The Grand Clean-up

With the approval of both the receptionist and the Guild Master, I set to work immediately on the guild's massive overhaul.

"Alright, move it, move it! We’re closed for a temporary hiatus today. If you’re here to report a completion, we'll take it outside!"

While the receptionist busied herself "cleaning out" the rowdy Mercenaries still lingering in the hall, we were given a tour of the facility.

Beyond the Grand Hall where the reception desk sat, there were rooms for the staff, the Guild Master’s private office, a Reference Room, a warehouse, a Dismantling Area, and a kitchen. Further back lay the Break Room and the toilets.

The Guild Master’s quarters and the staff rooms showed some evidence of a half-hearted attempt at tidying, but as for the rest... calling it "filthy" would have been a kindness.

"I know exactly what you’re thinking," the Guild Master said, his voice trailing off as he stared into the distance. "It was even worse when we first arrived. We managed to make it just barely habitable, but..."

He looked like a man haunted by the memory of what he’d found here. It must have been a grueling ordeal.

"I understand," I said. "For now, could you focus on tidying the documents? I assume there’s confidential information involved."

Since this wasn't an area where Mercenaries were usually allowed, documents were piled up in a dangerously haphazard fashion.

"You're right. Elie-kun and I will handle the filing."

I assume Elie is the receptionist?

"That’s for the best. Fritz, once the Mercenaries are cleared out, start hauling the furniture outside."

"Right. Leave the heavy lifting to me."

"Also, we’ll likely need to rebuild some of these pieces. Bring an axe and a saw as well."

"Got it. I'll make sure not to use them on the wrong thing by mistake."

It was a valid concern. The tools we used back home were fitted with Magic Stones and enchanted. Their primary strength was their efficiency—even children could use them to fell trees or cut timber with terrifying ease.

"Hey, what about us? What should we do?"

For some reason, Lark was looking uncharacteristically motivated.

To be honest, I had no idea what to do with him. I barely knew what he was actually capable of. I knew he was a self-proclaimed member of the Single Digits—specifically the Ninth—and an Entertainer who served as the "funny man" of his group, specializing in physical comedy.

"Let’s see... can you keep the Mercenaries in check? Some of them are going to get violent when they realize they can't get inside."

Fritz was relatively mild-mannered, but these were Mercenaries who lived on a knife's edge. Their tempers were short, and their tongues were sharp. I didn't think they'd actually throw a punch, but still.

"If they get rowdy, just distract them with one of your specialty one-liner jokes."

"Wait a minute! Why are you assuming I’m going to do a one-liner?! Do you honestly think I’m capable of something like that?!"

Ah, did I say that out loud? "Well, it’ll be fine if you just get eaten like usual. That should attract plenty of attention, right?"

"You make it sound like I'm constantly being devoured!"

"Ah, right. Ram isn't here today. My mistake. Just... try to think of a new routine."

"Then there is me," the old man added. "If anything, I excel at cutting things."

"In that case, I’ll have Fritz bring some timber later. Can you handle the furniture construction?"

"Consider it done! Leave it to me."

"Hey! If it’s cutting wood, I’m your man!" Lark shouted, desperate to escape his comedy career. "That's way better than a one-liner!"

"Is it?"

I looked at Lark’s somewhat slender frame and tried to imagine him as a woodsman. ...Actually, it might suit him. If he had Ram by his side, he looked like he’d be right at home pioneering some untamed mountain.

"Fair enough. Lark, I’m putting you in charge of the axe... and Ram."

"You got it! Wait—I don’t need that Cotton Candy Devil!"

Lark went sprinting after Fritz, shouting protests.

As for me, I needed to start where the crowds weren't. I turned my attention toward the empty Break Room and the toilets. It was time to begin the real work.

◇　◆　◇

Elu wore a satisfied smile, her fingers brushing the cheap Pair Necklace she had just purchased.

"Where to next?"

"Where do you want to go, Luna-chan?"

"……Over there."

Luna pointed toward a stall selling equipment—weapons and armor intended for the local Mercenaries.

"That makes sense," Fee noted. "Lord Yuri manages a territory now; he’ll need supplies."

"But I’ve rarely seen Lord Yuri actually carry a weapon," Elu remarked.

Yuri tended to handle problems by making efficient use of whatever happened to be within reach.

"If he doesn't have one, then it’s the perfect gift," Luna said firmly. "Lord Yuri is a Mage. We should find him a staff."

The image of Yuri looking pleased with such a gift flashed through Fee's mind. She felt a sharp pang of frustration that Luna had been the one to think of it first.

They marched straight to a weapons shop, where Luna walked up to the clerk without a moment's hesitation.

"I want the highest-performing staff in this shop."

"W-Wait a minute!"

Emilina lunged forward, clapping a hand over Luna’s mouth.

"Hold on! Do you have any idea how much a high-spec staff costs?"

"I have plenty of money. It is not a problem."

Luna had been the third seat of the Single Digits—the Ninth—within the Empire. She was one of the most powerful people in the world. Since she rarely spent a coin on herself, her personal coffers were likely overflowing.

Still...

"If you buy something too expensive, Lord Yuri will just feel burdened by the debt," Emilina warned.

"……Really?"

"Yes, really."

"I understand."

Luna seemed to take the advice to heart. She turned back to the clerk.

"I will pay you the full amount," Luna said. "But you must lower the price tag on the staff so he doesn't know."

Clearly, Luna didn't understand the concept at all.