“A Royal Family Case...”
The elf receptionist gulped, the sound loud in her own ears.
A nominated request from the royal family. Normally, she would have simply processed it as she would any other job. All she had to do was follow the standard procedure.
However, the fact that the nominees were, of all people, the three Spirit-possessed made the difficulty of this task skyrocket.
A Royal Family Request was not something one could simply decline. To refuse, one needed a truly valid reason.
For instance, being seriously injured was generally not considered a sufficient excuse. In such a case, the crown would arrange for a healer themselves just to ensure the adventurer could accept the job. Unless you were saying, “I am currently dead,” or “I have a missing limb that even a healer cannot restore, making movement impossible,” you could not say no.
After all, the client was royalty. They would simply add the extra expenses to the request fee—that was the kind of wealth royalty could mobilize.
Even saying, “I already have another request in progress,” was no excuse. They would arrange for another adventurer to take over that job and provide enough compensation to cover the lost reward. Even if you were in a remote region where communication was impossible, they would hire an adventurer specifically to track you down and deliver the message.
After all, the client was royalty. They would simply add the extra expenses to the request fee—that was the kind of wealth royalty could mobilize.
Naturally, saying, “I have a friend’s wedding,” was out of the question. They would “speak” to every single participant with a polite smile. “Do you mind if we prioritize this? Or are you perhaps more important than the royal family?” Of course, they would arrange a far better venue for the wedding and cover all the costs themselves in exchange, so people usually ended up being quite happy about the intrusion.
After all, the client was royalty. They would simply add the extra expenses to the request fee—that was the kind of wealth royalty could mobilize.
Of course, there were limits. The royalty side would occasionally compromise; they might mention that waiting two or three days was acceptable, or that if the specific nominee refused, they could ask someone else. Such things were usually communicated in advance.
For this specific Royal Family Case, a one-month grace period had been established before the request had to be accepted. Considering the targets were the Spirit-possessed, this was a massive amount of leeway granted with maximum consideration.
And yet...
“It’s not an SP Request, ssu. Pass, ssu,” Pen-pen said flatly.
“Right-o,” Alto added. “Right now, we’re only in the mood for SP Requests-o.”
“...Is that so?” the receptionist replied, her smile straining. “Well then, please let me know whenever the mood strikes you.”
But the Spirit-possessed... yes, the Spirit-possessed would scoff at a request from royalty and simply leave it to rot. When they might feel like doing it depended entirely on their whims.
SP Requests were mysterious jobs that seemed to mingle with the others without warning. Since the documents followed the Adventurer’s Guild request template, she processed them, but they were bizarre things that would vanish into thin air before she knew it. It was true that the girls had been focusing exclusively on those lately.
Ah, if only the royal family had offered SP as a reward, they probably would have taken the job in a heartbeat...
“Well, it looks like a Main Scenario-style request, so maybe we’ll take it if the mood strikes us-dao,” Alto mused.
“This kind of thing usually stays on the board until you accept it, anyway,” another added.
Hearing those words, the elf receptionist suddenly remembered. She recalled the magic words that would pique the interest of the Spirit-possessed. The trump card—a keyword hidden away on page 103 of the manual!
Timidly, wondering if it would actually work, she raised her hand slightly and let the words slip out.
“...U-Um. This one is actually a ‘Limited-time Event,’ so there is a limit to the period during which it can be accepted.”
“Mu!? A limited-time event, ssu!?” Pen-pen’s ears perked up.
“The tides have turned,” the Spirit remarked through his vessel. “Let’s hear the details.”
“That’s true-dao,” Alto agreed. “By the way, how long can we leave it before it’s not okay anymore-dao?”
Th-They actually bit!?
The manual was right! She felt a surge of genuine emotion.
In reality, almost all requests were time-sensitive. Unless it was a Permanent Request or some stale request that had been rotting on the board, someone usually needed something by a specific date. Originally, requests were put out because something was needed by a certain time... so they were all time-limited. For some reason she couldn't fathom, the manual had been absolutely correct.
However, after that, for some reason, they decided that only one of them would head to the Royal Capital. The remaining two stayed behind and began enthusiastically clearing out every ordinary request in the guild.
“Th-That’s fine and all, but won’t you please accept the Royal Family Case together!?” she wanted to scream. However, she was grateful enough that even one of them had accepted, and having the backlog of ordinary requests cleared out was a huge help, so she kept her mouth shut. Well, it was a Royal Family Case, so she really should have said something... but they were aggressively completing jobs that no one else would touch, so...
W-Well, surely, it must be the judgment of the Spirit-possessed that one person was enough. I’ve done everything I can; I’ll just dump the final judgment onto the Guild Master. I’m sure he’ll persuade them if it’s necessary... Ah, please just make sure no damage comes to the town. Seriously. Please don't provoke them. Seriously!
With that, the elf receptionist decided to shove all the responsibility onto the Guild Master.