The morning sun painted the Adventurer's Guild in gold, which would have been calming if not for the sound of Rein trying to chew a form.
"Stop that!" Mira yanked the soggy parchment out of his mouth. "That's not food!"
"But it tastes like mana!" Rein protested, still chewing air. "Dry, stale mana, but edible!"
The receptionist, a spectacled woman with the expression of someone long past emotional investment, dipped her quill and sighed. "Name?"
"Rein," Mira answered quickly.
"Species?"
"…Complicated."
Rein waved cheerfully. "Ex-slime! Now human-shaped, approximately ninety percent sure of it!"
The receptionist blinked twice, wrote "Hazard: Digestive Magic User" beside his name, and moved on. "Occupation?"
"Adventurer! Also professional soup enthusiast!"
The quill hovered. "…Understood." She stamped the form hard enough to dent the wood, the echo of the stamp bouncing across the hall like a warning.
Rein clapped excitedly. "I'm officially dangerous!"
Mira groaned. "You're officially terrifying."
Mira guided Rein to a training counter, where demonstration cards lay neatly arranged. "These are Cards, Rein. Magical constructs storing pre-coded spells. Each has a type, function, and rank."
She picked up a red-edged one. "Fireball: Active type. Triggers an effect immediately when properly activated."
Rein's eyes sparkled. "Like spicy candy!"
Then a silver one. "Heal: Skill type. Requires channeling through your core and focus on the target."
"Core? You mean my belly core?" he asked, poking at his stomach.
"No, not your belly! The magical core inside you. Humans have one; slimes had a whole… uh, blob system." Mira rubbed her temples.
Finally, a pale-blue one with sparkles. "Clean Room: Utility type. Used for maintenance—wait, Rein, don't—"
He bit it.
The card dissolved like sugar. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then the floor, walls, ceiling, and even the guild's notice boards gleamed spotless. Dust, grime, and years of stains vanished in a shimmer of light.
Every guild member froze. Someone clapped slowly. "Well. At least the windows are clean."
Mira groaned. "You ate a housekeeping spell!"
Rein wiped his mouth. "I cleaned responsibly! My digestion is civic duty!"
Whispers spread. "S-tier janitor?""No, definitely a walking crime.""He might digest the treasury next."
One trainee cautiously poked a practice sword into Rein's direction. "Does he attack with meals?"
Rein looked proud. "Only when garnished."
Mira rubbed her temples. "We just need to get through one normal task. Something harmless. Like herb collection."
The receptionist flipped through a quest board. "Here. Stone-rank. Retrieve five moonleaf herbs from the southern grove. Standard pay, very little danger."
Rein puffed out his chest. "As local expert in being biologically questionable, I lead!"
"That's… not a qualification."
He already had the quest card in his mouth. Mira yanked it back. "Stop eating official paperwork! You only activate quest cards by channeling mana into them, not saliva!"
Rein looked thoughtful. "But saliva is liquid mana, right?"
"No! Absolutely not! Don't you dare test that theory!"
"I call it research," Rein said, grinning and drooling on the paper.
Mira muttered under her breath, "I should have been a hermit instead of a guild tutor."
They set off toward the grove, Rein skipping ahead and poking every tree and shrub, occasionally sniffing a leaf. "This one smells like adventure… and maybe mint mana."
"Do not eat the trees," Mira warned. "There is no digestible mana in them!"
"Then they're boring. I prefer cards and glowing things!"
On the walk toward the grove, Mira tried to restore dignity to the art of explanation. "Listen carefully, Rein. Card Mana is an artificial flow. Humans learned to trap spells into cards by stabilizing their essence. That essence needs Locked Mana, the kind you can only produce with a core compatible to the World Tree's resonance."
Rein nodded sagely. "So the world runs on snack energy."
"No. It's structured mana," Mira said, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"But structure is just flavor with rules," he replied, poking at a nearby stone.
"Rein, please stop redefining theology," Mira groaned.
He pointed to a nearby tree. "That one looks full of snack mana."
Mira dragged a hand down her face. "If you eat that, I am reporting you to the Church myself."
Rein patted her shoulder kindly. "Don't worry. I only eat processed mana now. I'm civilized. Mostly."
They passed a squirrel, and Rein waved enthusiastically. "Do they have cards in their tails?"
"No! Do not eat the squirrel!" Mira snapped.
Rein tilted his head. "Hmm… would a squirrel become a quest reward if digested properly?"
Mira groaned louder than before.
At the grove's entrance, Rein held up the quest card. "So I channel mana into it, yes?"
"Yes," Mira said slowly. "Not saliva."
He licked it anyway. The card shimmered, glowing faint gold. A magic circle spun beneath their feet, projecting a map of the forest and highlighting herb locations.
Rein grinned proudly. "See? My taste buds are efficient conductors of mana!"
Mira just stared. "I refuse to believe this is how magic works."
A faint, residual glow spread back toward the guild hall, streaking the pipes and chandeliers in a soft golden light. The receptionist peeked from a window, squinting. "Why is the guild sparkling again?"
Rein waved enthusiastically. "Don't worry! I'll only eat authorized magic from now on!"
The receptionist called out. "Define authorized!"
"Anything that doesn't scream first!" Rein replied cheerfully.
Mira groaned, watching her normally orderly guild bubble with rogue light, dust motes dancing in the sun. The sun hadn't even reached noon, and she already regretted registering him as human.
Rein twirled in place. "Look! I'm a shining hero! Also a walking vacuum and janitor!"
Mira facepalmed so hard she could feel it in her soul. "This is going to be the longest day of my life… and probably the next hundred after that."