Fated to Die to the Player, I'll Live Freely with My SSS-Class Ship! Chapter 8: Connected to the Main Quest

Surprisingly, the registration proceeded as usual, as if the earlier mishap hadn't happened. I was asked for basic details like my na, age, race, and other essentials, which should already exist in my public information file.

Of course, there's a reason why they don't simply copy-paste public data into their database. Many rcenaries prefer anonymity, withholding personal details to protect themselves in case a job or commission goes south. While not forbidden, this lack of transparency does have a drawback—less trust from potential clients, which ans fewer personalized commissions or specialized missions. As such, it's often better to "alter" your details rather than hide them entirely.

For , I stuck to Gerard's basic information, pulling it directly from the public data I accessed on my terminal. The only thing I changed was his na. Instead of "Gerard Astoria,"—a na that would instantly draw attention—I registered as "Arthur Grail," my na back in the real world.

I'm still uncertain if returning to my original world is even possible, but for now, this universe is my new reality. Using my real-world na feels like a way of solidifying my resolve—to truly live in this universe, for better or worse.

"... Congratulations, Mr. Arthur. You are now a Bronze Rank rcenary," rcy announced in her usual professional tone, handing a bronze-colored card that matched my rank. "Would you like an explanation about commissions and quests? If so, please follow . I'll explain it to you personally."

"... Alright."

Her tone and smile didn't leave room for refusal. It was clear that this was more than a simple orientation. The earlier mishap—calling her by her real na—was undoubtedly the real reason she was taking aside.

'Gotta think of an excuse—and fast!'

Thankfully, although my mory can be spotty with minor details, I'll never forget sothing as significant as rcy's backstory. By the ti we reached the backrooms for a private conversation, I had already concocted a believable lie to cover my tracks.

"Please, sit down," rcy said, gesturing toward an elegant sofa set.

The furniture looked expensive, and I hesitated for a mont before sitting. The cushions were incredibly soft yet firm, sinking only slightly under my weight.

"What amazing material," I muttered under my breath, briefly running my hand along the armrest before turning to face rcy, who had seated herself across from . "So? I'm guessing you want to ask how I knew your na, right?"

A mixture of fear, doubt, and curiosity could be seen in her gaze, though her composed deanor didn't waver.

"As you might know, receptionists' identities are kept private for their safety," she began calmly. "If you can explain how you ca to know my na, I'm willing to overlook this incident without imposing any penalties."

'So she suspects I accessed so kind of backdoor to obtain her information.'

She wasn't wrong to think so—such thods do exist. But ntioning that would only dig deeper into trouble.

I took a deep breath, feigning calmness. "You know that I'm an Astoria, right?" I started. "Years ago, during my societal debut with my father, I t your father—Captain Terrence Greenwood. Or should I say, Major Greenwood now? Please send him my regards on his recent promotion."

rcy remained silent, her expression unreadable, as she listened intently.

"It was during one of those events," I continued. "In a mont of drunken enthusiasm, your father showed a picture of you and ntioned your na. As luck would have it, I have a good mory, so it stuck with . I didn't expect to et you here, let alone see that you look just as youthful and beautiful as you did in that picture."

I added the last line with a wry smile, hoping to disarm her. According to her in-ga lore, rcy should be about 100 human years old now. Considering the long lifespan of space-elves, she'd likely look this way for another 500 years or so.

"... I see," she said after a few long seconds. "So you didn't obtain my information illegally, but heard it from my father. I apologize for doubting you, Mr. Arthur." She bowed her head slightly, a gesture of sincerity.

"Ah, it's fine—no need to apologize," I replied quickly, waving my hand. "It was my fault for saying your na out loud in public."

"Fufu," rcy chuckled lightly. "Only a few trusted adventurers overheard, so no harm was done. But please be careful next ti, alright? Calling a receptionist by their real na is punishable by law, after all."

"I understand," I said with a relieved smile.

Just as I began to relax, leaning into the plush sofa, rcy suddenly spoke, as though sothing important had just co to mind. "Ah, right. You ntioned you're acquainted with my father, didn't you?"

"...Yes," I replied calmly, though inwardly, I was unsure.

Gerard might have known her father, but I couldn't be certain. Still, as the heir to a powerful conglorate, the odds were in my favor. Besides, the excuse I gave wasn't just a simple bluff—I had another goal in mind, and her next words would likely align perfectly with it.

"That's wonderful! Then, could you accept a special commission from ?" rcy asked, tapping at her wrist terminal.

A mont later, a holographic panel materialized, displaying the details of a commission in the standard mission format:

[---

Commission ID: TF-80003506011

Applicant: rcy Greenwood

Title: Track Terrence Greenwood's Location

Details: Major Terrence Greenwood has been missing in action (MIA) for three months. No contact has been made during this period, though neither he nor his crew has been confird dead. Seers of the Siren Race failed to locate them but remained confident in their survival. The last known location was the Jiguer Sector in the Katalet Star Cluster.

Mission: Locate traces of Major Terrence and his crew; if possible, bring them back.

Reward: 10,000,000 Credits

---]

"This is..." I gasped, feigning surprise as I read the commission details.

Of course, I already knew about this quest—it was one of the main storyline missions. Its existence also ant there was a high probability of discovering other side quests tied to it.

Misinterpreting the serious expression on my face, rcy nodded slowly, her tone heavy with sadness. "Yes. My father has been missing for a while now. I'm growing worried about his well-being, so I'm asking trustworthy rcenaries to help find him."

"I see," I replied thoughtfully. "But why ? We only t today."

Hearing my question, rcy smiled faintly. "Because not only have you seen my father before, but you're also from the renowned Astoria family. With such a background, I believe you're trustworthy enough for this mission."

I studied her expression carefully. Her expression reflected nervousness, mingled with a glimr of hope. After a mont of consideration—or at least the appearance of it—I nodded.

"Alright, I accept. I'll help you look for Major Terrence."

Like sunlight breaking through clouds, rcy's face lit up with a radiant, heartfelt smile. "Thank you, Mr. Arthur! You're the second person to accept this commission, so I'm truly grateful!"

"..."

Of course, I knew what had happened to the "first" rcenary who accepted this quest. By now, they were nothing more than space debris drifting in this "Jiguer Sector" or whatever. They just had bad luck, plain and simple.

"Ah, that reminds ," I said, recalling another reason for my visit to the rcenary Union. "I salvaged so loot from pirates on my way here and need to sell it. Could you process the sale? Also, I'd like to call soone over—she insists on overseeing the transaction to make sure I don't cheat her out of her share. Even though I'm the one who dealt with the pirates."

"Salvaged goods from pirates, is it?" rcy's professional smile returned. "Of course, we can handle it. I'll step away for a mont to call your companion over as well."

"Thanks, that's a big help."

A few minutes after rcy left, Eva stord into the room, eyes blazing. "You left behind without a word!" she growled.

Her tirade didn't last long, though. rcy's return quickly diffused the situation, and we proceeded with the negotiations. The goods we salvaged fetched a total of 175,000 Credits, with half—87,500 Credits—transferred directly to Eva's account.

After confirming the fair split, Eva allowed a faint smile to cross her lips. It was fleeting, vanishing as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by her usual scowl.

With this transaction settled, she had no reason to stick around anymore. However, I need her as an ally, for the sake of the plot and saving the universe, so I extended a hand and made my offer.

"Eva Beastol," I said, eting her wary gaze. "I'm starting my own rcenary band. Would you consider joining? I promise a fair share of rewards on all commissions."

Her eyes flickered with unspoken emotions, barely concealed behind her mask of contempt. Anxiety, hope, and curiosity. Still, she shook her head, as though playing hard to get.

"...Give so ti to think," she whispered softly before turning and walking away.

I watched her retreating figure and sighed, shrugging my shoulders. I hadn't expected her to accept right away, anyway.

"For now, I guess I should go around and look for so weapon shops for my ship." The very next mont after I decided so, a sudden voice called out from behind .

"Brother!"

'Again with the 'brother' call?' I thought to myself, annoyance flickering across my mind.

Before I even turned to face the speaker, a sense of unease crept in. The tone was far too familiar, yet held an edge that made my instincts flare. Without even seeing their face, I could already tell—they were up to no good.