No to Being the Suffering Heroine!

In the Kingdom of Hervor, after crossing mountains and rivers, I finally arrived in a flashy armor that would stand out anywhere, only to change into a plain set of armor.

There, I decided to settle in a city called Vespians.

It was a livable city.

The bustling streets were lively, the security was excellent, and the prices were reasonably fair for a big city.

Well, it was still akin to a pseudo-Medieval setting, but in this world, that much is good enough to live comfortably for a lifetime.

I couldn’t achieve my original goal of living quietly, though.

…Well, actually, there was an unexpected problem. Something I should have thought of.

What problem, you ask?

Naturally, it was about my identity and profession.

Since I decided to live decently, I had to earn money to survive. But for me, that was an impossible task…

Unless I revealed my identity as Brunhilde Eisenstein, I would ultimately just be an unknown foreigner.

If I had a local who could vouch for me, that might have been different, but without such a person, I was no better than an illegal immigrant.

The only kind-hearted employers willing to hire someone like me were the tavern owners or the madams in the brothels.

If I had any special skills, I might have been able to apply for jobs in those industries.

Like a cook, a leatherworker, or a blacksmith.

In a real Medieval setting, that would have been impossible, but since this world is like a game, it was actually possible for women to do those jobs.

However, that was completely out of the question.

Because all I knew, whether it was Brunhilde’s body or my own, was how to effectively use my carotid artery.

So, what could I do?

If I didn’t want to become a prostitute, there was only one option left.

“Welcome! How can I assist you?”

It was one of the few jobs that even the identity-less riffraff and drifters could immediately get by applying.

“…I’ve come to register as an adventurer.”

I had no choice but to choose the path of an adventurer.

◆◆

From there, well, it was just as you’d see.

I became a rookie adventurer named Hilde, and after a month of various odd jobs, I managed to get promoted to a copper plate adventurer.

That was roughly about two weeks ago.

From what I remember, in that time, I think I killed around forty people. My party members who turned into marauders.

…It wasn’t my fault.

Really. It was all in self-defense!

Maybe because of the lenient hiring policy that accepts every riffraff and drifter, I felt like I was encountering trash about twice as much as when I was wandering alone.

Anyway, thus, I became a copper plate adventurer at the Vespians adventurers’ guild, earning the title ‘Iron Mask’ Hilde.

[Iron Mask]

Perhaps due to my habit of not taking off my helmet even when eating, and because I kept insisting, “It wasn’t my fault!” when I returned after wiping out my party members.

For some reason, that ridiculous nickname stuck to the front of my name.

How embarrassing.

Originally, nicknames are like badges of skill and reputation for adventurers.

Like “The Gale” this or “The Ogre Slayer” that. Something like that.

Should I say it was a proof that I was such a successful adventurer?

So adventurers usually rejoice when they get a nickname. It means their experiences are recognized by everyone.

However, that only applies to at least silver plate adventurers.

For someone like me, getting a nickname as a copper plate adventurer means….

How do I put it? It was akin to giving yellow epaulettes to a new recruit with a unique personality.

…A sign that I was treated like garbage, so be careful.

I was truly wronged.

Really.

Thanks to robbing marauders, my daily earnings reached about three times that of the average copper plate adventurer, but still, it was infuriating.

“If I can’t speak…”

Of course, even if I tried to explain, the receptionist just sighed deeply, like a sister looking at her runaway little sister who came back.

◆◆

Ah, the receptionist actually had a runaway little sister.

Her name was Yuni, if I recall correctly?

She was the little girl who ran away to another city just to spite her older sister, who wouldn’t let her become an adventurer.

Then, when she almost got caught and became a toy for a band of thieves, I happened to pass by and saved her.

That’s probably why the receptionist actively shielded me. If things went south, she’d end up with dozens of nieces and nephews.

Of course, it wasn’t just emotional gratitude; there were more realistic reasons as well.

The fact that I wiped out a dozen members of a band of thieves without a scratch meant that my skills were at least at the bronze plate level.

Being twenty and having bronze plate-level skills means I would have the potential to compete for silver or even gold within a few years.

From the perspective of the guild staff, they couldn’t afford to let someone like me slip away.

If the adventurer they were in charge of ranked up to silver or gold plate level, the bonuses they would receive would be substantial.

Ironically, though, after killing over forty adventurers in just a month and a half, I found myself discussing expulsion instead of promotion.

Honestly, that wasn’t my fault. The problem was that the concepts of conscience and morality had been flushed down the drain in this world!

If this isn’t some martial world, then where did righteousness go?

Think about it.

In a society where laws, justice, ethics, and order are firmly established, would I be getting called garbage?

I’d probably earn medals instead.

If a cop single-handedly took down a gang of one hundred fifty, they’d undoubtedly be promoted to chief!

“—Isn’t that right? I killed forty marauders; is there any accomplishment like that? Shouldn’t I be promoted to bronze plate instead of being expelled?”

Feeling a bit wronged, I lamented to the receptionist.

“…Hilde, do you perhaps lack something?”

Unfortunately, that was the disappointing response I received.

With a look that said, “Do you have no shame? How can you say that?”

“Huh? Ah, yeah. Well, that’s true.”

I nodded my head with a reluctant face.

It was a sudden outburst, but I was indeed lacking.

“Certainly, my parents are gone….”

“No, not your parents! What are you trying to make me look like an evil person…!”

Startled, the receptionist turned around, looking around as if she had just realized she was in the market missing her underwear.

“Were you not going to criticize me for not having parents?”

“What the…! I’m talking about conscience, conscience!”

Ah, was that what she meant?

In Korea, when you ask about someone’s well-being, it naturally refers to the parents, so I ended up misunderstanding.

Is this truly an “Eastern country of etiquette”? In a country where you ask about other people’s parents dozens of times a day, I had asked many questions like that myself.

“Conscience? That’s overflowing to the point of being troublesome.”

It’s probably spilling over.

If you were to split open my chest and look inside, you’d probably find that about 60% is filled with conscience. The remaining 40% is resentment.

“If I had no conscience, I would be a marauder, not catching marauders, you know that. A copper plate like me wouldn’t lose to them.”

“That’s…! So, that’s what… ah, seriously… Yuni…”

Whether she was struck speechless by my perfect self-defense or not, the receptionist closed her eyes and sighed deeply like a prosecutor who had just lost a legal battle.

“Ah, and. I’ve thought about it a bit.”

On a whim, I decided to add one more thing. Honestly, it was something I had been wanting to say for a while.

“Isn’t it a problem that you attach unverified party members? It seems I meet marauders more often because I only go out with the newly arrived drifters.”

That was undoubtedly the valid point. Even Socrates would nod in agreement and recognize defeat.

However, the receptionist wouldn’t concede defeat. She was a tough opponent.

“…Um, Hilde. Do you perhaps remember someone named Vedi?”

Vedi?

Who was that?

I tilted my head, blinking.

“…You don’t remember? That adventurer who went with you for a wild slime gathering request shortly after you started working with the rookie plates.”

Oh. I remember. There was such a person.

“…That was a mistake, I tell you.”

“Yes. It must have been a mistake. You did end up lopping off Vedi’s left arm when you were trying to ease the tension by patting him on the back, but you still brought him back.”

That was genuinely a mistake. It was a time shortly after killing over a hundred people, and I was extremely on edge.

I was more startled than Vedi whose arm got cut off.

“Rick just barely touched his armor with a stray arrow because he was clumsy, and Hamilton slipped on mud and lost his balance, right?”

“……”

Well… such “mistakes” did happen.

I had instinctively swung my sword when someone hit my back with an arrow, and when someone came up from behind, I unconsciously grabbed that arm and kneeled them down.

“You sent almost ten local adventurers to the clinic, and you ask for verified party members? Is that even possible?”

“……I’m sorry.”

I had nothing to say and bowed my head.

…Looking back, I did cause quite a lot of trouble during my rookie days.

It was a stage when I would swing my sword at the slightest surprise.

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