The three members of "Crimson Fang" stumbled straight into the guild after fleeing the dungeon, still seething with rage and humiliation. Their red-haired leader slammed his hands on the counter, face twisted in fury.
"Hey! What the hell was that? We got wrecked by some F-rank old man!"
"Uh-huh..." the receptionist murmured, unimpressed.
"He moved traps! To places they couldn't be! That's cheating! You hear me? Investigate him!"
But no matter how much they ranted, the staff didn't take them seriously.
"Crimson Fang" had a reputation—harassing weaker adventurers, stealing their drops, picking fights they didn't deserve. To most guild employees, this was just another case of "guess they picked on the wrong guy and got thrashed." The looks they got were cold and dismissive.
All except from one woman.
Hikawa Reina listened to the report in her office without a flicker of expression. But in her mind, the pieces clicked together into something startling.
An F-rank adventurer. Moving traps.
There was only one man those words could mean.
"Sato Koichi..."
Taking down a B-rank combat party, single-handedly, rendering them helpless. That wasn't something a mere "exploration skill" could do. No—he was hiding a skill no one had ever documented before, something powerful enough to shift the balance.
Reina went back through every report, every observation, every fragment of data. At last, she reached her conclusion: indirect surveillance had gone as far as it could. If she wanted answers, she'd have to go herself.
She opened her desk drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper.
"Adventurer: Sato Koichi – Home Address."
Information sealed behind guild authority. Confidential, illegal for her to access. She didn't care. Her curiosity and her fear of what this man's power might mean outweighed the rules.
* * *
That night, I was at my apartment, sitting down to dinner with my daughter Misaki.
Tonight's menu: sukiyaki, splurged with real domestic beef. Leftovers from the meat I'd bought to cheer Momo up.
"Dad, you've been rolling in it lately. What kind of part-time gig pays this well?"
"Well... let's just say I've picked up a knack for things."
I gave her a vague smile. No way in hell I could tell her I'd spent the day half-killing a B-rank party in the dungeon.
This was the life I wanted—peaceful, ordinary, worth protecting. I savored the taste of hot tofu, holding onto that warmth.
And then the cheap chime of the apartment doorbell rang.
"Hmm? Who could that be? Delivery?" Misaki asked.
"No... it's late for that."
Frowning, I stood and went to the door. No visitors planned. Probably a newspaper peddler, or some sales pitch.
I opened the door without a second thought—
And froze solid.
"Good evening. You're Sato Koichi, yes?"
Standing there was a woman in a crisp black suit, her face as expressionless as carved ice. I recognized her instantly—the guild receptionist who'd given me that piercing look before. Hikawa Reina.
"I'm with the guild," she said coolly. "May I have a word with you?"
Her voice carried the chill of night air, calm yet commanding. No room to refuse.
My gut screamed danger.
This was bad. Really, really bad.
The little pocket of peace I'd built for myself and Misaki—
It was about to be shattered by the ice queen at my door.