Chapter 9: Ch. 8

Sago sat in the middle of the room, surrounded on all sides by angry and disbelieving adults. He really felt they were overreacting. He’d already taken the consent of death that absolved the Union of responsibility over any potential fatalities, moreover, why even put such a poisonous herb in the test if they didn’t expect someone to munch on it.

Really, if anyone was to blame it was them.

“Do you understand what you did wrong?” Fi was tapping her foot furiously on the ground, glaring down at him.

“F—urk.” He coughed up another globule of blood, spitting it into the bucket beside him, before finishing seriously, “Failed the exam.”

“Wrong!” She grabbed his head, furiously ruffling his hair to vent her frustration after already being chewed out by Vera for giving him a whack once already. “You put your life in unnecessary danger by putting a plant you weren’t familiar with in your mouth and eating it you idiot!”

“My life wasn’t in danger.” Sago dodged away from her hands, feeling offended. His blood could liquify internal organs in seconds if ingested. A little bit of tissue stripping and internal bleeding was hardly comparable.

“The Union thanks you for your faith in our abilities, but that was still dangerous.” Vera drily commented, rubbing her glabella tiredly. Sago, seeking out a desire to appear more human, chose the road of compassion and declined to correct her misunderstanding. She continued, unaware; 

“The exam is designed to test your capabilities of working in the field: eliminating monsters without destroying materials, how you’d handle being outnumbered by a dangerous opponent, and accurately and safely identifying gathered ingredients. The problem here, Sago, is that you are, frankly, a dangerous combination of extraordinarily powerful and exceptionally incompetent to a lethal degree.”

“No, I’m definitely good at everything I do.” Sago argued, taken aback by her accusations.

“No! You failed two tests, one near-fatally!” Fi insisted.

A small cough interrupted the three of them. Turning to look, it was the second staff member. He gave a timorous smile once he had their attention.

“I think what Miss Vera is trying to allude to is that while we can’t allow you to become an adventurer, letting you go would itself be a liability. A child of your age, potential, and um, lack of common sense needs supervision.”

“Yes.” Vera exhaled. “Exactly, thank you. Which means we need to figure out what to do from here.”

Sago narrowed his eyes, raising his chin and drawing his lips back to bare his teeth. Was this a threat? Did they really think they could keep him here?

“I would like to suggest a compromise, if that’s fine ma’am?” The man stepped forward with a bundle of papers, diffusing the dangerous atmosphere, and gently adjusted his glasses before negotiating further. “We could offer a position within the Union. Starting income is—let’s see, you can already read and write quite well which will save on training, but given your age, let’s say four crowns a week? With room and board and one rest day per week.”

“A staff position, huh… that could work.”

“You want me to work for you? Not a chance!” Sago immediately shook his head. He wanted to join the Union in order to avoid responsibility and status.

“Actually… it’s a good offer, Sago.” Fi spoke up.

“Yes, take a moment to think it through please.” Vera did her best to persuade him, clasping her hands between her knees. “To be honest, the Union has a staff shortage due to the rigorous requirements we demand. We require staff that are literate, competent at administrative tasks, and capable learners, but also people who are adept at field work and have high combat abilities.”

“This will benefit you too.” The male staff member added. “You will have access to the entire library of Union resources and information for free, and the opportunity to handle a large amount of raw resources before and after processing, which will be critical to raising your general knowledge on how to effectively practise as an active adventurer. Once you’re old enough, if you still wish to register as an adventurer, you can be fast tracked to a higher rank immediately—the ranking system is about vetting potentials to ascertain their foundational knowledge and reliability, you see. Plus, staff members are not purely administrators. As Miss Vera stated, we also require people capable of operating autonomously in the field for different missions. 

“Adventurers seem free and easy-going, but only the higher ranked ones really get to enjoy that kind of freedom. The vast majority of adventurers barely earn enough to cover the cost of food and lodgings at inns, equipment maintenance, travelling supplies, and so forth. Many of them end up trapped in routines. In fact, our staff enjoy a much higher level of independence without sacrificing any of the comforts.”

Sago clenched his hands against his knees, gritting his teeth. He was angry that they had successfully persuaded him. There was no way the honey pot was as sweet as they were making it out to be, but he really had trouble saying “no” now.

He looked at Vera and the man, then down at himself, then finally pursed his lips, reluctantly spitting out, “Fine, but I’m warning you now I don’t look good in white.”

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“Good kid!” Fi grabbed his head with both hands, ruffling his hair excitedly. “This is a rare opportunity, y’know! Oh—will Old Goldy be all right with it, though?”

“An extra hand on staff is less burden of work for her. She’ll be over the moons.” Vera snorted. She flashed a kind smile at Sago, standing and giving a gesture to the male staff member. “Since you already had temporary lodgings here last night, you can just settle straight into that room to make things easier. Orion will give you the full tour of the Union Hall along the way.”

Sago leapt down from the settee, following on the heels of the male staff member—Orion—as he took him through the back offices of the hall building.

There were effectively two faces to the hall.

The front face was that which adventurers would interface with, operating much more like a hunting den than a business. It served food and alcohol—making a considerable income through earning back wages freshly paid into the pockets of adventurers not moments before—offered shelter from the hustle of work and living, plus a forum to exchange and compare information between members. Work was rarely assigned directly to adventurers outside of extenuating circumstances, but instead they had the leisure of browsing job offers and picking according to their preferences.

It was an indulgent and easygoing work environment which Sago had never known.

Then there was the back face of the Union, which was a tightly run ship of pure bureaucracy. Behind the pleasantly smiling faces and tidy uniforms of the staff members who sat behind the counters to process the work of adventurers, was a disciplined platoon of pen pushers.

When an adventurer wanted to take on a job, all they had to do was take the placard from the listings board and present it at the counter.

Leading up to and following that simple moment of exchange was a flurry of: liaising with clients, investigations, collation of information, grading, negotiations of reward funds and gathering them to hold in escrow, record of the task, record of the client, record of the adventurer undertaking it, contacting the client with proof of completion, as well as oftentimes labour of dismantling and negotiations with local businesses for selling off pertinent parts, with paperwork and necessary receipts for everything.

“You can read and write regular script, right?” Orion displayed the lengthy wall of polished wooden filing cabinets, brass handles and label slots shining under the lamplight. “Apprentice staff begin with transcription work. Information on slates, such as the one you wrote on when you applied for the special exam, are transcribed onto these papers and then filed away, then the slates are wiped clean and reused.”

“Why not just use paper in the first place?” Sago picked up one of the as-yet unfilled paper forms with a neat template arranged by a printing press machine, ready to be filled out.

“First and foremost: cost. Rather than wasting paper that ends up discarded after the job is done, being able to reuse the slates is more efficient. Second issue: there are generally two types of people who become adventurers,” Orion explained with a dry smile, “those without many other prospects, and those unwilling to assimilate into society. Many who walk through those doors, for one reason or another, never had access to a real education. Some can write, but not very well, and others can’t write at all.” He paused, then finally explained clearly, “We need our records to be tidy and legible.”

He took Sago through the back offices of the guild, where two other apprentice staff members were currently taking turns transcribing forms and cleaning slates. One was a boy who looked twelve, with a smattering of freckles and auburn hair. The other was a lanky girl in her mid-teens with strawberry blond curly hair in a ponytail.

“Douglas, Chay, this is the new apprentice: Sago.” Orion introduced crisply. The two apprentices glanced up from their work, nodding curtly, before returning back to their tasks with little further interest.

Orion crossed the room, pulling a thick reference tome from the shelf and setting it down on an empty table. The cover indicated it was a list of rules and ordinances for the Union staff.

“In comparison, since we’re in the capital city many of our clients are literate. Merchants and seasonal nobility, that sort. The truth is, this Union Hall is largely a centralised hub of record keeping and management, and we see little turnover of what most imagine as ‘adventuring’ work. Monster populations, banditry activity, wild resources and dungeon growth are low in the surrounding region. Most of the adventurers who operate out of this Hall are higher ranked or well-connected, earning most income through escort work.”

Sago lifted the gilded emerald-green cover of the book, staring distastefully at the tiny cramped text within. Clairvoyance was not a gift of his particular species of demonic heritage, but he suddenly had an ominous premonition of where his immediate future was headed.

“Given the status of our clientele, there are higher expectations for how staff conduct themselves.” Orion continued, confirming Sago’s worst fears. “Don’t look at me like that. Working in this Hall could be considered an easy ride: the Union Halls out in the rural areas are swamped with far more requests to process, plus the bulk of clients tend to be farmers and labourers with lower education levels meaning each request needs staff members to directly interview with clients to understand and record the scope of the request. Most requests you receive here will be formally submitted in writing already by a staff of a merchant or noble house, and there is rarely a burden of interfacing with clients directly.”

He paused, then stressed as carefully as possible, “But not non-zero. And while we’re considered an independent entity from local politics, as far as our operating income is concerned, we’re still at the whims of keeping the good humour of local lords. So please, for our sake, learn the rules.”

Sago was led to the room that had now been officially designated “his”, told his apprenticeship uniform would be prepared, and then was left to fully enjoy his alone time with the set of rules. Setting it down on the small desk, he cracked open the cover once more with a sense of deep and inevitable reluctance.

He realised living as a human wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought.