F- Rank

Lucas was greeted by the customary mischievous grin of Jack, the bartender who worked part-time. "Hey there," Jack greeted. "Usually, Wednesdays are pretty quiet around here, except for my regulars."

Jack's observation proved correct as the bar was sparsely populated. Scattered across the room were three solitary men, each occupying their own space. At a nearby table, a group of four sat together—a trio of girls accompanied by a boy. Their appearance might have struck others as an unconventional mix, but there was an undeniable sense of warmth and familial connection emanating from them.

Lucas disclosed his purpose to Jack, sharing the cryptic text and expressing his uncertainty. "I have no idea who could have extended the invitation to me," Lucas admitted. "I couldn't help but wonder if it was some kind of trap or ambush."

Jack chuckled, amused by Lucas's apprehension. "The reason they likely invited you here and expected you to feel secure is because this is the most fortified sanctuary for adventurers in the entire world," Jack elucidated. "The enchantments surrounding this place are mind-boggling, the security team is highly skilled, and there's an agreement among adventurers to uphold non-aggression, ensuring neutrality. Trying to pull off anything nefarious here is practically impossible."

Lucas relaxed his tense shoulders as he made his way toward the group of four.

As he drew nearer, he observed that they were all adorned in jackets bearing the insignia of a downward-facing sword encircled by flames. "Are you the ones who sent me the text?" Lucas inquired.

With a startled expression, all of them pivoted their heads, their wide-eyed gazes resembling deer caught in headlights until one of them broke the silence. Standing tall, exuding an air of seriousness, she moved with regal grace. Her hair, a striking white, complemented the snowflake tattoo adorning the back of her left hand. "Apologies for the mysterious message," she introduced herself as Ash, presenting her guild ID to Lucas. "We are low-level adventurers affiliated with the Crimson Blades. We obtained your contact information from a friend in the personnel department."

Her identification card had a sleek, charcoal hue, resembling forged iron. The name inscribed on it read "Ash," while the rank indicated an F-class ranking and her power was identified as an ice marksman. Lucas handed the card back to her before settling into a seat.

Curiosity piqued, Lucas inquired as he took a seat, "Why did you ask me to meet you here?"

Ash cleared her throat. "We need you to take us under your wing."

Ash proceeded to explain the Crimson Guild's policy and their emphasis on rewarding strength. Unlike numerous other guilds that would have outright rejected them, the Crimson Blades accepted all aspiring adventurers. However, this came at the cost of a base pay, as individuals were only compensated upon mission completion. The catch was that access to missions was controlled by a council, and being favoured by them was essential.

With a tinge of frustration, Ash shared that they were being overlooked for even low-ranking dungeon assignments and that they hadn't had a job in months.

In light of their predicament, she implored Lucas to take them under his wing, offering their loyalty and willingness to assist him in any way possible to advance their own prospects.

Lucas couldn't help but empathize with their situation, and a part of him felt compelled to agree to their request. "I'm not sure, guys," he began cautiously. "I have to be honest, I'm still very inexperienced myself, and most of the time I have no idea what I'm doing."

Another girl spoke this time. She was short, had dark hair and had a permanent scowl on her face. "Do you think we don't know that," she said. "That's why we chose you. Nobody with experience would've bothered listening to us. We wanted to speak to you before you started acting like you've got a stick up your..."

The remaining two members swiftly intervened, using their hands to gently stifle the outspoken girl, preventing further words from escaping her lips. Meanwhile, the last girl in the group caught Lucas's attention. Despite her youthful appearance, no older than twelve, she sported a scarf and bandages on her legs. A tattoo of a tear rested beneath her right eye. On the other hand, the remaining male member of their party offered an insincere smile, his sandy brown hair cascading over his overly exposed, hairy chest. A tattoo of a musical note adorned the skin on his neck.

"Hello, I am Bard, forgive my friend, Annie, here," the man interjected. "What she was trying to convey is that your level of experience does not matter to us. Despite your current C rank, we have heard rumours suggesting your potential may actually be of S rank calibre."

The little girl with the tear tattoo spoke up. Her raspy voice filled with determination. "Hi, they call me Mumu. If the rumours are true then it would be foolish of us not to try to gain your favour now while we can," she said. "We will do anything you ask. Anything."

Noticing Lucas's lingering discomfort regarding the notion of having subordinates who unquestioningly obeyed him, the man with the musical note tattoo on his hairy chest detected his embarrassment. "You needn't view us merely as your subordinates," Bard reassured. "Consider us your friends. We are here to share in your joys and sorrows alike. Trust me, having friends who understand the workings of the Crimson Blades will prove invaluable."

Lucas found solace in the words of the man with the hairy chest and appreciated his approach. "Well then, as your friend, I have a small request," Lucas quipped, lightening the mood. "Could you perhaps consider buttoning up your shirt?" Only Annie, the dark-haired girl with an attitude found the humour in Lucas's remark and let out a laugh.

They proceeded to order drinks and engaged in casual conversation, getting to know each other better. As the conversation progressed, Lucas gradually began to open up. "I believe the initial task at hand is finding a new place to live," he expressed. "My landlady has informed me that I'll be evicted tomorrow morning."

Gazing at one another, the group acknowledged the situation, and Bard, the sandy-haired man who had dutifully buttoned up his shirt, broke the silence. "My family owns a hostel, although we no longer accommodate guests," he disclosed. "We all reside together there, and there's ample space for you as well."