'This can't bem happening!' An old man was thinking seeing the informations on the papers of his table.
It was supose to be simples, just catch the fucking daughther of the fucking youngster who was giving him and some others merchants a hard time.
'But these incompetent morons!!!!'
Not only had they failed to capture the girl, but they'd also left clues for the "irritating youngster" to get to the bottom of some of those responsible. It wouldn't be long before he got to his own.
'So the best course of action now would be…'
Normally, it would be either to hide and wait for the worst to pass and return more subdued, which would result in a drastic reduction in his earnings and influence. An option the old man would never accept. Or…
'Prepare for a direct conflict. In that case, it would be better to get more guards. But not the same kind of weaklings as last time.'
It's worth remembering that the weaklings he referred to were a group of trained assassins; they might not be high-ranking in his organization, but they were definitely not weak. The old man's inability to understand this already showed how inept he was at understanding the capabilities of others, a factor that contributed to his decline.
"Murcy!!!, come here now!"
Shortly after the old man's shout, a middle-aged man entering old age walked through the door.
"As Master Davos commands."
The butler said with a slight measure.
"Place a request with the Adventurers' Guild for assistance gathering essential materials for our chamber of commerce, as well as assistance with the transportation and security of important personnel for the next few days, but don't specify an ending date."
The old man said with disgust evident in his voice and face; he detested so-called adventurers. To him, "adventurers," or pathfinders, or whatever name they liked to be called, were nothing more than a bunch of vagrants who waited for something to happen and tried their best to make the most money with minimal effort.
Once again, his inability to see that he himself was doing the same, even worse, further demonstrated that his decline was inevitable. With or without outside influence, the old man was incompetent to recognize even that.
"Understood, sir, what would be the baseline for those willing to accept the commission, and how much would the payment be?"
The butler had served this gentleman for a long time, so he knew that trying to argue anything would be a futile effort.
"Hmph, of course there's that detail. We wouldn't ideally accept anyone below B rank, but as things stand now, you can leave a minimum for D+ rank. As for the payment, you can decide; something eye-catching, and it doesn't necessarily have to be cash. There's a right to spoils in case of 'confrontations', which is also acceptable."
The old man said grudgingly, the desire to maximize his earnings with minimal effort resurfacing.
"Just make sure they're competent, but don't exaggerate the base pay. Nothing above 10 silver coins."
"Understood, sir. We'll certainly get an overwhelming number of applicants with these terms."
"Hmph, of course we will. Now go, I still have to decide which items we should prioritize so as not to draw attention."
"Understood, sir,"
The butler said, leaving silently and precisely. Once out of his master's sight, the butler allowed himself to sigh and shake his head.
'As if those terms would ever catch the eye of someone who was actually worth it.'
The conditions were reasonable, and the selection wasn't bad either. But paying only 10 silver coins and hoping that someone above C-rank would accept the job was a pipe dream. Not, It was just another one of his master's delusions.
Adventurers of B-rank and above don't accept any job that pays less than 5 gold coins. A good B-rank would have to be paid personally with 15 gold coins.
'With things like this, it shouldn't take much longer.'
The butler thought gloomily, but with a strange hint of hope that things would soon be over. And that at the very least, he could take as little damage as possible.