Erantel. The Potion city of the world. The wall alone was the size of my entire village.
The entry fee wasn't bad just a few silver, which I easily paid from the coins I looted from the bandits. I stepped inside expecting opportunity, freedom, and a dozen shops desperate to hire a strong, disciplined youth.
What I got was…
"No."
Over. And over. And over again.
The blacksmith looked me up and down when I offered to sweep ash and learn at the forge.
"No apprentices. I'm not training someone who'll be my rival in a year."
The alchemist was the same. A wide-eyed man with glasses who flinched at the idea of sharing technique.
"You want to help? Join the Alchemy Guild. Sign the oath. Three years minimum. No cross-hiring allowed."
Tailors. Carpenters. Even bakers gave me the same excuses.
"If I teach you my trade, I make a competitor, they always say."
It didn't matter how polite, humble, or strong I was. They only saw a young man with too much potential, and the city ran on guilds.
Blacksmiths, Alchemists, Merchants all tied up in legal contracts, entry fees, membership requirements, and years of commitment.
But I couldn't afford to tie myself to any one path.
"If I sign one guild contract, I'm locked out of every other job class for three years. That's not a grind… that's prison."
I walked the streets for two weeks, sleeping in the cheapest commonhouse, eating stale bread and onion stew, growing more bitter by the day.
Until i finally went there…
The building was big, bold, and loud. Adventurers swaggered in and out most with weapons, some in armor, some in rags. Most had the smell of dirt and drink, and not one of them looked like a scholar or nobleman.
But… they were busy. Always busy. And the sign outside read:
"RECRUITING: LABOR NEEDED ADVENTURERS. PAY BASED ON CONTRACT TYPE."
I walked inside. A woman at the desk glanced up.
"Looking to register?"
"Yes. What do I need?"
"One-time registration fee: 5 silver. Literacy test to ensure you can read contracts. Then you get a badge and you're on the rolls."
"That's it?"
"That's it."
I paid. I passed. And just like that I was a Copper Rank Adventurer. The lowest of the low. No monster hunting. No bandit raids. Not yet.
But labor contracts?
That was everything I ever wanted.
Carrying bundles, mixing mortar, clearing out rubble, plastering stone cracks, bracing support beams, smoothing bricks?
All of it fed into a new job class i called stone mason.
And best of all?
No guild contracts. No oaths. No exclusivity. Just work and MY levels.
For the first time since I'd left home, I smiled every time I saw my hands covered in dirt, ash, and dust.
I memorized root types, moss uses, shelf life, combinations. I made basic tinctures for wounds and insect bites. Some field medics even bought them from me on the side, as i gained 4 more level form herbalist.
This was the surprise.
Using hammers, chisels, and sheer muscle to reshape walls, build braces, and repair roads awakened something in me. I could feel the stone. Understand its weight. Predict how it would crack. Even older masons began asking me for help, mostly just assigning me grunt work, beacuse i don't got tired, and gained 5 level easily in stone mason.
I had resented the idea of being an adventurer. I thought it was for mad-men or someone with a death wish.
But now? I saw it clearly.
"They're not just warriors. They're generalists. Freelancers. Free agents."
As long as I stayed Copper, no one cared what I did. I could grind job classes at my own pace, keep my freedom, and build true versatility.
"This might be the best system for what I'm trying to do."
At night, in the tiny inn room I rented with labor coin, I lit a candle and blew it out.Tomorrow, I'd find new contracts.
And soon… new classes.
[REN INFO CARD]
vermin killer: 8/15
Farmer:4/15
Carpentry:1/15
Blacksmith:1/10
Cleaner:10/15
Cook:1/10
Herbalist:5/15
Hunter:2/10
Tailor:1/15
Gardener:1/10
Assassin:2/10
Stone mason:5/15
Total Level: 41