Chapter 24 — “Test Subject, Part 2”

Chapter 24 — “Test Subject, Part 2”

“Hey, stop saying weird things like that, or people will get the wrong idea,” the girl behind me snapped.

“I’m not saying anything weird,” the guy in the bloody white coat replied calmly. “I’m just stating what’s happening and what we’re about to do.”

…Did I misunderstand something?

No. I’m pretty sure I understood everything exactly the way he said it.

And the way he answered did not make me feel any better.

I carefully glanced back—my sword was still pointed at the man in the stained coat.

The girl by the door was smiling sweetly, as if nothing unusual was going on. But that sound I’d heard earlier… now I realized it hadn’t just been a click.

She had locked the door.

In other words, so no one would accidentally walk in.

…Or maybe so I wouldn’t be able to walk out?

She clearly noticed where I was looking. Still smiling, she said in a calm voice:

“That’s just so no one accidentally comes in and sees something they aren’t supposed to.”

She said it so lightly, so sweetly, that another chill ran down my spine.

What should I do? Force the door and try to get out? Attack them first?

No—that’s not an option. I’m not going to kill people just because I panicked. If they attack, I’ll defend myself, but I’m not going to be the one to start this. I have no desire to become anyone’s experimental lab rat.

I don’t know how strong they are, but I definitely won’t go down without a fight.

“Relax, relax. It seems you misunderstood us,” the girl said. “We’re just going to check your level here to see if you qualify for a promotion to E-rank. Nothing strange or dangerous like what you’re imagining.”

Her words calmed me down a little… but not completely.

I slid my sword back into its sheath—but I stayed ready to draw it again at any moment.

--

A bit of time passed.

As it turned out, the guy in the “bloody” coat was named Jerron.

He was, apparently, some kind of magic technician. And those marks I’d thought were blood? They weren’t blood at all—they were some kind of dark red, almost black dye or ink. In this dim room, it really did look like dried blood. No wonder I freaked out.

And what he said about me being their “test subject”… Well, he was telling the truth—just not in the way I’d imagined.

He’d been repairing some magical device, something like a machine for creating adventurer badges. Now it was time to test it, and they needed someone to run it on.

That “someone” just happened to be me.

So yes, I really was a test subject… just not in the “strapped to a table and dissected” sense.

After they explained, I calmed down a little more.

Jerron even told me why the lighting in here was so bad.

Apparently, if the room was too bright, it would mess with the quality of the badges being created. He went on and on with some complicated mix of technical and magical reasoning—something about mana flow, metal structure, light interference…

Honestly, I didn’t understand a thing.

Science has never been my strong point.

The only thing I really took away from it was: if the room is too bright, the quality of the adventurer badges goes down.

That’s it. That’s all I got out of his long explanation.

“All right, that’s enough, Jerron. He’s clearly not interested in what you’re saying. We’ve already wasted too much time. We just need to check him—confirm his level, and that’s it. Don’t hog his time,” the girl said.

“Fine, fine,” Jerron sighed. “You people just don’t appreciate how fascinating these magical instruments are. That’s why you’re not interested!”

“Okay, Alisar, just stand right here,” Jerron said, pointing to a small platform in the middle of the room.

I hadn’t even noticed it before—it only stuck up a couple of centimeters from the floor, and in this dim light it was easy to mistake for just another patch of stone.

I stepped onto the platform.

Jerron walked over to the wall and pressed something—looked like some kind of magical switch.

Instantly, I felt a wave move through my body—like a thin spark starting at my feet and running all the way to the top of my head. It was quick, but definitely noticeable.

On the wall, glowing text appeared:

> Rank: 3
Level: 60
HP: 15,950
MP: 17,240
Strength: 421
Defense: 497
Speed: 677
Intelligence: 310
Magic Power: 305
Magic Defense: 749

My stats were displayed right there on the wall—HP, MP, all my attributes, perfectly accurate.

…And then a worrying thought suddenly hit me: what if it displayed my skills too?

Rem had warned me very clearly—I must never show anyone my Alchemy skill.

I held my breath without even realizing it…

But nothing else appeared. No skills, no special abilities. Just raw stats.

I let out the breath slowly.

Good. That was close.

The girl must have noticed I’d tensed up a little.

“Don’t worry,” she said with a gentle smile. “All the information we’ve just seen will remain confidential. It won’t be shown to anyone else. This was just a standard check, to confirm whether you qualify for promotion to E-rank.”

“Well then, it looks like you fully meet the requirements to advance to E-rank,” she added. “We’ll have a new badge made for you now. It’ll be a higher-grade version—made from more durable metal and with a small magical function. You could say it’s not just a piece of metal anymore, but a minor magic tool.”

“Will it be different from the one I got in the village?” I asked.

“Barely,” she replied. “On the surface, it’ll look almost the same, but inside it’ll store a lot more information. The badge you received in the village was just a simple metal token with no embedded enchantments. This new one is made from a rare and expensive material. We only use it for adventurers who’ve reached E-rank, because most new adventurers quit within a year. We can’t afford to spend rare materials on people who are likely to leave the Guild so quickly,” she explained.

I nodded. Yeah, that did make sense.

If they gave every newbie who just wanted to “try out adventuring” a badge made of some rare material, it really would be a waste.

“All done,” Jerron said, drawing something out of the magical device in the corner.

He came over and handed me a new adventurer badge.

It was slightly bigger than my previous one.

On the front side, the engraving read:

Name — Alisar
Rank — E

And on the back…

I blinked in surprise. There was no Guild crest. Instead, all of my stats were engraved there—level, rank, attributes—exactly the same numbers I’d seen on the wall.

“Don’t worry,” Jerron said. “That’ll disappear in a moment.”

Sure enough, after a few seconds the information on the back faded, and the Guild emblem appeared in its place.

Now the badge looked just like my old one, only a bit larger and with “Rank E” instead of “Rank F”.

--

When we left the room, curiosity finally got the better of me.

Even though it felt a little awkward, I decided to ask:

“Excuse me… but why go through such a complicated magical process to check me? Wouldn’t it be easier to just use the skill Appraisal?”

I genuinely wanted to know.

I knew that skill existed—Rem had it.

Maybe it was so rare that even the Guild had to rely on devices like this instead?

“Well, you’re not wrong,” the girl said with a small smile. “Of course, relying on Appraisal would be easier. But Guild rules don’t allow it.”

“There are several reasons.”

“First, yes, the skill really is rare. But even in this Guild, there are a few people who possess it.”

She paused for a moment, then continued:

“But the second reason is the main one. Appraisal, while very useful, is not perfect. There are artifacts and even special skills that can fool it.”

“That’s why the Guild forbids using Appraisal to confirm adventurer ranks. Imagine if someone could artificially inflate their stats and climb the ranks too quickly—and then turn out to be weak in reality… It would seriously damage the Guild’s reputation.”

“That’s why we use this magical device instead. And by the way, the artifact you were just tested with is over a thousand years old. It can’t be fooled—no item or skill can falsify its readings.”

She leaned slightly closer and added, still smiling lightly:

“In theory, the only one who could trick it would be someone around eighth-rank level or higher. But if someone is that strong, they don’t need to cheat—they already deserve a promotion anyway.”

She had a point.

If you can’t rely on Appraisal one hundred percent, then using this artifact really is the safest choice.

--

By the time I left the Adventurer’s Guild, night had already fallen.

Street lamps—or rather, magical light fixtures—cast a soft glow over the streets.

There were still plenty of people around.

Walking a bit further, I quickly realized the area was full of taverns—loud voices spilled out from open doors, laughter, shouting, and from some of them faint music drifted out over the noise.

So yeah, definitely taverns.

“Better stay away from those,” I muttered. “I don’t want any trouble.”

I walked on for a while, but I still couldn’t find an inn.

I’d thought I’d recognize it from some obvious sign on the street, but nothing looked like a normal standalone “inn”.

So I decided to ask someone.

Unfortunately, the person I stopped was very clearly drunk.

“Hey… whaddya want?” he slurred, swaying on his feet.

“Could you tell me where I can find an inn? I’m not from here; I just arrived in the city today,” I said.

“Ahh, an inn, huh?” he said, wobbling. “Right over there, see? They’ve got rooms, and the booze there’s great too. Good place. You won’t regret it.”

He jabbed a finger toward a tavern a bit further down the road.

Looked like inns here were combined with taverns—the first floor for drinking, the upper floors for rooms.

“Thank you,” I said, heading in the direction he’d pointed.

Honestly, though, I didn’t really feel like going into a tavern.

Anywhere with that many drunk people tends to attract trouble.

But it should be fine.

I’ll just walk in, rent a room, and go straight upstairs.

No reason anything should happen.

As soon as I stepped inside, the noise hit me like a wave.

People were talking loudly, laughing, shouting.

Somewhere, music was playing—it sounded like instruments, but it was almost drowned out by the general roar.

Why is everyone talking so loudly? I wondered.

Then again, considering how much they were drinking, it wasn’t exactly surprising.

Almost everyone was holding a huge mug of something frothy—probably beer.

I decided not to waste time and headed straight for the counter.

I didn’t know what they called the man behind the bar here—bartender? innkeeper?—but he was clearly the one in charge.

“Excuse me,” I said, stepping closer.

“Yeah? What can I do for you?” the man behind the counter replied.

“I’d like a room for the night.”

“I see. For how long?”

“What?” I blinked.

“I mean, are you renting it for an hour, two hours, or for the whole night?”

I froze for a second.

Why would anyone rent a room for just an hour or two?

“…For the whole night,” I said.

“All night will be two silver coins,” he said.

Isn’t that… kind of expensive? I thought.

Although, when I thought about it more carefully, it did make sense.

The room I’d rented back in the village had been tiny, and here it would probably be bigger and more comfortable.

And this is a city, so of course the prices would be higher.

Fair enough.

I took out two silver coins and handed them over.

“Second floor, last room on the left,” he said, passing me a key.

“Thank you,” I said, taking it.

I decided to head upstairs immediately.

Though, thinking about it, I was hungry…

No, it’s fine. I’ll endure until tomorrow. I can buy something in the morning.

Tonight I’ll just eat from my own travel rations.

I started walking toward the stairs to the second floor.

As I passed between tables, I tried to keep as much distance from people as possible, careful not to bump into anyone.

And yet, someone still rammed right into me and spilled his beer all over me.

What the hell?

I’d been so careful!

It was like this guy ran into me on purpose.

Ugh…

My clothes were soaked, and now I reeked of that disgusting beer smell.

“Hey! What the hell?! Why did you spill my beer?!” the man yelled, staggering.

He looked about thirty-five, maybe forty. Stubble on his face, short hair, and a body that—honestly—was at least twice as muscular as mine.

He could barely stand straight, but he still loomed in front of me, glaring.

Why is he blaming me?

He’s the one who crashed into me and spilled everything!

Although… arguing with a drunk is always a bad idea.

“I’m sorry. I’ll buy you a new drink,” I said, trying to sound calm even though I was already getting nervous inside.

“Buy me a drink?” he sneered. “What do I need that for? You ruined my mood. You’ve gotta compensate for that.”

Yeah. Scam artist. No doubt.

All right… If I can settle this with money and walk away, that’s still better than a fight.

“How much do you want?” I asked.

“You can just hand over your coin pouch. I’ll take what I think is fair compensation,” he said, grinning.

Yep. Total scammer.

If I give him my pouch, he’ll just take everything. No way.

“I can’t give you my pouch,” I said.

I pulled out a couple dozen silver coins and two gold coins.

Honestly, that was probably way too much, but I really didn’t want any trouble.

“Here. This should be enough,” I said.

He looked at the money in my hand—but didn’t reach for it.

“You think I’m some kind of beggar?” he growled. His voice had turned rougher. “That’s it, kid. You’re dead. Let’s take this outside. I don’t want to stain the floor of my favorite tavern with your filthy blood.”

Great. That wasn’t going to end peacefully.

I glanced around, hoping someone might intervene, but no one even looked in our direction.

All right.

I can handle this guy. He can barely stand.

I really didn’t want to get into a fight, but it didn’t look like he intended to let me go.

“…Fine,” I said.

We stepped outside, into a narrow, dark alley beside the tavern.

As soon as we turned into the alley, the man suddenly stopped swaying. His back straightened, his movements became steady, and he turned toward me with a cold, predatory grin.

“Now I’ll teach you a lesson,” he said. “We’ll see what happens to anyone who dares ‘offend’ me.”

I almost smirked back.

He was the one shaking me down, and somehow I was the one who “offended” him?

Fine. If he wants a fight, I don’t mind. If he ends up with broken bones, that’s on him.

I clenched my fists, ready.

But instead of rushing me, he just chuckled, took a step back—and suddenly drew a sword.

Cold steel flashed in the light of the street lamp.

…What?

A chill ran down my spine.

“You want to fight with your bare hands?” he asked with a smirk. “Hah. You’re pretty confident, kid.”

I took a deep breath and tried to keep my face neutral.

If we fought with swords, one of us might die.

No matter how it ended, that would be bad for me.
If I accidentally killed him, I’d probably end up in prison. I had no connections here, no lawyers, no one to defend me. Execution wouldn’t be an unrealistic outcome in a world where justice can be brutal.

And if he killed me… well, that would be the end, too.

I needed a third option.

If I gave him all my money, that was still better than a sword fight.

Money I could always earn again. I could just create more health potions tomorrow and sell them at the Adventurer’s Guild.

I stood facing him, trying to stay calm.

If I just handed over my coin pouch, this would probably end without bloodshed.

“All right. You can take my money,” I said, untying the pouch from my belt to hand it over.

He grinned wider.

“Oh no, no, no… Now that’s not enough,” he said. “If you’d given me the pouch back in the tavern, that would’ve been fine. But now? That’s not gonna cut it.”

“What else do you want?” I asked.

“Your sword,” he said, his gaze sliding along the blade. “It looks like a pretty good one. Nice and fancy. I like it. Hand it over.”

My sword? He wants my sword?

No. I can’t give him that.

Money, sure, whatever. But this sword…

I’d gotten it when I defeated the dungeon boss for the very first time. It meant a lot to me now.

I couldn’t just hand it over to this guy.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give you the sword,” I said. “Just take the money. I really don’t want any trouble.”

“Well, if you don’t want to hand it over, that’s fine too,” he smirked. “I’ll take it from your cold dead hands instead.”

Without another word, he lunged forward, sword aimed to kill.

I reacted on instinct.

I drew my sword and met his strike.
The blades clashed with a shriek of metal—and in the same instant, my sword slid past his, sliced straight through it, and then cut across his chest.

He froze.

His eyes went wide with disbelief. I saw the same shock in them that I felt.

His broken sword dropped from his hand and hit the cobblestones with a harsh metallic clang.

He slowly collapsed—first to his knees, then face-first to the ground.

A dark pool of blood began rapidly spreading beneath him.

…No.

I had just killed a man.