“Critically poor.”
“Explain.”
“My inability to keep my big mouth shut cost the team thirty percent of its personnel, including the healer. As such, we engaged in multiple combat situations with crucial absences.”
“You acknowledge responsibility for the altercation with Thadwick Mercer that led him and his team to refuse the contract at the last minute?”
“Yes.”
“Full responsibility?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t lay any of this on Thadwick Mercer?”
“Thadwick is what he is, and doesn't know any better. I do, which made it my responsibility to be the bigger person for the sake of team cohesion. Instead, I chose to be small and petty.”
The woman looked at the other two. The way they conversed with glances alone showed their close working relationship. The woman turned back to Jason.
“How would you rate your performance on this mission otherwise?” she asked.
“Adequate.”
“Explain.”
“We encountered multiple combats and the team handled them effectively. There weren’t any shirkers; everyone did their part, myself included.”
“You argued against eliminating the threat posed by the Ustei tribe.”
“The job was to deliver coins, not get in a fight against unknown odds.”
“Overcoming superior numbers is a specialty of yours, is it not?” she asked. “You are aware of a widely disseminated recording of you in the Geller family’s mirage arena.”
“If you thought that edited recording was a valid basis on which to assess me,” he said, “then you wouldn’t be qualified to assess me at all.”
Again the three of them shared a conversation of glances.
“You were recently assigned a contract to clear out an infestation of rats in Old City,” she said.
“Stone-chewer rats, yes.”
“Your report stated that you killed all the rats.”
“That isn’t accurate,” Jason said.
“Your report wasn’t accurate?”
“No, your characterisation of my report wasn’t accurate,” he said. “My report stated that all the rats were killed, not that they were all killed by me. A number were killed by an additional monster, a rat gorger.”
“But you are certain all the rats were killed?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I have an ability that helps me keep track of certain aspects of my activities.”
“What is the nature of this ability?”
“My own business.”
They locked eyes as he felt her bronze rank aura press down on him. He held her gaze as his own aura was completely suppressed.
“What if I told you that there were still stone-chewer rats being found in Old City?” she asked.
“Two scenarios come to mind as being most likely,” Jason said. “One would be a second rat colony having spawned. The other would be that you’re trying to shake my confidence that the original colony was eliminated fully. Which you have not.”
Jason spotted Vincent nodding to himself.
“You did not request a bonus payment after encountering the rat gorger,” the woman said.
“That’s correct.”
“You haven’t requested a bonus for any of the contracts and adventure board notices you have completed. Several of which would certainly have been approved.”
“I’m not concerned with a few spirit coins here or there,” Jason said. “If I do enough to warrant an awakening stone, I imagine someone will tell me.”
“You’ve been undertaking contracts at a rapid pace,” the woman said. “If not for money, then why?”
“I’ve been told I need to get stronger for what is to come.”
“By Rufus Remore?”
“He has been telling me to get stronger,” Jason said, “but I was actually thinking of someone I met at the temple of Knowledge.”
A powerful aura washed over the room, visibly alarming the panel.
“Name dropper,” a female voice whispered, somehow both quiet enough to feel intimate and loud enough to fill the chamber.
“Do you mind?” Jason asked the empty air. “I’m kind of in the middle of a thing here.”
With a chuckle, the aura vanished. The three panellists stared wide-eyed at Jason.
“Sorry,” he apologised, with a helpless shrug. “She has privacy issues.”
Vincent and the elderly elf turned to the director sitting between them.
“What is your relationship with the goddess of knowledge?” the director asked him, speaking for the first time since he came in.
“The same as my relationship with you, Director. She’s more powerful than I am, we had a nice chat one time and she’s apparently keeping an eye on me.”
“You seem unconcerned about having the attention of a goddess,” the director said.
“You can squash an ant with a boot or by dropping a building on it,” Jason said. “It makes no difference to the ant. Having her attention is no different to having yours.”
“You seem to be taking it calmly.”
“That’s a skill I’ve developed.”
“Taking things calmly?”
“No, seeming to. It’s possible I just peed a little.”
She looked at him incredulously as Vincent hung his head. The director glanced at the other two, the elderly elf gave a firm nod, while Vincent’s was more reluctant.
“Approach the bench, please, Mr Asano,” the director said.
Jason stood up and walked over. The bench was high, so the people behind it could look down on anyone standing before it.
“Badge please,” the director said.
He took his Adventure Society badge in its leather wallet out from his inventory, reaching up to place in on the bench. The director opened the wallet and touched a black stone to it. He couldn't see what was happening, but she shortly handed it back.
“Here you are,” she said, handing back the wallet. He looked down at the badge, where the single star under the adventure society emblem had been joined by a second.
“A second star means you will be held to a higher standard,” the elderly elf said. “Don’t repeat the kind of mistake you made with Thadwick Mercer.”
“Call it a lesson learned,” he said.
“From now on you can take one or two-star missions from the jobs hall,” Vincent told him. “Try not to make an idiot of yourself.”
“I can do my best with the two-star jobs,” Jason said, “but making an idiot of myself is kind of my thing.”
84
Injury & Death
For the first time, Jason walked past the one-star contracts in the jobs hall to the two-star notices further down. It was a much smaller section, and looking further he saw the solitary three-star noticeboard had no jobs at all.
Looking over the notices, most were regular monster hunts with some kind of complication. The most common was a requirement to avoid damaging whatever valuable thing the monster had chosen to nest in.
Jason frowned as he read a certain contract. He took it from the noticeboard and over to the desk manned by an Adventure Society functionary he didn’t recognise. The man looked over the contract, then up at Jason.
“You aren’t allowed to take this contract alone,” the man said. “You need a team; minimum three.”
“I have some people in mind.”
In an Old City alleyway, two women struggled to move. One was unharmed but weighed down by the other, who was heavily injured. Her all-black outfit had long, bloody tears across the arms, legs and torso. The black mask that had originally obscured almost her entire head was ripped, with silver hair spilling out.
The uninjured woman was not strong, but she was determined. With her friend draped over her, she kept moving forward. It was daytime, and the alley was close to the Broadstreet thoroughfare. They could encounter people at any moment.
“We have to stop this,” Belinda said. “It’s a miracle we haven’t been caught already.”
“We keep going,” Sophie said, her voice strained with the pain. “If we can play this out long enough, Ventress will be forced to show her hand. Once she does, that gives us options.”