Selling Dreams, Big Dreams

"So you mean that after defeating two gargoyles and entering the next area, you fell off a cliff and died before you even had time to explore?"

Bed City, City Lord's Manor, top-floor room.

A dignified old man adjusted his glasses and scrutinized the elf before him with suspicion.

Sithran's little face had reddened with shame.

"Seriously?"

Sithran wanted nothing more than to crawl into a crack in the ground.

"Aren't you Silver-rank?"

Sithran wanted to die.

"My Second Son hasn't even come out yet, but you died before him? He doesn't even have an Intermediate Profession."

Sithran's waist nearly bent to the floor as she shouted, "We are truly ashamed! We have no right to accept the commission fee!"

"Ah..."

Philip Bede, City Lord of Bed City and head of House of Bede, sighed. He removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, and an air of age had already appeared on his face.

"Forget it. You'll receive the commission fee as usual. House of Bede never goes back on its word, and besides, you did indeed bring back gains."

Aside from Verde and Charon, the rest of Sithran's team had returned. Though every one of them still looked shaken, each had unexpectedly brought something back.

The Map Expert had drawn a small portion of the Swamp Area map and brought back intelligence that lighting the Beacon Fire would open the fortress gates.

The Medicine Expert had brought back Moss Balls in all sorts of colors, proving that these inconspicuous little things possessed detoxifying effects comparable to high-tier potions. However, Moss Balls of different colors seemed capable of curing different poisons.

The Ore Expert had accidentally activated a Teleportation Trap and entered the Underground Mine by mistake, where he was cut in half by a Furnace Knight. Yet before dying, he had seen Blood Essence Ore covering the ground, and even rare purple Blood Crystal worth a hundred times more.

The other experts had encountered different monsters and brought back intelligence, which barely counted as gains.

Other than protecting the experts, Sithran and the other adventurers had contributed about as much as the experts themselves.

That was why she was so ashamed.

Everyone they were supposed to protect had died. This was undoubtedly one of the greatest failures of her adventuring career.

And she had ended her dungeon expedition in a particularly humiliating way.

The story went back to when she and Shuen had first entered the dungeon. The moment they stepped into Blighttown, both of them felt an overwhelming chill, and every part of their bodies felt uncomfortable.

They had barely taken a few steps before monsters surrounded them: Giant Rats covered in pustules that splattered fluid when struck, Fleshball Monsters that resembled Slimes mashed together from unidentified chunks of meat but were even more revolting. They reeked so badly that the stench made one want to vomit from even a slight distance away, let alone during battle.

Sithran had practically run all the way out. She felt that her Mental Power had suffered a tremendous blow.

In the past, she had held a peculiar fondness for monsters. She thought imposing monsters were cool, and even those that were not had their own distinctive traits worth appreciating.

But after visiting Sain Underground City, she learned for the first time that monsters could be both so bizarre and so disgusting.

I, Sithran, am a monster slayer, desu. No monster shall be spared. No mercy!

In truth, the Giant Rats and Fleshball Monsters were child's play. They might be startling at first glance, but after looking at them a few more times, one got used to them.

What she truly could not endure were the monsters they encountered while crossing the Suspension Bridge.

They were several agile monkeys, so swift that even with her superb archery, hitting them was difficult.

Most importantly—

They threw shit.

Lump after lump of warm, freshly made shit.

When they could not squeeze any more out, they would even pull out jars filled with shit and smash them at people.

When Shuen was forced to use his precious shield to block the shit, Sithran clearly saw tears streaming down his face.

Facing a sky full of falling feces, Sithran chose to jump off the cliff and kill herself when a massive lump of shit was about to hit her in the face.

Shuen followed immediately after. The honest, simple-minded big man wore an expression of relief.

After returning, he threw away his shield.

Sithran had changed all her equipment as well.

Neither of them spoke a word about the experience. They only said that they had triggered a trap and the Suspension Bridge had broken halfway across. Otherwise—

They would probably spend the rest of their lives being mocked by everyone.

There was every reason to believe that the Mental Power they unleashed while being attacked by those monkeys was no less than what an ordinary person would release upon dying.

"Cough, cough."

Count Philip's cough pulled Sithran's thoughts back to reality. Only then did she realize there was nothing left to do and that it was time to leave.

She had originally come to return the money out of a sense of responsibility, but generous Count Philip refused to take it back. That was wonderful.

"Then we'll take our leave. I wish you all the best, Mr. Philip."

Sithran gave an elegant bow and turned to leave. Sain Underground City filled her mind.

If she did not clear it at least once, it would likely become a lifelong obsession she would never escape.

But with the strength of her group, they would probably have to die dozens of times before clearing it.

Waste time trying to clear the dungeon? Did she not want to take commissions and make money anymore? Without money, she could not even afford Teleportation Crystals!

So she came up with a good idea—call in reinforcements.

"To my sister:"

"How is Elf Forest lately? I'm sure the Warrior Team under your command can drive away any danger. Is our mother still being her Queen? Your little sister has encountered something she wants to accomplish no matter what..."

"Bang."

When the reception room door closed, Count Philip put his glasses back on and began reading the Mineral Experts' report again.

"We discovered that this mine-like region contains an astonishing reserve of Blood Crystal, with large amounts clustered together to the point of forming lotus-shaped crystal formations. This was unimaginable in the past. I still remember the old Sain Underground City: miners had to toil with Pickaxes for half a day just to dig out a palm-sized piece of Blood Crystal from a Stone Wall. Then they had to travel a great distance to reach the next Gathering Point. Their entire day's harvest was pitifully small. The next day, once the dungeon reset, they had to dig through the Stone Walls all over again, wasting labor on useless tasks."

"If we can find a way to quickly reach the mine area, Blood Healing Potion production will grow explosively. Your wealth will rival that of a Duke. Even Parsi, the proudest prince in the southern Empire, will invite you to his banquets."

A light appeared in Count Philip's eyes.

"But the monsters in this region are far too powerful. I encountered a Giant Lizard covered from head to toe in blue crystals, as well as the most terrifying Mysterious Knight. Even after using a High-Tier Defense Magic Scroll, I could not block his attack. With just one strike, I lost consciousness completely. He will be the greatest obstacle to your Blood Crystal mining."

"However, Count, please do not give up. You absolutely must not give up. I discovered Purple Bloodstone—purple! You must know what that represents. With it, perhaps we can create the Supreme Potion that has only ever existed in theory! Do you remember the King's Strange Illness? Perhaps it could be used for that! If it truly works, you will become the first new Duke after the war ends!"

"What we mean is, do not let the miners stop working. We must invest more people. Even if only one person is lucky enough to bring back Purple Bloodstone, it will still be a guaranteed profit."

"Our Expert Group unanimously proposes sending at least five hundred miners into Sain Underground City every day."

Count Philip put down the report in his hand and lifted his teacup to take a sip, only to discover that his hand was trembling.

He was excited. He believed the grand dream the experts had sold him.

"Go! They can all go! I'll recruit every miner in the territory!"

"Knock, knock, knock—"

Someone suddenly knocked on the door. Just as Philip, his thoughts interrupted, was about to berate them, a familiar voice came from outside.

"Father, I'm back."

Please keep reading, please vote monthly. The results are not looking good, and my resolve is about to collapse.