IGTL Chapter 20

Chapter 20 – Trouble at the Adventurers’ Guild (1)

I opened the menu in front of the Transfer Gate “Yggdrasil” and selected the dungeon I wanted.

After transferring from the Transfer Gate “Yggdrasil” to the royal capital, I headed straight for the Adventurers’ Guild.

It was ten at night. Late, sure, but the Guild never slept.

It stayed open twenty-four seven.

I pushed through the Guild doors to order Peroperosaurus TKG (egg over rice) at the tavern attached to the hall.

The instant I stepped inside, something felt off.

“Wait—is that… Kyle?”

A body like carved stone, skin as dark as if he lived in a tanning salon.

No mistake, that was Kyle.

Beside him stood one of the veteran players, “AAAA.”

Both of them were tied up with rope.

What on earth do you have to pull to end up like that?

Did they get drunk and go on a bender?

“Yeah, that’s possible…”

Even in the real world, some people drank and rampaged.

And with folks unable to return to reality here, it wouldn’t be strange for someone to drown themselves in booze and spiral.

But something didn’t add up.

They didn’t look drunk, and their clothes were in tatters.

Which left only one thing…

“…!”

…Got it. I knew it.

So Kyle, huh…

The hint was that the Guild had them trussed up at this hour.

I didn’t know about “AAAA,” but Kyle had a wife back in the real world.

He must have gone looking for a little comfort in the night district, done something, and… well, you can fill in the rest.

I’m not going to spell out what, exactly.

That would trample on Kyle’s privacy.

And frankly, I didn’t want to imagine, let alone learn, the kinks of a musclebound man.

Whatever. Even if they got tossed in jail, they’d be out soon enough.

More importantly, I owed the Elementals that TKG.

I hadn’t even promised them yet, but I could feel them fidgeting eagerly.

I moved to walk past Kyle and the others toward the tavern when a voice called out behind me.

“H-Hey! Kakeru! Help us!”

“Huh?”

I turned at the sound of my name.

Kyle stared at me, face drawn and desperate.

Kyle, don’t be ridiculous.

You’re being restrained by Guild staff, you know?

And I’m the one who needs help here.

Look—

Because you called out to me, the Guild worker next to you is staring at me like I’m an accomplice.

That face screams, “Is he with them?”

I didn’t know what they had done.

Didn’t want to know, either…

Do your time.

Don’t drag me into it. We can talk after.

I patted Kyle’s shoulder and started for the tavern, when a Guild employee grabbed mine and, in a pleading tone, spoke up.

“Sorry, could we ask you a few questions, please?”

“…”

That “please” meant this was voluntary, not mandatory, right?

In other words, I could refuse.

I faced the staffer and gave a single reply.

“What is it?”

I was the type to go along with the big stick.

Of course I’d cooperate.

So then, what did these idiots do to rope me into their mess?

“Could you show us your Adventurer’s Emblem?”

“Eh? My Adventurer’s Emblem?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

What is this guy’s problem?

Saying “Show us your Adventurer’s Emblem” out of nowhere, was he out of his mind?

An Adventurer’s Emblem shows a person’s status. Demanding to see someone’s status was bad manners.

It was like asking a woman you fancy, “Would you show me your health check results?”

The moment I showed it, I’d be stripped bare.

Even for the Guild, that wasn’t something you flashed lightly.

“…No. Even if you’re Guild staff, the Adventurer’s Emblem includes my status. I can’t just show you that.”

When this was just a game, I could hand it over to NPCs without a thought because they posed no harm to me.

But now that this world had become reality, I couldn’t show it carelessly. The rank tag hanging from my neck would have to do.

“If you want to see my Adventurer’s Emblem that badly, show me yours first. If you’re on Guild payroll, you should have one, right?”

“M-Mine…?”

“Right. Not exactly a big ask, is it? I’m only asking for the same thing you are.”

In real-world terms, this was simple.

A police officer stops you and asks for ID.

You ask them to prove they’re really an officer.

That’s all.

And the rules say when a Japanese officer is asked, they must present their badge.

If the Guild could demand it, then I could request verification as well.

The staffer grimaced.

He clearly hadn’t expected that.

You could see it on his face.

Whatever, just show the ID.

Or is it that you can’t?

If you won’t show yours, don’t insist on seeing mine.

“More to the point, why are these two tied up? Did they commit a crime? Don’t tell me this is a false accusation.”

There was nothing scarier than a wrongful charge.

Like being accused of groping because someone shouted, “He touched me!” and then pushing for a payout, or the reverse. Horrifying. (If someone actually was assaulted, that’s different.)

But the scene felt off.

At first I thought Kyle had messed with nightlife, but apparently not.

“O-Of course not! We only suspected they falsified their rank…”

“Hah? Falsified their rank?”

As if that were possible.

Until Odin appeared and declared this world real, this was a game.

How would you forge rank?

Guild rank was based on completed quests and contribution points and people didn’t evaluate it.

The game’s programming did.

“Y-Yes, well… There are many S-rankers registered with the Guild, it’s true. But looking at these two’s Adventurers’ Emblems, their strength is nowhere near S.”

“Ah…”

Right.

I could guess what happened.

He’d seen their reset status and level.

And so he tied up two S-rankers who didn’t “look” S-rank.

Forging rank was a serious offense.

When Odin showed up, our statuses got reset.

But our track records didn’t vanish.

In other words, the world suddenly had a lot of level-1, S-rank adventurers.

The Guild couldn’t just ignore “S-rank, level 1.”

There shouldn’t be a level-1 S-rank in the first place.

Reset status showing “S”, of course that looked suspicious.

I had no clue why these two blockheads showed their Adventurers’ Emblems, but, wow, what a shortsighted move.

I sighed and addressed the staffer.

“Look, I get why you’d suspect foul play if you see a level-1 S-rank. But these two really are S-rankers. More importantly, did you actually check? Their level may be one, but their achievements didn’t vanish, right?”

“Th-That’s…”

If you oversee ranks, you oversee their achievement records.

You’d think that would be obvious.

Did you even verify it?

Don’t tell me you restrained them without checking, or are you saying you doubt the records themselves?

If you doubt the records themselves, I can’t help you.

I stared him down. Sweat beaded on his brow.

“W-We’ll confirm immediately!”

“Please do.”

So they hadn’t.

I understood the impulse, seeing reset stats on two washed-up S-rankers.

But tying them up without checking their track record was just pitiful for the accused.

Honestly, that’s a wrongful charge.

The staffer worked a terminal, then froze with a look of shock.

He’d found the achievements that justified S-rank, no doubt.

“Level 1 with these achievements? What?” his eyes darted, completely lost.

I couldn’t blame him.

“M-My deepest apologies!”

They untied Kyle and “AAAA,” bowing again and again, faces still bewildered.

Impressive, really, how many people could keep bowing while wearing that look?

“What a pain!”

“Seriously!”

“Alright, that’s enough. Let it go.”

I was busy.

It was past ten, and my Elementals had Peroperosaurus TKG waiting.

I understood their anger at the false charge, but enough was enough.

At my words, “AAAA” and Kyle finally eased off.

“M-Mhm… If Kakeru says so, I suppose…”

“V-Very well. I could go on a tirade, but we’ll leave it at that. Be more careful next time.”

“Y-Yes! We’re terribly sorry!”

The staffer bowed so deep his forehead nearly hit the floor.

Good. That wrapped it up.

I turned toward the tavern, but an adventurer’s voice cut in.

“I heard everything. From that reaction, you’re another level-1 S-ranker like them, aren’t you?”

“…Huh?”

Who was this clown?

I looked back to find a man built much like Kyle standing there, looming.