The day after that run-in with the S-Rank party, I found something wedged into the rusted slit of my apartment's mailbox. An envelope—thick, heavy, stamped with the Adventurers' Guild crest in gold foil. Not the kind of thing you mistake for a flyer or another late bill. My stomach tightened as I tore it open.
"Summons. To adventurer Sato Koichi."
The letter inside was all stiff formality, but the meaning was clear enough: show up at guild headquarters on the appointed date and time. And when I saw the sender's name, I let my head fall back and groaned at the ceiling.
"Adventurers' Guild, Acting Guildmaster—Hikawa Reina."
So the Ice Woman herself. I'd thought she was just a receptionist with a frozen smile, but no—acting guildmaster meant she was running the show. Which also meant ignoring this wasn't an option. I rubbed at my temples and sighed. Why did trouble always stick to me like this?
* * *
When the day arrived, I walked to guild headquarters with the enthusiasm of a man heading for his own sentencing. I almost drifted toward the adventurers' lounge out of habit, but a staffer intercepted me at the entrance.
"We've been expecting you, Sato-sama."
Sama. The honorific alone made my skin crawl.
Instead of the usual common spaces, they guided me upward, past reinforced doors and into areas I'd never seen. At the top, a heavy mahogany door opened to reveal a reception room so lavish it felt like I'd stumbled into a royal palace—thick carpets that swallowed my steps, sofas that gleamed under soft light. Definitely not a place for someone like me.
"Thank you for coming, Sato-san."
She was already waiting. Hikawa Reina. Not in her receptionist attire this time, but a severe, tailored uniform that screamed authority. Standing straight, her presence filled the room—cold, sharp, impossible to ignore. I sank into the sofa opposite her, the cushions swallowing me whole.
"I appreciate you making time for us today," she said, voice smooth as glass.
"Yeah. So what's this really about?" I kept my tone flat.
She didn't waste breath on pleasantries.
"The undead Stampede incident. You were the one who resolved it, weren't you?"
There it was. I forced my face blank and shook my head. "Must be a mistake. I was home watching TV that day."
"I see." Her expression didn't change. She tapped something on the tablet resting on the table, and the wall screen flickered on. Dungeon footage—corridors erupting in fire, floodwaters sweeping through, gates crashing shut. No sign of me anywhere, of course. But the timestamps and readings lined up perfectly with the moments my skill had activated.
"What do you suppose the odds are of so many coincidences?" she asked.
"Pretty good, maybe. Guess we both got lucky," I muttered.
That earned the first shift in her demeanor: a faint exhale, part laugh, part sigh.
"Your casual attitude may be a virtue," she said, eyes narrowing just slightly. "But let's stop pretending."
She shut off the monitor and fixed me with a gaze that pinned me to the sofa.
"The guild needs your power. I'm asking you to cooperate with us."
The words I'd dreaded. My shoulders sagged as I stared at the ceiling. "And if I refuse?"
Silence. I spoke again, slower this time. "I'm just an F-rank. I don't care about saving the world. As long as I can live quietly with my daughter, that's enough."
The truth, plain and simple. Hikawa didn't flinch. If anything, she looked like she'd already expected that answer. Then she smiled—a small, confident curve that sent a chill down my spine.
"Very well. I respect your decision."
For a moment, I almost believed her. Then she continued.
"In that case, we'll have you cooperate in another way."
And just like that, the trap snapped shut.