Chapter 83: Team Foresight (Patreon)

A man confidently walked down one of the safest streets in the city, moving with light footwork and humming softly to himself.

He appeared to be in his early twenties and around the mid-170 cm range in height. His blonde hair and healthy, tanned skin made him blend into the Empire's populace—an appearance common enough not to stand out. 

Not particularly handsome, his features wouldn't catch the eye in a crowd, but the smile on his face and confidence with which he walked were enough to make him look more attractive than average. 

With each movement, the faint sound of chains clinking of a chain shirt could be heard under his neat, wrinkle-free clothes.

At his waist hung two short swords, one on each side. On his back, strapped to his waist, was a mace—a weapon designed to crush—and a stiletto for precision strikes.

It was uncommon for someone to carry such an assortment of weapons. Most adventurers wielded a single weapon or perhaps carried a backup. 

But this man with no adventurer’s plate was certainly not an adventurer—he was a "Worker."

A Worker.

This was the term for those who had fallen out of the ranks of adventurers. While the Guild regulated the assignments and tasks adventurers took on, distributing them based on rank and skill, Workers operated outside this system. They often took on dangerous and morally dubious jobs for money or other rewards, which gave them a reputation far worse than that of adventurers. 

If adventurers represented the light, workers represented the darkness.

This particular Worker, Hekkeran Termite, had an entirely relaxed expression as he approached the inn where he and his comrades had decided to meet at.

But as soon as he opened the door, a loud, frustrated voice greeted him.

"I already told you—I don't know!"

"No, no, there’s no way you wouldn’t know."

"How am I supposed to know where he is? I’m not his keeper, nor am I his family!"

"But aren’t you his colleague?"

A man and a woman were arguing in the middle of the inn's tavern. Hekkeran recognized the woman.

Her fierce eyes and the lack of makeup gave her a rough appearance. The most striking feature, however, were her elongated ears—longer than a human's, yet not as pronounced as a full-blooded elf’s. She was a half-elf.

Elves were typically slender, and it was clear she had inherited this trait. Her overall figure was slim, and her chest and hips lacked the roundness often associated with women.

She wore fitted leather armor, but unlike usual, she wasn't carrying her quiver or bow. The only weapon visible was the dagger at her waist.

Her name was Imina, one of Hekkeran’s companions.

The man arguing with her, however, was a stranger to him.

They continued their heated argument.

“I told you already—”

Imina's voice had risen in pitch, her irritation growing by the moment. Upon noticing this, Hekkeran swiftly stepped forward, maintaining a calm demeanor despite a hint of irritation.

“What’s going on, Imina?”

At the sound of his voice, Imina finally turned to face him, her expression transforming into one of surprise.

“And who are you?”

The stranger man, who had been arguing with Imina, shot Hekkeran a hostile look, his tone sharp and aggressive, as if he were ready to attack at any moment. But Hekkeran, who had faced far more dangerous monsters, merely offered a bitter smile.

“He’s our leader.” Imina replied frustatedly.

“Ohhh... Hekkeran Termite? I’ve heard about you.”

“Keep it down!” Hekkeran cursed at the man. “This is an inn. There are other people here. Show some respect.”

The man shrank back under Hekkeran’s glare and his aggression quickly melted away.

“No, no, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean—"

At that moment, the door of the inn creaked open once more. Both Hekkeran and Imina, along with the man, turned toward the entrance.

A pair of newcomers stepped in—a handsome man clad in shining white armor and a beautiful woman in a brown robe.

Their presence instantly drew everyone's attention, and their eyes were drawn to the plates hanging from the duo's necks.

"Adamantite-class adventurers?"

“What are they doing here?” someone whispered.

Hekkeran glanced at the man and woman with cautious eyes, while Imina wore a surprised expression. Noticing her expressions, Hekkeran could tell where her attention was focused, and he felt a pang of irritation at it.

Even Hekkeran thought the two newcomers were extremely handsome and beautiful. The armored man had light blonde hair and pale blue eyes. His sharp features made him even more attractive.

The woman in the robe had her long black hair pulled back behind her head, and her sharp, keen eyes made her look pleasantly arrogant.

Hekkeran couldn’t help but blush a little at how beautiful the woman was and then cursed himself for thinking so.

"I heard a commotion. Is this the right place?" the man in armor asked.

"It seems so," the woman beside him replied.

They both turned their attention toward Hekkeran.

"Was it you who caused the ruckus?" The man asked authoritatively.

Hekkeran stepped back, surprised. "No, but who are you?"

"We're adventurers. We can hear a fight from a distance. While passing by, we overheard some heated voices, so we came to check."

The height difference between the two men was obvious. Hekkeran was around 175 centimeters, while this stranger towered over him at nearly 195. His presence alone made Hekkeran feel outmatched, even without a word.

"This has nothing to do with you. Stay out of it."

Hekkeran snapped in frustration, fueled by a sense of inferiority. But the man remained unfazed.

"Is that so? It seems like quite a problem," the man continued, then turned to Imina. "Half-elf girl, what's going on?"

"M-Me?!" Imina stammered, and her face flushed. She turned her head, avoiding eye contact with the man.

"Yes, you. Is there anyone else here who fits that description?"

"Ah, right."

"I’ve got this, okay? You don’t need to stick your nose in," Hekkeran interjected, stepping forward.

“Hekkeran! You don’t need to be so aggressive,” Imina gave him a disapproving look.

“Whose side are you on, Imina?”

“Me? Well… I mean… Look, it’s rude to act like that toward strangers!”

She snapped back, siding with the platinum-haired man.

Hekkeran’s jaw dropped, shocked at her response.

"So, what’s really happening here?" the man asked again.

Imina sighed. "That guy came up to me out of nowhere and started harassing me."

Lucifer turned his gaze toward the troublemaker.

"You, over there. Is that true?"

"W-What? Me?!"

The stranger, who had been cocky earlier, immediately changed his behavior.

Lucifer took another step forward, narrowing the distance between them. "What exactly were you trying to pull here?"

"N-Nothing! I swear! I… I have an appointment I need to get to. I’ll be leaving now!" The troublemaker stuttered, trying to flee, but Lucifer reached out, grabbing his shoulder.

"Hold on. You’re not leaving until you apologize. Do you even have a brain under that thick skull?"

"I-I’m sorry, Ms. Imina! I swear I’ll never do anything like this again!" he pleaded.

Imina crossed her arms. "Well, fine… Just don’t do it again."

The troublemaker nodded furiously before fleeing toward the door.

After watching him flee, Lucifer turned to leave with Nabe.

“Well, that’s that. We’re done here."

However, before Lucifer could leave, Imina raised her voice.

"Hey! Wait!"

"What is it?"

He stopped, glancing back over his shoulder.

“Um, can you tell me your name? I-I just want to thank you properly,” she said, a little flustered.

“Name’s Lucifer,” the man replied as he stepped out the door.

Imina whispered the name to herself, “Lucifer…” over and over, clearly smitten.

Standing beside her, Hekkeran, watching her reaction, felt a sense of unease settle over him because, at that moment, Irina clearly had the face of someone who had just fallen in love.

Of course, she still forgot to thank him properly.

…….

Inside the quiet inn, the door swung open, and two figures entered.

"I'm back."

"I'm home."

The first voice was the soft whisper of a woman who could still be considered a girl, while the second voice, a man's polite and measured one, made sure not to overshadow the first.

Stepping in first was the girl with silky hair, cut just above her shoulders, who had a delicately beautiful face and a gracefulness about her that was more refined than purely attractive, but there was something unsettlingly emotionless—like a doll—in her expression.

She gripped a long iron staff that matched her height, covered in intricate symbols and runes. Draped in a voluminous robe, she also wore thick protective garments underneath, indicating her job as a magic caster.

Behind her was the man seemingly in his thirties, clad in full plate armor, though he wore no helmet. Despite his rugged, stocky features, his neatly cut hair and well-trimmed beard gave him a clean, disciplined look.

These two were Arche Eeb Rile Furt and Roberdyck Goltron, the remaining members of Hekkeran's party, Foresight.

"Hey, we're here." Roberdyck greeted warmly.

"Welcome back."

Hekkeran turned to face them and returned their greeting.

However, the atmosphere between Hekkeran and Imina was tense, with something clearly amiss.

While Hekkeran's expression seemed stiff, Imina, on the other hand, seemed to be daydreaming.

"Is everything alright with you two?"

"It's nothing serious," Hekkeran replied, trying to dismiss the tension.

"Yes, yes, he's right," Imina quickly snapped back to reality, though her forced smile didn't help her case.

Roberdyck and Arche exchanged glances, silently noting the strained atmosphere. Something had definitely happened.

"Shall we take this over to the table?"

Hekkeran suggested, gesturing toward a round table deeper inside the inn.

With a nod, they followed.

"Alright then, let's begin our Foresight meeting." Roberdyck spoke, settling in.

Unbeknownst to them, this meeting was about to change their fates forever.