"Another form of cooperation, huh?"
When I said it, Hikawa Reina's lips curved into that perfect, polished smile of hers, the kind that made every instinct scream danger. Sales training had taught me years ago: anyone who smiled like that already had the knife hidden behind their back.
"Yes. You don't want to be a hero, nor to stand in the spotlight. I respect that. But burying your observation and analytical ability would be a loss not just to the guild, but to society as a whole."
"...Haa."
Overselling, obviously. Still, she tapped on her tablet and slid a document onto the table in front of me. Glowing text, official seals—too legitimate to dismiss.
[Appointment Order]
[Title] Guild Special Advisor: Dungeon Structure Consultant
[Affiliation] Adventurers' Guild, Strategy Operations Division
[Duties] Investigation of unexplored or high-risk areas designated by the guild, with a focus on structural mapping and securing safe routes.
[Compensation] Special rewards equivalent to A-rank adventurers, paid per completed mission.
[Notes] Adventurer rank remains F. Freedom for personal exploration outside missions is granted.
"...Advisor?" I muttered.
"That's right. Your skill—an exploration-type ability. It suits reconnaissance more than combat. With this position, you won't be forced onto the front lines. You'll assist as a specialist in the rear."
I exhaled silently, chest easing. So, she hadn't figured it out. She thought my power was a high-grade detection skill, some ability to sense layouts and tamper with traps. Not the truth—that I could move and shift objects themselves. The lie I'd tossed out in a hurry still held. That gave me breathing room.
I kept the relief off my face and stared hard at the document instead. Every clause was calculated with terrifying precision. No parades, no "hero treatment," I'd be kept in the shadows, nameless and safe. The money—A-rank rewards. More than I'd ever dreamed of. My daughter's future glimmered behind those numbers. And hidden in the fine print, the real trap: "Rank F remains" and "freedom for outside activity." If I refused, Reina could say, "We gave him everything, and still he wouldn't cooperate." That would brand me suspicious. The leash would tighten.
Accept, and I got money and a measure of independence. Refuse, and my quiet life ended. Some "choice."
"...Fine. I'll accept the offer."
"Wise of you," Reina said, nodding with satisfaction.
I'd lost, plain and simple.
* * *
"Then let's move straight into your first assignment." My signature had barely dried before she slid another folder across, her motions fluid and prepared like she'd planned this from the start.
"As Advisor, your initial mission will be the Abyssal Necropolis—the very site of the Stampede."
"...That place is still dangerous."
"Exactly. That's why we need your strength. Collapsed rubble, untriggered traps, lingering undead. Your role is to secure a safe route."
Officially, reconnaissance. In truth, a field test. She wanted to see my ability with her own eyes. Classic Reina—thorough and ruthless.
"Of course, you won't be going alone."
Her eyes flicked toward the door. A soft knock, the handle turned, and—
"O-oh, good work today, Sato-san."
Momo stepped in, bowing quickly, hands clutching a comm device and survey terminal.
"Wait—Momo? What are you doing here?"
"She's been formally assigned as your assistant," Reina said, smooth as ever. "Her duty is to act as your eyes, record your instructions, and report to us."
So she'd found out Momo was tagging along with me and turned it into an official chain around my neck. A perfect move. Unbreakable.
I slumped back, rubbed my face, and muttered under my breath. "...She sees through everything. That damned Ice Woman."
And just like that, my "job" was decided for me.