Adventurer of Many Professions

Red Rose Street, House No. 25.

At the cozy guest table, a red-haired girl sat leaning forward, her chin propped on her hands, her sparkling eyes fixed on the boy sitting beside her. She hung on his every word as he recounted his latest adventure.

"…And then the queen bee snatched my sword and flung it far into the forest! But guess what? I'm a fighter, not a swordsman, so it didn't matter!" Raymond said with a grin, leaning back casually. "When it came at me, snapping its giant black mandibles, I dodged and punched it so hard, I knocked its head clean off!"

The girl burst out laughing, her voice bright and carefree. "Hahaha! That poor queen bee! I bet she didn't see that coming; trying to take on a fighter like you!"

Raymond couldn't help but smile as he watched her laugh, her joy contagious.

When Arya realized he was staring at her, her cheeks, already flushed from her red hair and pale complexion, turned an even deeper shade of crimson. Flustered, she quickly tried to recover, pretending to be calm as she crossed her arms and urged, "Hey! Don't just sit there smiling. Hurry up and tell me what happened next!"

Raymond chuckled and continued his story, recounting the events of the mission in vivid detail, right up to the moment they completed their promotion.

When he finished, Arya stood up from her seat, walked behind him, and, to his surprise, wrapped her arms gently around him. Her voice softened, and she whispered, "You're such a silly boy. Do you think I don't know? You're trying to make everything sound so easy, so I won't worry."

Raymond froze for a moment, embarrassed that she'd seen right through him. "Uh…" He scratched the back of his head, searching for words. She was right, of course. If things had gone wrong; if he'd been surrounded by the queen bee and the swarm, it could've been disastrous for all of them.

Arya pulled back slightly, her voice warm but firm. "Alright, you've told me everything. You must be exhausted after all that. Let me make lunch for you!"

With that, she released him and practically bounced toward the kitchen, her red hair swaying like a flame. She tied on an apron and began gathering ingredients, humming softly to herself.

Halfway through, she suddenly stopped, a thought crossing her mind. Her face flushed again as she turned to Raymond, her voice uncharacteristically shy. "Uh… Raymond? You're, um… you're kind of filthy. Maybe you should shower before you rest?"

Raymond glanced down at himself. His protective gear and clothes were stained with dirt, juice from the bushes, and remnants of the mission. It wasn't a great look. "You're right," he admitted with a small laugh. "I'll clean up first."

As he stood and headed toward the stairs, Arya called after him, "Oh! Don't forget to wash your armor and clothes! Don't leave them lying around in your room!"

"Got it!" Raymond replied, waving her off as he disappeared upstairs.

When Arya saw him vanish, she felt her heartbeat quicken. Her cheeks grew hotter, and she instinctively brought her hands to her face. 'Why am I so flustered?' she thought. She rushed to the sink and splashed cold water on her face, trying to calm herself. "It's okay, Arya," she whispered to herself. "This is just for his own good. You're not… thinking anything weird."

---

Upstairs, Raymond returned to his room, grabbed a fresh set of clothes, and stepped into the bathroom. He turned on the cold water, letting it rinse away the grime of the mission.

After his shower, he grabbed a bottle of detergent and got to work scrubbing the sticky, stained protective gear and his dirty clothes. It only took a few minutes before they were clean enough to hang out to dry.

He carried them to the balcony, ready to string them up; but as soon as he stepped outside, he froze.

His hands went slack, and the protective gear and clothes tumbled to the ground.

Hanging on the balcony, fluttering gently in the breeze, was an array of brightly colored, delicate undergarments. Lacy, frilly, and undeniably 'new'.

Raymond stared, wide-eyed. His mind raced as Arya's voice echoed from a few nights ago: '"Don't worry about it! I'll take care of getting some new things!"'

'Oh no.'

The memory hit him like a lightning bolt. That night 'that night'! He thought they'd both forgotten the incident, that they'd moved on without another word. But now, it was painfully clear. She hadn't forgotten.

"My reputation… it's ruined!" Raymond groaned, clutching his head. He felt as though the universe itself had conspired against him.

It had all started with a misunderstanding. He wasn't a pervert; he'd just been trying to unlock the 'thief' profession! But instead of becoming a thief, he'd gained an entirely different reputation… one he desperately wanted to escape.

Panic set in. He couldn't stay up here. If Arya came up and found him standing next to her newly bought… belongings, there'd be no way to explain himself.

"Forget the gear, forget the clothes!" Raymond muttered, abandoning them on the floor. He spun on his heel and bolted downstairs, his only thought being to clear the air with Arya 'immediately'.

---

Meanwhile, Arya was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables with a smile on her face. She had no idea what was happening upstairs or that Raymond was about to barrel down, ready to explain himself in the most awkward way possible.

When Arya saw Raymond descending the stairs, she quickly turned her attention back to the kitchen, pretending to be completely engrossed in preparing lunch. Her hands moved methodically as she worked, though her flushed cheeks betrayed her otherwise calm demeanor.

Raymond, on the other hand, made his way to the living room and sat rigidly on the sofa, his posture unusually upright. He stared at the floor for a moment, rehearsing what he wanted to say, but couldn't muster the courage to break the silence.

It wasn't until lunch was ready and they sat together at the dining table that Raymond finally gathered his nerve. He glanced at Arya, who was now quietly serving the meal, her eyes studiously avoiding his. She was doing a poor job pretending that nothing had happened.

Taking a deep breath, Raymond said, "Uh… Arya, there's something I need to talk to you about."

Arya froze for a moment but quickly composed herself. She looked at him with forced nonchalance. "Oh? What is it?" she said, her voice deliberately casual.

Raymond hesitated, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "It's about, um… last time."

Arya's eyes flicked toward him, and her composure faltered for just a second before she went back to pretending she didn't care.

"Look," Raymond continued, his words rushing out, "I know I've become an adventurer, and yeah, it's a stressful job, but I don't, uh, need any… extra outlets for that stress. What I mean is… that thing with the balcony… it was just an accident. There was a butterfly that flew in, and—"

"...A butterfly?" Arya raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Yes! A butterfly!" Raymond said, doubling down, even though he knew how ridiculous it sounded. "It distracted me! That's all it was! So, really, there's no need for you to think… you know… that 'I'm' that kind of person."

He trailed off, looking at Arya with a mixture of hope and nervousness.

Arya remained silent for a moment, her expression hard to read. Then, after what felt like an eternity to Raymond, she sighed and looked away. "What are you even talking about?" she said, her tone a little defensive. "I just didn't expect you to come back today, so I forgot to take some things off the balcony. That's all. From now on, I'll make sure to dry things inside. Happy?"

Raymond blinked, relief washing over him. "Oh… yeah. That's good. Thanks," he said awkwardly.

Arya nodded firmly, then returned her focus to her plate, though her ears were still burning red. Raymond, for his part, felt like a massive weight had been lifted off his chest. At least he wouldn't be labeled a pervert anymore; at least, not today.

---

Later that night, around 8 PM

The Adventurer's Guild doors closed with a heavy clang, marking the end of the day's operations. Adventurers who hadn't yet submitted their completed commissions would have to wait until the next day.

But just because the guild was closed didn't mean the adventurers were done for the day. For many, the night was a time to unwind, to shake off the tension of battle and the weight of danger.

Some adventurers wandered to 'Love Street', seeking "companionship" with alien girls. Others flooded the nearby taverns, where tables were soon piled with food and drink. The taverns buzzed with the sound of adventurers bragging about their kills, recounting their escapades, or debating the day's gossip.

Even the guild staff, after clocking out, occasionally joined in the revelry, grabbing a meal and a drink while listening to the adventurers' exaggerated tales.
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Bernard, the auditor who had earlier signed off on Raymond's promotion commission, was among tonight's crowd. He sat at the bar, nursing his second glass of white wine. The alcohol had dulled the edge of his nerves, and he found himself murmuring to no one in particular, "Dual-professionals… I never thought I'd see one in my lifetime…"

His voice was drowned out by the din of the tavern, particularly by the loud conversation at a nearby table.

Behind him, a group of four adventurers were laughing and talking loudly, their voices carrying over the rest of the chatter.

"I just don't get it," one of them said, slamming his mug on the table. "That Explosion Magician and the priest? Why would they team up with some fighter carrying a 'long heavy sword'? Is the guy insane? What, does he think he's a warrior just because he strapped a big sword to his back?"

His companion laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, it's ridiculous. And what about those two? Are they out of their minds? Teaming up with someone like 'that'? I mean, come on. It's like they're asking to fail."

"Exactly!" another chimed in. "If we'd had a priest or an Explosion Magician on our team, we would've completed that Black Iron promotion commission two days ago. But no, we're stuck struggling because those two picked 'him'."

Bernard's jaw tightened as he listened to the conversation. He recognized the voices. These four had come through his office recently; another group that had failed their promotion to Black Iron level.

'Adventurers,' Bernard thought with a sneer. 'All bark, no bite. Always so full of themselves, yet completely blind to their own shortcomings.'

He had reviewed these four personally. He knew their skill levels, their lack of teamwork, their overinflated egos. And now here they were, mocking someone who had actually completed the commission they had failed.

Bernard drained the last of his wine, slamming the empty glass on the counter. His mood darkened as he stood from his seat, his gaze sharp and unyielding.

He turned toward the group, ready to deliver a reality check they wouldn't soon forget.