In Arte, monsters roamed free.
Well, not inside the cities. Some stronger monsters lived outside the country's borders.
But there were a lot of hunting grounds near the cities.
Because if they cleaned up all the hunting grounds, people couldn't level up.
While playing the game, I learned that every existence had a level. Even a chicken or a pig.
In the physical world we were living in, existences leveled up until they ascended.
Ascended to where? I also didn't know that.
I was level 337, but I still didn't know anything about ascending.
Well, it didn't matter. I was not after ascending. I was back here for the ones I lost.
Anyway, the Adventurer's Guild was the governmental office administering these hunting grounds and the hunters.
Ah, the citizens of Arte, or Arteans in short, were called hunters if they chose to join the Adventurer's Guild, by the way.
If an Artean wanted to hunt, they needed a license.
Of course, like in every kind of game and fantasy world, there was a grading system for the hunters.
We were actually shocked when we learned the game was real.
It was similar to most of our fantasy elements.
Arte had different races, but most of them were known in Zerion, my old planet.
So, many wondered if these elements were introduced to our planet by someone before.
Still, I didn't belong to Zerion anymore. So it was their own problem.
If I achieved what I was trying to do, citizens of Zerion wouldn't come here anyway.
---
The Adventurer's Guild stood at the center of the city.
As one of the most important governmental buildings—and the one that brought in the most money—it was well maintained.
Colt had been here before with his party. Back then, they had only been a mediocre group in this world.
He took a deep breath and stepped inside.
It was crowded.
Just like I remembered, he thought.
Guilds were always crowded in Arte, since most Arteans made their living through hunting.
There were no restrictions on becoming a hunter. Anyone could level up, so everyone had a chance.
But it was dangerous. Even Colt didn't know the highest-level monster roaming this planet.
He scanned the room. There was a separate receptionist for new registrations.
Unlike the others, who were working their guts out, the man behind this desk was reading a newspaper, as if mocking the rest.
Well, the registration desk was mostly empty.
The only time it ever got crowded was when the academy told its students to register.
Since the academy term hadn't started yet, there was no such rush.
And Harton didn't have an academy anyway. So this man was one of the lucky few who got paid to do almost nothing.
As he walked toward the desk, Colt glanced at the quest board.
And he couldn't believe what he saw.
His first goal was there.
***
Request to Hunt!
Name: Kayden
Race: Unknown
Requirement: None
Reward: 1000 Gold
***
1000 gold was a high price.
First of all, Kayden wasn't a monster. He was an alien.
Well, everyone was technically an alien to Colt, since he was from a different planet.
Or it used to be so. Now, he was also an Artean.
But Kayden wasn't a native monster of Arte.
He was the final boss, someone who had come from another world.
There was a long, tragic villain story behind him—but Colt wasn't thinking about that now.
Why would he? He had already killed him once before returning to the past, and he would kill him again soon.
So, the quest was perfect.
Normally, a 1000 gold reward only came with A-grade quests.
But this one had no requirements.
He didn't know why.
But he did know that, in the future, Kayden wouldn't just be on some random pinboard.
His name would be known across the three great nations and every small one.
He was lucky to find it now, so he stepped toward the receptionist.
The man didn't even look at Colt, his mind buried in the newspaper.
Officials in Ostines—the country he was in—weren't usually this bad.
But that was probably due to the crowd that came with the players in the future.
With peace having lasted more than a hundred years, everyone had become more relaxed.
Colt coughed to get his attention, but the man still didn't look up.
He tried a stronger cough this time.
Still nothing.
Then a voice came from someone standing in line at the next receptionist.
"Old man! Raise your head and do your job!"
The one who shouted was a burly man.
If you saw him on the street, you'd probably think he was a thug.
He's probably a brawler, Colt thought.
For players, choosing a class was necessary. But Arteans weren't bound by that.
They could become whatever they wanted, as long as it was physically possible.
Brawler was a safe bet.
With enough training, a brawler could reach the point where they could take down mid-low-level monsters consistently and with ease.
But going further was difficult.
So, brawlers were usually chosen by those who wanted a steady income, nothing more.
Of course, there were exceptions.
Eventually, the man behind the desk raised his head to look at the brawler, then turned to Colt and sighed.
What is with this constant sighing?
"Do you want to register?"
Obviously!, Colt wanted to say—but he held back. "Yes, I'm here to register."
Then he turned to the brawler and said, "Thank you!"
The brawler nodded and looked forward again.
Colt wasn't someone who liked being in anyone's debt, so he checked the man with magic.
Seeing a few wounds that would take days to heal, he cast a healing spell.
He wasn't a healer, but at his level, healing minor injuries was nothing.
The brawler didn't even notice, so Colt turned back.
"Your ID," the man said.
"Here it is."
The receptionist didn't even look at the ID properly.
If he had, he'd have seen the issue date was today and would've checked Colt's background more carefully, making things harder.
He probably assumed Colt was just another low-level newbie. Of course, anyone below a certain level couldn't sense Colt's true strength.
So they'd naturally think he was nothing special.
That worked better for Colt, so he didn't mind.
After a moment, the receptionist handed him a form to fill out.
It only asked for the basics—just a glance showed it was requesting the same info already on his ID.
But Colt knew better. The paper was special. It absorbed the life force of whoever wrote on it.
That way, the guild could track hunters by their life force if something happened in an event zone.
It worked like a fingerprint.
It was easy to fake, but Colt didn't need to. He wasn't planning to leave any traces anyway.
So he filled it out and handed it back.
On the "Level" part, he entered 65. He didn't know the exact level he needed, so he guessed at random.
If his guess was too far, it would cause some issues with his plans soon.
The man also didn't check the paper, or he would have seen the level part and requested proof.
This was a serious issue. But, again, worked in his favour.
"Since you're a newcomer, I'll explain the rules," the man said, launching into a bored monotone.
"You'll start as an F-1 ranked hunter. As you complete quests, your rank will rise. After F-3, you'll become E-1..."
After five long minutes of rules and guidelines—more like reading them word for word from a manual—he finally neared the end.
"You can take your first quest from me. After that, you'll need to line up at the other desks. Just pick a quest now." He gestured toward the pinboard.
"I already have one," Colt answered, showing the quest for hunting Kayden.
The man behind the desk burst into laughter.