The city of Yudaril is one of trade and merce.
It lies just east of the country of Levatin and does not belong to any nation.
Positioned between almost every major country, it's a bustling city where a large variety of merchants and travelers e to.
Naturally, that includes adventurers as well. In fact, back when this was a game, this was where new players began their adventure.
Despite that 200 years that have elapsed, Yudaril remained lively as ever.
I was relieved to see that even a small part of the world remained as I had known it.
Yeah, I feel kind of attached to this place.
"…Dina, it's difficult to move."
"Please put up with it for now. You'd be recognized in an instant after all. You don't want to attract any unwanted attention, do you?"
While wandering this charming city, I hid my entire body under my overcoat, looking as suspicious as you could get.
As according to Dina's instruction, my wings were wrapped tightly around my body and an overcoat was forced over them.
Moreover, the crimson overcoat I wore had a convenient hood attached to the back.
Yup, this is definitely enough to hide my identity.
But I think it's is making me stand out anyways.
And I can't really move my arms in this outfit.
What is this? Some new kind of sex play?
"Now then, Ruphas-sama. First, acquiring funds for our travels is probably the highest hurdle to overe. Anyone would recognize you at a glance, so it’s extremely hard to find a suitable job, you see? There aren't many people that out there willing to hire a black-winged overlord after all."
"…but those are the events of 200 years ago. In an age without pictures, I doubt anyone would be able to recognize me."
"Naive. That's naive, Ruphas-sama. This trading city is where people of every corner of the world gather, you know? And races with long life spans like elves aren't an exception. They may still remember you clearly."
Hearing out Dina's explanation, I nodded in understanding.
e to think of it, those races exist in this alternate universe.
I myself am a member of one of those long-lived races.
To begin with, the Flugels are the rumored descendants of angels. And regardless of whether that's true, they boast an average lifespan of a ridiculous 1,500 years.
That's why I'm able to retain my young appearance even after 200 years.
By the way, Ruphas used to be 275 years old, so I guess she's 475 years old now.
In human years, she would be 14 when she was sealed and around 24 as of now.
…my outward appearance is of a 15 to 17 year-old girl, though.
"Especially those black wings! Even if they didn't recognize you, your wings stand out too much. For Flugels, those are the wings of taboo after all."
"They're normally black, aren't they? I bet you I'm just a different variety of flugel."
As I've mentioned before, flugels are the descendants of angels.
They themselves believe the same and take pride in their untainted, pure white wings.
They went as far as to insist that those wings were the proof of a flugel, and that their sexual appeal was neither decided by their faces nor their bodies, but rather their wings. Apparently, a male would flaunt his wings at a female to display his affection.
To put things bluntly, whether you're unattractive, obese, pimpled, stink, or wear anime print T-shirts, as long as your wings remain pure white, you're some pretty hot stuff.
On the contrary, no matter how refined your physical appearance is, if your wings are tainted, you'll never be attractive.
In this aspect, my jet black wings are pletely out of question.
They far surpass the jurisdiction of beauty and ugliness. At this rate, I'd only be recognized as a monster.
In human terms… let's see. It's like having green skin, no eyebrows, and hairs sprouting from the middle of my forehead instead of my scalp.
Forget about beauty—I wouldn't even be acknowledged as another Flugel.
Of course, I was fully aware of the backstory. And I had chosen these black wings with this knowledge at hand.
The reason was extremely simple. "Wouldn't wings of taboo just be the coolest?"
…Yup.
Needless to say, many other players thought the same, and jet black wings weren't so unmon.
Rather, more eccentric designs included golden wings, gradients, and even players that took the liberty to pick out a different color for every other feather.
Trying to accept that I stood out while knowing this is… beyond difficult.
If I stand out, then what about those crazy rainbow winged flugels?
"There's nothing normal about it! Please! Be a bit more self-aware!"
"Okay, I got it, I got it. I understand, so stop shouting already."
Having made Dina mad, I shrugged my shoulders.
Good grief. So this world differs enough from the game that I can't put my wings on display, huh.
This seems to be a bit inconvenient.
"Seriously… back to my point. Despite your reputation, there's one line of work that pretty much anyone could take up."
"Ah, adventurers—in other words, people who put their lives on the line to earn a living."
"Exactly. Reputation and social status are unnecessary. Anyone with a mind and body can do it."
Those who put their lives on the line to earn a living—Adventurers.
It's an occupation that requires little more than a bit of determination to take on.
Money and social status are irrelevant. Anyone can accept requests regardless of whether they're a slave or a criminal.
In exchange, your safety isn't guaranteed.
Neither the agency nor the client is held accountable if you were to lose an arm or your life while pleting a request.
In addition, you sink to the bottom of the social hierarchy.
The vagrants and the jobless with no place to stay.
Individuals constantly troubled over where they'll find their next meals.
They're the kind of people who, in their last moments, dream of drowning in gold —then die along the roadside.
That's what it means to be an adventurer.
Whereas in the game, you could revive limitlessly and this reality remained a dark backstory.
Rather, the majority of players farmed money and experience as adventurers and then proceeded through the rest of the game. So the number of adventurers averaged from a couple thousand to hundreds of thousands of players at a time.
So what about the social hierarchy? …all it really amounted to is some verbal abuse from NPC's, so it wasn't that big of a deal.
However, this is reality. Death really is the end of the line, and I'm sure harsh acts of discrimination omitted from the game make their appearance here.
…am I going to be alright?
This is Ruphas Mafahl's body, so death is highly improbable.
But will I be able to stand the sight of blood?
Can I, who can barely stand the sight of a cat or pigeon run over by a car, really do this dirty work?
To be honest, I'm anxious.
"We have arrived. This way please."
In response Dina's invitation, I entered the building after her.
It was a slightly grimy tavern made out of wood.
The first floor was lined with several tables like a cafeteria, and many thug-like figures could be seen sitting throughout.
The moment we step foot into the building, several hungry gazes fixed upon Dina. However, with a suspicious individual (me) standing beside her, none of them had the nerve to approach.
"Yeah, this is it. This shitty atmosphere sure is nostalgic."
"Now that you mention it, you were also an adventurer before establishing your own nation, weren't you?"
—hm? Didn't I just say something a bit out of place?
Nostalgic… no, this really does take me back.
As I said, It's mon knowledge for the majority of novice players to work their way up as adventurers.
I was also one such player and had pleted a great number of requests during my time as one.
However… "I" have never taken single a step into a tavern such as this one.
And yet, I feel nostalgic.
Shoot, it seems that "I" might be merging with "Ruphas" after all…
"Wele. Is there something you would like to order? Or would you like to stay for the night?"
"We would like to accept a request."
"…miss, are you alright?"
The brusque, bald bar-owner shot a dubious look at Dina.
At a glance, Dina seemed unsuited for battle with her slender body and delicate atmosphere.
Indeed, if I was told such a girl was an adventurer, I would also question her sanity.
Dina put on a charming smile in response to the addled shopkeeper.
"Oh, I won't be the one accepting the request."
"Oho, so the red guy over there, huh… Alright, I'd like you to step into the back of the shop for a second. I'd like to take a look at your abilities."
An adventurer is someone who could drop dead at any moment.
However, having one die before they could fulfill the request would put a hole in an agency's reputation.
If rumor went around that "no decent adventurers pick up their requests at that agency
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