Whose Young Master

After the scare, the two waited in the tailor shop for a long time.

Only after confirming there was no more sound from upstairs did they finally relax.

"Since we have nowhere else to spend the night, we'll just have to make do here and sneak out at dawn."

"Mm." Frieren nodded, then looked at Shane carefully, rubbing her chin in thought before asking in a low voice:

"So, are you a monk now?"

?

Shane was puzzled.

"Judging by what just happened, you must have cast the magic [Goddess's Barrier] that old man Beryl analyzed, right? To be right in front of them and remain undetected—that magic is truly impressive."

"As far as I know, the Goddess's magic can only be cast by monks carrying a Holy Scripture. Does that mean you've changed your class to a monk? Or perhaps a martial monk?"

Listening to Frieren, Shane didn't know how to explain it for a moment.

That Holy Scripture had already disintegrated due to the Strip effect; he could actually cast the Goddess's magic without holding it at all.

Of course, that wasn't the point. The point was that he didn't even know what his own class was.

If he called himself a warrior, his physical stats weren't high enough; if he called himself a mage, it was too much of a stretch; and if he called himself a monk, he would absolutely disagree.

Monks had to remain celibate for life.

Even if someone asked him to be one, he would absolutely, definitely, never do it.

After thinking for a moment, a term suddenly popped into Shane's mind.

"I'm playing a Freelancer."

"Hm?"

The elven girl looked confused.

Shane gave her a mysterious wink, putting on an expression that implied it was something to be understood rather than explained.

(≡ᆺ≡)

Not long after, Frieren began to nod off.

Shane watched the bobbing white-haired head, smiled, reached out, and straightened her posture so she could lean against his shoulder.

At dawn, a thin mist shrouded the city like a veil, and the air still carried a hint of the night's chill.

The city streets were slowly waking up.

Cargo carriages drove past one after another, the mud on their wheels leaving shallow tracks on the road. Long lines formed in front of bakeries, the freshly baked bread emitting an enticing aroma. Women carried baskets on their arms, clutching copper coins in their hands, wishing each other a good morning.

Shane, sporting dark circles under his eyes, dragged a swaying Frieren through the crowd.

Last night was like a nightmare.

Shane knew Frieren's sleeping habits were "impressive," but he hadn't expected them to be this impressive.

He hadn't slept a wink, constantly on guard against an "assassination."

Frieren changed positions every few minutes, either slapping him or kicking him directly.

Sigh.

This was nothing like the "wonderful night of sleeping with a beautiful white-haired, twin-tailed elven girl" he had dreamed of!

He needed to find an inn quickly; he couldn't take it anymore!

At the entrance of the Norm Inn.

After confirming the name on the sign, Shane went straight to the front desk and pulled a letter from his pocket.

This was left for them by the merchant uncle yesterday after they realized they couldn't enter the city. He had promised that the offer of free lodging would always stand, and with this letter, they could stay at any [Norm Inn] in the surrounding towns.

Shane certainly wouldn't waste such a freebie.

"Hello, ma'am. Please take a look at this letter and get me two rooms, thank you."

Behind the counter, the landlady, who had been checking her ledger, looked up. Upon seeing Shane, her eyes lit up, and she instantly beamed.

"Good morning, young man."

She leaned over to take the letter from Shane, her ample bosom thumping onto the counter due to the movement.

He didn't know if it was his imagination, but it felt like the counter had just dropped a bit lower than when he first walked in.

"That's right, it's Mr. Norm's seal." The landlady quickly scanned the letter, returned it to Shane, and continued, "Two rooms, is it? No problem, please follow me."

While leading the way, the landlady kept glancing back at Shane, looking more pleased with each look.

It made Shane feel a bit creeped out.

When he woke up again, it was already noon.

The inn only provided simple meals, like bread and juice. Shane thought the bread was too hard and wanted something better.

He could make do when he was broke, but now that he was a wealthy man with over 20 silver coins in his pocket, he had to live a little better.

Furthermore, the most important thing when arriving in a new place was to taste the local delicacies.

After consulting the landlady for recommendations, Shane and Frieren arrived at a restaurant called Pink Bubble, where the dessert known as Frosted Strawberry was said to be the most popular in all of Gostan City.

Frieren became very interested the moment she heard about it.

The restaurant was crowded, and it took Shane quite a while to find a seat in a corner.

Guided by the waiter, the two quickly ordered; Shane's request was simple—two of the signature dishes—while Frieren's was equally simple: one of every dessert on the menu.

"Hey, one of everything? Can you even finish that?"

Frieren let out a sly "hehe" and provided a reason Shane couldn't refute.

"I can eat from noon until night."

Should I say, "as expected of you"?

In the interval while waiting for their food, a commotion suddenly broke out in the restaurant.

Shane looked up to see three people dressed as adventurers sitting at the table closest to the entrance.

They were currently glaring furiously at a blonde youth before them, slamming the table with a deafening thud.

Because of the noisy crowd, Shane could only catch a few fragmented sentences:

Something about not needing a warrior to tank the front line, something about an adventurer party without a priest being nonsense, and so on.

It sounded like a disagreement over party composition.

This was common.

Shane had encountered it before; after all, when it came to forming parties, getting along harmoniously really depended on the compatibility between teammates.

He just didn't know why they were making such an ugly scene in public.

"This Young Master said it: no warriors, no priests."

"The only ones qualified to join a party with me, Brugge, to enter the dungeon are mages."

The youth being targeted by the three looked to be seventeen or eighteen, with short blonde hair and a flippant attitude.

As soon as these words were spoken, they immediately drew the attention of everyone in the restaurant.

Provoked by his statement, one of the three even drew his weapon, though fortunately, the other two held him back.

Shane frowned. Why did he sound so much like a spoiled brat?

He looked up and studied him carefully for a moment before realizing with a start that he really was a young master.

Behind the blonde youth stood an old butler in a tuxedo and bowtie, and beside the butler were two beautiful maids with ample bosoms.

The refined old butler reached out, took three silver coins from his breast pocket, handed them to the three young men, and said:

"Thank you for coming to the interview, but unfortunately, you are not the teammates my young master desires. Please accept this consolation and leave early."

Seeing the gleaming silver coins, the few who had been angry looked at each other, their tempers finally cooling. The initial impulse gone, they eventually took the money and left.

With the conflict settled, the old butler raised his left hand to his heart and whispered a reminder to the young master:

"Young Master Brugge, I must remind you that the Inverted Land dungeon is a very high-level labyrinth. To date, many adventurer parties have gone in and never returned. The City Hall just issued a ban this morning, suspending all dungeon raids."

"Even if you find teammates, you will not be able to go."