The Fat Aristocrat Waltz in the Labyrinth - Chapter 109

Chapter 109: The fat aristocrat sleeps well

“Hey there, how are you?”

The man smiled friendly at Mitrof and Canule. His short red hair was neatly combed, and his beard was cleanly shaved. The uniform of the guild staff, and the leather shoes on his feet both had wrinkles that showed their years of use.

“You are Mitrof-san, right? And who is this?”

“I’m Canule—I’m working as a porter.”

“I see—a porter, huh.”

“And you? I haven’t heard your name yet.”

“Oh, excuse me. It’s been a while since an adventurer asked for my name. My name is Hashasume, and I work in the Special Problems Countermeasure Department. It’s basically where we handle all the issues with the labyrinth—think of us as jacks-of-all-trades.”

Hashasume laughed heartily and found a small chair leaning against the wall in the sickroom. He picked it up and placed it by the bed.

“Would you like to sit down, Canule-san? Oh, is that not necessary? Then please excuse me.”

Hashasume took a seat and leaned forward, taking out a notebook from his pocket. Flipping through the pages, he glanced at the contents before looking up.

“So, Mitrof-san encountered a ‘demon’ this time around. Well, first of all, congratulations on surviving. I understand that you must be physically and mentally exhausted, but there are some documents that need to be prepared—apparently, a new guardian called the ‘goblin soldier’ was summoned—it’s quite surprising that you were able to defeat two of them.”

“It was Blanc Manje who defeated the goblin soldier.”

“I see… Then let me write that down in the report.”

Hashasume took out a short pencil from his pocket and wrote it in the notebook.

“Is Blanc Manje alright?”

“Yes, she is—she suffered injuries and a depletion of magical power, but it is said that she will make a full recovery—she is a ‘sturdy’ one, after all.”

Remembering what he heard from Poisson, Mitrof is aware that under the guild contract, Blanc Manje is forced to fight against ‘demons.’

Although he wants to mention it, Mitrof knows that it’s not something he can improve by intervening.

Mitrof swallowed his words.

“…I’ll go visit her.”

“That would be wonderful—it will be for a while, as she needs treatment to recover her magical power. Oh yes, speaking of visits, we have a visit from the guild today.”

Mitrof narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“It’s a reward for the subjugation of the ‘demon’ that suddenly appeared on the fifth floor—the guild will cover all of Mitrof-san’s medical expenses—also, we will provide a certain amount of subjugation fee, a rank up of your guild card, and an official approval of the party name. If you have any other requests, we will answer them.”

“There is an official approval for a party name?”

“Well, it’s a kind of special treatment—normally, parties—the name is up to you, and if you pay the application fee, we’ll register it for you. However, for example, if a guild recognizes the potential or there has been a significant contribution, the guild will support that party…that’s how it works.”

“…I’d like to request details on papers—I’ll check it later.”

“Understood. Like that—Is there anything else you would like?”

At first, Mitrof was about to say no. ‘No, it would be a waste—this is an opportunity.’ But Hashasume is not just a messenger, he has been given discretion here. In other words, he is somewhat important. Demanding too much would be greedy. It’s all about finding the right balance.

“Can you make an adventurer card for Canule without an exam?”

There was a slight gasp from Canule.

“I see.”

Hashasume wrinkled his eyes at the corner—not a bad reaction, Mitrof thought.

“Then, it shall be so.”

Hashasume wrote something in his notebook, closed it, and stood up. As he pushed his chair back against the wall, he spoke as if making small talk.

“Mitrof-san, do you know what trait a great adventurer must possess?”

“That’s a sudden question… Is it because I’m not a quitter?”

“That’s one possibility, but the only essential trait is luck.”

Mitrof furrowed his brow, expressing his doubts.

“No matter how strong your body, no matter how resilient your spirit, you will still die when it is your time—that is the labyrinth—did the dead ones who were foolish and incompetent deserve to die? Were the survivors wise and excellent? No, they just had luck—and today, you are alive—that’s incredible luck.”

Hashasume held out his hand. He unclenched Mitrof’s fist and forcefully shook his hand.

“You have the luck to overcome demons—that’s enviable—and…”

His gaze fell upon the fresh scar of a lightning bolt etched into Mitrof’s neck and arm.

“You are blessed by the thunder—this is proof of good luck—and we also expect your contribution to the guild in the future.”

Hashasume smiled at Mitrof and quickly left the room.

Mitrof and Canule were left facing each other.

“… What was that about?”

“It was probably a warning from the guild—they reward us for being quiet or for not making a fuss about dealing with Blanc Manje or the ‘people of the labyrinth’… or maybe it’s just a notice that they have their eyes on us, but we gained something—that’s good enough for now.”

“Um, Mitrof-sama. Was it okay to make that wish? There were probably many other wishes you could have made.”

With a hesitant tone, Mitrof looked at her with a bewildered expression.

“It’s obvious it’s a good thing—I’ve been wanting to do something about it for a long time—you are not just a porter, but a valuable ally.”

“——Yes.”

Canule’s voice was choked as she nodded. The content of her emotions was unknown to Mitrof. But he had a feeling that his choice was not wrong.

Suddenly, a loud yawn escaped him.

“Excuse me—I’m so sleepy.”

Canule smiled and supported Mitrof’s shoulder, then gently laid him down and covered him with a blanket.

“It will take some time for the residual magic of the lightning to dissipate from your body—please rest well.”

“I’m fine, though.”

“If you insist on leaving the bed, I’ll have to rely on force.”

Mitrof chuckled at the clear threat.

“… By the way, how is Grace doing?”

On their way back from the labyrinth, Canule carried Mitrof on her back, and Grace carried Blanc Manje as they returned to the surface. By the time the treatment was finished, Grace had disappeared.

“When we received notice that there was no danger in Mitrof-sama’s life, the children came to call us—I couldn’t ask for more details, but something seemed to have happened at the institution—Grace-sama went back to deal with it.”

“I see… by the way, I asked Poisson to call you, but why was Grace there too?”

“Well…”

Canule hesitated slightly.

“Grace-sama was actually the one who came to ask—we happened to receive the message at the same time.”

“Thanks to that, our lives were saved—I must express my gratitude properly.”

“Let’s go tomorrow.”

Canule anticipated Mitrof’s thoughts and spoke, telling him to sleep quietly tonight.

Mitrof chuckled and replied that he understood.

“Let’s get some sleep—my body feels so heavy.”

“It’s because of the healing magic—you’ll be completely better when you wake up.”

As he closed his eyes, drowsiness enveloped Mitrof. Before sinking into the warm clouds, he felt a gentle sensation stroking his head. Suddenly, he remembered his mother’s touch.

Mitrof fell asleep in a nostalgic peace.