This Brand New World is a Scam

Farrafut, also known as the Nest of the Hills. It is a wealthy livestock and trading community known not only for its delicious dairy products but for raising some of the most well-known adventurers in Engkt. It is where young troublemakers begin to utilize their wits in the deepest dungeons and the highest mountains. Bringing home not only the bounty of their experience but the pride and glory of the town itself. Or at least that's what it said in the pamphlet...

Slam!

With a rattling noise, the heavy doors of a certain Guildhouse swung open. From the dust, a man came strutting forward with overflowing flamboyancy. He carried nothing but a short-chipped dagger, and a rugged satchel. He wore a poncho that covered most of his torso. His messy hair littered with cobwebs, his clothes tattered; but not even one, however, from combat.

"How many times do I have to remind you to stop kicking the door, you moron!" from behind the counter, the old gaunt Guild proprietor bellowed. "You have any idea how much you cost me by damaging the hinges? This time I'll take it out on your rewards!"

The man paid no heed. Instead, he carried his satchel over the counter and poured out a heap of blue glowing crystals the size of small coins.

"Bossman, don't be like that~" he mockingly remarked. "Arcanacyte crystals, all 20 pieces straight from the dungeons. I believe that's 2000 silver correct?"

After breathing a loud huff, the proprietor carefully took a crystal by hand and after a brief moment, a spark arced from its tip and struck his forearm. He observed it further before tossing it back to the heap, breaking the arc connected to him.

"Stings like a sparkfly. Yes, those are indeed Arcanacytes," he said. " I expect nothing less from a thief. I'm not even going to ask what kind of hellhole you dig these up from Thomas,"

Thomas grinned and held out a piece of paper and gave it to the proprietor.

"2000 silver. You want that as change or converted to gold?"

"Gold please,"

While the guild proprietor processes the transaction, Thomas marched over to the quest board, which hangs precautiously on the stone wall. The guild is quiet today. On a table beside a window, there was another person covered head to toe in cheap armor, counting silver coins from a small sack in his possession. Every clink of two coins hitting against each other echoing across the hall. What looks like broken pieces of furniture were stacked haphazardly in the corner, kept in place by a thin rope. Besides the three people mentioned, there was nobody else in the guild.

The Quest Board, which used to be filled with requests calling for the slaying of epic monsters threatening the nearby ecosystem or for an escort convoy for a merchant traveling between towns, now just a moldy board with one or two quest forms added every now and then. The quests were nothing too special either. They were mostly small gathering requests from the nearby villagers who were too busy to go out into the woods. If they are lucky, they might come across an extermination request for a local pest infestation. Still, Thomas took his time reading through each tedious request as if they were urgent missions that had been famous back in the Guild's glory days.

Seeing as how Thomas was glued to the board, the proprietor momentarily stopped his work.

"Don't you think it's about time you look for another livelihood?" he asked.

Thomas remained silent but was seemingly detached.

"I'll be honest with you kid. The guild is shutting down in a few weeks." His voice was waning. "The profession isn't what it used to be. There aren't that many threats from monsters anymore and the Kingdom is finding more effective ways to deal with bandits. When are you going to accept that?"

The other adventurer also stopped counting to listen.

"Nobody needs Adventurers anymore Thomas. Not since the allied kingdoms won the war,"

After a long pause, the proprietor, along with the other adventurer, went back to their work. Thomas, however, seemed to have found something that made his eyes widen. He quickly snatched a piece of paper off the board and approached the counter.

"Suspected Rabid Jackals sighting on the forest Gribb," he happily read the title of the quest aloud. "Guess that means today's different, doesn't it?"

"'Suspected', Thomas. Just a suspected sighting. If there really was one, the duke would've immediately sent cavalry to slay it,"

"But there's a chance," Thomas insisted. "I'll take the job,"

The proprietor shrugged and with a defeated sigh, he said: "And it's yours. But honestly, you'd find more excitement working as a plumber these days you twit,"

Thomas was then handed a small sack of gold coins that he effortlessly slid into his satchel. It had always been fascinating how the old dusty bag can fit seemingly endless amounts of items, but today the proprietor didn't seem the least bit concerned about it. With his quest form signed, Thomas excitedly ventured out, but not before being scolded once more for kicking the door open.

---

Normally, Thomas would go directly to the town outskirts so he can finish his quest in time for dinner. But today was Tuesday and on this day a local bakery would sell special rye bread. Though the food is a staple among the commoners, this rye bread is infused with a magical herb that adjusts the taste of each bite according to the preference of its lucky consumer.

"Thank you for your patronage!" The lively young girl greeted.

Of course, there would be no greater place to indulge in such masterful baking than by the bridge just outside the town entrance outpost. There he sat atop the calm stream to enjoy his meal. The water on the river was clear enough that one could perfectly see their reflection.

The past four years had been rough on Thomas, but not in a way he initially thought. He reminisced the day he first arrived in this other world, waking up on top of one of the hills surrounding Farrafut. His coarse and gawky appearance is nothing like the handsome devil he once was. The equipment he wore that day not too different from what he wore today. Breadcrumbs stick to his unshaven chin, as he furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance. Occasionally, even someone as levelheaded as he gets overwhelmed.

"DAMN THAT LYING SELF-PROCLAIMED GODDESS!"

His loud pathetic cries were enough to disturb the peaceful landscape.

The Demon Lord is dead. Thomas came to the harsh realization not long after his first few quests as a newly employed adventurer. The land of Engkt has never been so peaceful, and because of that the need for a Guild diminished over time.

"Redemptions my ass! This place has been nothing but disappointments since day one! It reeks, there's no electricity, half the houses don't even have proper indoor plumbing, and there's barely anything remotely interesting to do!"

"Umm... Thomas?" a voice came from behind him. He turned around and standing warily a short distance was the other adventurer from earlier. "Sorry for interrupting...err...whatever you were doing. But do you have a minute?"

The adventurer, known as Dale, handed him a letter. Thomas could see that it was enclosed in an expensive envelope, probably from the nobility. The sealing wax is pressed with a familiar insignia. It came from Jylle Palace.

"It was delivered to me just this morning. They say they couldn't reach you so they gave me yours as well," Dale said.

"Let me guess...another offer?"

"The salary they are proposing is much better than last time. Housing and equipment are covered,"

"So that's where the other adventurers went,"

"It's getting harder and harder to make ends meet nowadays for many. Me? I'm just happy to be able to eat three meals a day and have a roof over my head."

Xeraphi, one of the allied kingdoms responsible for the defeat of the Demon Lord, has always been interested in hiring displaced adventurers among its military ranks. Adventurers are known for their lay of the land and sheer combat experience that rival even those of elite ranks. And because Farrafut of the Jylle province is known to be the birthplace of a number of skilled adventurers, it was akin to a goldmine for the military.

"They seem to be particularly interested in you Thomas. Isn't that the second letter this month already?"

Thomas opened the letter and skimmed through the lengthy text. As he had predicted, it was nearly identical to the ones he had received before. The only noticeable change is the salary proposal that was written in bold to attract the attention of the reader. After a moment of thought, he tore the paper in half and handed it back.

"Tell them I'm not interested,"

"Ha, I knew you'd say that! Adventurer for life!" Dale laughed and attempted to rip his own letter when Thomas suddenly stops him.

"That's not what I meant Dale. I think you should take this one," Thomas gave a pat to the surprised iron-clad adventurer's pauldron. "Listen, buddy, this deal doesn't look half bad. It's more than enough for a guy like you to live a good life,"

"But what about you? Why don't you wanna take it?"

"They need soldiers like you, that much is obvious. But the only reason why they'd hire a thief like me is that they're looking for someone to do some dirty business for them. Personally, I'd much rather stay in this dead-end job than get myself killed again for a quick buck,"

"I'm not entirely sure I follow that last part, but I think I see what you mean though..."

Beyond the hulking armor, Thomas could sense that the man was disheartened. Dale had been an adventurer longer than he was after all. They both held their own when their profession slowly faded, but Thomas knew it was unwise for them to continue. In an effort to console the fellow, he handed him a piece of his rye bread before the two parted ways in a wordless farewell.

Having finished his snack and his ranting, Thomas decides to finally go to Gribb forest, a short journey from the outskirts of Farrafut. The quest requires him to investigate a Rabid Jackal sighting. These large wolf-like monsters used to be large threats to wandering merchants and rural communities. But just like other monsters, their numbers are quickly dwindling as the years go by to the point that it is very rare to see them near settlements nowadays. That must have been why the cavalry didn't bother looking into it themselves. All he needs to do is to confirm if the threat exists or not. But should it does, Thomas was confident enough with his equipment given that it does not come in a pack; that in itself is already highly unlikely.

"What the...?"

Or perhaps it isn't.