. This system was someone's doing. 

That’s interesting food for thought. 

“Say Hyun, you’re a mercenary too right?” She asked. I blinked before nodding at her. “It was my shift on record yesterday and your profile got updated.”

A week’s lag. Pretty slow, if you ask me but then again, they’re still on the pen and paper system. If I remember correctly there are some jobs about deliveries. They’re apparently good for establishing a reputation.

The guild system was quite meticulous after all. 

“Really? That was fast.” I hummed to feign surprise. Sherryll immediately beamed into a smile, even if she strained to put the ledger away. “What about it?”

Sherryl made a thoughtful face and shrugged. “Nah, nothing. You’ve got a nice record, you caught someone that was causing trouble a block away from my house is all.” She gave me a thumbs up. “It's nice that someone’s cleaning up after the city. From what I’ve heard the Guards are having a hard time. Understaffed and whatnot.”

Oh? First I’m hearing of it, but come to think of it, it would make sense if someone like Rudolf would be guarding a bridge by the south gate. That would make sense If I wasn’t in the loop.

But from what I know, that’s not truly the case. Politics are involved behind the scenes. I’ve already notified Rudolf but I had to discreetly do it. I couldn’t use Cody anymore now that they have a target out of him.

 “You sure? From what I can tell, they are doing their jobs just fine.”

I had to wait until a job request came that specified the south gate’s area. They’re already aware of my meeting and situation and are being patient. 

Sherryl shook her head before leaning in to hide her mouth with her open hand, “No, that’s not what the old timers think.” She whispered while looking at her surroundings, “They say that there's suspicious activity in some areas. Soldiers being where and when they shouldn’t.”

I nodded, “I’ll be careful.” 

The situation seemed very suspicious indeed. I need to talk with Sherryl more. She seems to be very smart for some who look ditzy. 

“You better,” She crossed her arms, “I need you to keep working. You’re boosting my work here.” I chuckled as I shook my head. She didn’t mean as she worded it. 

“Alright then, got another job for me?” I said after looking behind me. 

The sun was high in the sky. It’s about lunch-time and I could get to the inn to get a bite to eat.

 “It’s still early in the morning, I might be able to work another job after lunch.”

“Glad you asked.” She smirked before reaching up onto the task board. She tore a sheet of paper from its nail. “Because You’ve been promoted!”

That puzzled me. I was currently F-rank, the second lowest of all the ranks, so why did he hand me a subjugation quest? 

“So quick?” I looked at her with suspicion. 

There’s no way I’m getting that promotion for free. Do you know how long ‘F’ and ‘E’ ranked work to get promoted? 

The guild system is very particular here and so your ranks aren’t dictated by singular strength but merits, commitment, dedication, and reputation. In some cases, groups and parties come together and form teams and those teams are under a single banner.

To my knowledge that is the fastest way to increase your rank, because not only are there more of you, a group can accomplish things a solo adventurer can't.

So for now, I’m a F-ranked adventurer as presented by my nametag’s ornament. I reached for the necklace that jingles on my neck, inscribed with my name, a tag carved out of wood with the letter ‘F.’ It was all that was bestowed upon me as per their hierarchy, and I have no problems with that. 

This wooden tag alone was an added benefit to your personal identification. So I wear that tag on my nameplate for additional identification with my Copper-ranked Mercenary nameplate. 

I’ve got the time to invest and I’m not in a rush at all and neither is the guild so why? That wouldn’t be fair to those that actually put in the time to be promoted.

The ranks go like this: Wood, Copper, Brass, Iron, Steel, and Gold. No one knows what goes after Gold but it's well known that there are seven tiers for both professions, ranging from F to S in that order, but it might as well be only six because the seventh tier only exists in legends. 

Simply, no one recently alive has ever reached that level. Even A-Ranked adventurers are scarce with over a handful in entire regions. My encounter with Ben Faux, an A-Ranked Adventurer was pure chance.

“Nearing over a millennium.” The Journal added. “No one has ever been exempt from the procedure, not at least to this degree. This system is quite old, nearly as old as me.”

“There’s no way that’s legal.” I frowned this time. It must’ve scared her with how much she paled.  “What do you want, Sherryl?” 

“Whoa,” She raised her hands in an attempt to appease. This was very suspicious. “Don’t shoot the messenger, I’m just relaying what I’ve been told. This wasn't my Idea.”

“Then who–” I was going to demand the name, but a heavy hand came on my shoulder and it pushed me aside. I didn’t resist but it would take much more effort than that to push someone of my stature. “Who–”

“Is this man bothering you, miss?” A voice asked from behind. It was a familiar voice. It came from the second man I’ve met since coming into the world. Authoritative, but not demanding.

But I didn’t say his name when I turned around. Something about his expression told me otherwise, instead questions arose. What is Rudolf doing here? What about the South Gate?

Was he always this strong?

On top of all that, I’m not the same as I once was when we first met. Was the gap between us this big?

“Chief!” Sherryl gasped in surprise. “What are you doing here, Sir!?”
“Nothing much, just a small errand.” He said with a polite smile wide enough for him to close his eyes. It threw me off considerably. He wasn't the type to smile genuinely.

 It’s creepy in a way. 

“Word around says there's a new promising recruit amongst the mercenary guild.” He said as he opened his eyes. He was looking at me, “Someone who’ll do a good job at the right price.”

“I-I-I s-see!” Sherryl tried to gasp, but instead stuttered. Rudolf seemed to be a feared man. “W-Were you the one who requested for h-him?”

“Yes.” Rudolf nodded his head, “I need someone like that to do something for me.”

“Then why ask for me? There are others with a higher rank than me.” I had to ask. What was so important that he needed to tell me in person and not through a letter like he always did? Granted, Cody is now practically in house arrest under the watchful eye of granny, but there were other options.

Or are there none?

“If I needed you to do Adventuring work, then that would be necessary as the adventuring code says.” Rudolf chuckled as he turned around to go for the door. “However the Mercenary Guild does not.”

“That's… true.” I hesitantly agreed as I followed him. I then noticed all the gazes our way. I knew that Rudolf’s presence alone was causing a scene, but for the whole guild to pay attention? He must really be someone of importance.

So why? Why is he stuck in such a back-water station? The North Gate is where all the monster subjugation quests are located, so wouldn’t it be smarter to have a power house like Rudolf  guard it instead?

“Then we don’t have a problem.” Rudolf said with a plain voice. He was back to his stoicism it seems. 

Even the Journal was perplexed by it all, he had been quiet up until now. “He doesn't peg me as a man who enjoys social gatherings. That might be a plausible reason as to why he’s on the south gate, alone with only one subordinate.”

Plausible as it may be, it wouldn’t be justifiable enough for a man of his caliber to do so. It was too menial of a conjecture to be valid, despite being logical. My thoughts continued to wander even as Rudolf’s feet already stepped out of the large open doorway.

“Please wait!”

But a loud, almost harsh grating voice came from deep inside the adventurers guild stopped him from leaving any further. We both turned to the source, an adventurer who was gaining reputation and some renown came to be as the source.

A man named Dariel was on the second floor of the guild, the lounge only available to the accomplished groups or high-ranking. He leaned over the balcony, waving for the chief guard’s attention, his name tag hanging as he did so.

A brown-haired man visibly in his early thirties, a large scar spanning his left jaw and through the bridge of his nose to his right-temple, a broad-shouldered, fierce-looking man that towered nearly at two meters.

My eye caught the dark glint of gray plates, a glimmer only found in steel, and it came from the two tags on him. I was familiar with Dariel, specifically his reputation in battle and his infamous obsession with rank. 

This was not good.