Gun Girl from Another World

Chapter 22

Guild

I stand in front of a two-story building with a large footprint just off of Dabun's square. It's done in the same style as all of the other businesses in this area of town, but the sign outside declares it to be the Serazin-Dabun branch office of the Independent Exploration Service Guild.

That's right, I've been in this world for a month and a half, and I'm finally getting around to actually joining the Adventurer's Guild.

One more time, more a nervous fidget delaying going in than anything, I open my status window.

NAME: Remmi Lee

RACE: Human (Outsider)

AGE: 15 (24)

LEVEL: 3

CLASS: Gunslinger

HP: 140/140

MP: 120/120

ST: 160/160

STRENGTH: 30

TOUGHNESS: 40

INTELLECT: 120

AGILITY: 80

POINTS: 1,875

TRAITS:

Hero

Gun Nut

I could honestly spend a lot more points, but considering I haven't earned any of them by actually doing hero work, I don't really feel like I deserve the power boost. Besides, I don't really know anything about adventuring in this world, and it would be really weird if a high level warrior walked in acting like a newbie.

After Yorin got done scolding me, she actually asked me if I'd spent any of my ill-gotten points on raising my stats. It felt like a horribly dangerous question, and I timidly insisted that I had only done so because my Strength was too low to actually do the work. I'd raised it no more than was necessary for the task at hand.

She'd insisted on checking, but since at the time, that really was the only change I'd made, she let me off with a lecture involving one of those parables she'd mentioned.

Fortunately, I've never been one to jump for easy power. I'm aware of just how little I know, and I don't want the numbers to go to my head. I have no interest in dying to something stupid just because I thought an arbitrary value was high enough. I'd much rather raise my power in response to need over time and make sure that I'm familiar with what I'm doing.

... Of course, I have a lot more freedom to neglect my stats than anyone normally would have, thanks to the cheat-level power of a firearm. Not to mention my base stats that are absurd on their own. If I assume that all of the other Heroes had stats similar to Leuke, shouldn't I be equivalent to something like a level 15 agility-based warrior?

Ah, again, not enough data points. The only status screens I've seen besides my own are Leuke's and Xuhitana's, and every indication is that they're both practically monsters in their own right. I shouldn't jump to conclusions with them as my only points of comparison.

I consulted with Yorin for a couple hours before heading over here. Really, I was seeking her approval for the stat changes I wanted to make, but she seemed more interested just in making sure that I was actually considering the impact of such things, rather than what I did with them.

Ultimately, I reasoned that I don't like losing a sixth of my health to a rabbit, or being so perpetually close to death in general, so I gave my Toughness the same bonus as my Strength. That made my Agility look too close to them, though, so I gave it the same bump, too.

It actually wasn't until I raised my Agility that my level went up, reinforcing the idea that Gunslinger is definitely an Agility-prioritizing class, as the empress had suspected. Still, with my hit points more than doubled, I feel a lot less like everything I encounter can step on me.

... And with a couple levels, I'm less worried about getting ridiculed or rejected out of hand at the guild.

One other change I made was to check out my class passives, in particular the pistol upgrades. I've been immensely curious how they'd work for such a physical thing ever since I read over them back in the High Temple.

The one I picked for my experiment was the capacity upgrade, as I figured that would be by far the easiest to examine. The result was both fascinating and disappointing.

No visible change occurred with my gun. It looked exactly the same, and the magazine was still flush with the butt of the grip. Yet I knew it now held twenty rounds instead of sixteen. When I took the magazine out, everything looked the same size, but when I counted out the bullets, sure enough, there were twenty, counting the one in the chamber.

While my image of a ridiculously overmodded pistol with full upgrades was beaten back, I was instead shocked to find that all of my other magazines had undergone the same upgrade.

I should ask Yorin if she can find out whether the magazine I gave Xuhitana changed, too.

Well, it's not important right now. I've delayed long enough. It's time.

...

... It still takes a bit of willpower to unstick my feet and get them moving.

The inside of the guild isn't quite what I was expecting. Sure, straight ahead of me is the reception desk, and there's a big map of the empire on one wall ...

... But rather than the smattering of tables for groups waiting to be seen or loitering until teammates arrive, there's an entire restaurant taking up one whole side of the main hall!

On top of that, across the entire building that I can see, every spare wall that doesn't serve a more utilitarian surface has trophies hanging from it. Monster skulls dominate, but many incredibly fancy weapons, presumably ornamental, are visible, too. At regular intervals along the dividing line between the tavern-style eatery and the main business area are plinths dedicated to holding many more, albeit much smaller, artifacts.

The bartender for the restaurant, a woman with such flamboyantly red hair that I can't help but be reminded of Leuke, spots me and shouts across the space, waving her arm over her head to make sure I see her.

"Hoo-ay!" It doesn't translate to anything, apparently, just a celebratory shout. "New girl on deck! You get through admissions, Yellow, and the first drink's on me!"

Unsurprisingly, none of the patrons have any trouble spotting me, presumably there to indulge in breakfast before heading out. They all give the same, "HOO-AY!" in a discordant unison, and my nervousness bumps up another rank.

I put on the best smile I can manage and wave back before heading to the desks.

"Don't let them scare you," a deeply tanned woman with pale hair says before I can even introduce myself. "They're just happy to see a new face."

I can't resist asking. "How can they tell I'm new so easily?"

She puts up a high energy grin. "You mean besides the bright yellow hair and your fancy outfit?" The woman taps a badge pinned to the left side of her chest. It's silver and is the emblem of the guild in miniature. "No badge, and you don't have the look of a courier. Also, you wilt adorably under attention."

I make a point to straighten my posture at that, but she only grins more.

"So, Miss Yellow, are we right, or are you going to disappoint us with a package?"

"Uh, no, I'm definitely here to apply," I confirm, "but I don't know what I need to do to, well ... do that." I do pull out one envelope, though. "All I was told was to give this to the receptionist."

Said receptionist gets a puzzled look as she takes hold of it and pulls out the letter within. "Huh. That's not usually how this goes. Let's see what we've got here."

... I know it's bad when she barely looks at the page before her entire expression pales. She keeps reading, but seems too stunned to keep her thoughts to herself. "Gods ... A throne admission?! They actually exist?!"

Unfortunately, her thoughts don't seem inclined to explain themselves.

"... Excuse me ... what's a throne admission?" I'm pretty sure I can make a really good guess, but ...

She looks at me with a startled expression like she'd momentarily forgotten I was there, and still has to tear her eyes away from the letter a second time before she can focus on me properly.

"A throne admission is an order from the imperial throne, itself. It basically says we have to admit you no matter what, or face the kind of charges that get you a permanent vacation home somewhere dark and drafty." She raises the letter and twists her eyebrows at me in doubt. "You're saying you didn't know you were carrying this?"

I frown as I lean away from the counter to cross my arms. "If I had, I wouldn't have handed it over."

The receptionist gives out a long, low warning whistle and slowly shakes her head. "No, Yellow. Don't you ever even think of pulling a stunt like that. Refusing to turn over imperial documents is a fast way to throw yourself in the deepest of shit. No matter what they're for, that's infinitely worse."

She takes the moment of silence between us to carefully and precisely fold the letter back up, return it to the envelope, and tuck it under a corner of a clipboard on her desk. Only then does she turn back to me.

"... Though I wouldn't mind knowing why someone who wants to become an adventurer doesn't want an imperial recommendation."

I've still got my arms crossed, but my frown has become questioning. "... Is it so hard to believe I'd want to get in on my own merit?"

She laughs at that and taps the envelope sharply. "Oh, Yellow, you don't get one of these without merit. I can't imagine the emperor or empress willingly risking making themselves look bad by giving these to someone that can't back it up."

That's ... a hard argument to counter, but I stand my ground anyway. "I ... I don't want any special treatment I can get out of. I still want to go through the normal application process if at all possible. I want to know I got in because I passed, not because I got tricked into bringing a piece of paper."

That just gets another laugh. "Sure, sure," she agrees, but leans down over the desk as if we're trading secrets. "So what's your deal, then? Foreign royalty looking to prove yourself worthy of a little independence?"

My gaze flattens. "... Please, that's not funny. I'm not royalty, but I'd really rather not answer that line of questioning any further if I don't have to."

The receptionist pouts at my refusal. "Yeah, should've figured. If you don't want a big deal being made over your palatial connections, it only makes sense that you wouldn't want to explain why."

She takes a deep breath to put her professional face back on and pulls out another set of papers. "Alright, then, new applicant! I can get that started for you! We just need to take down a few details first! Let's start with your name!"

"Remmi Lee."

"Spell it for me?"

I do so, and she pauses.

"Yellow, that's another language."

All I can do is shrug. "That's my name."

She sighs and settles for writing it phonetically. "Nothing doing, I guess. I'm telling ya, girl's a foreign freaking princess." That part clearly isn't directed at me, given the low way it's growled. "Age?"

"Fifteen."

"Ooh, a fresh one. Just get your class?"

"A little over a month ago, just before I moved here."

"And what is it?"

"Gunslinger." When she pauses again and arches an eyebrow, I elaborate. "It's an agility-focused mid-range specialist. Like an Iaidoka with a ranged weapon."

"Huh." She starts writing again. "Technically, it doesn't matter what it does, I just need to know what to put on the paper, but the description's appreciated. Never heard that one before."

"It's not from around here."

That gets a scoff. "Of course it's not. So your highest stat is Agility?"

"Intellect, actually."

And another pause. "You said your class is Agility-based."

And another shrug in reply. "It is. My Intellect hasn't gone up since I got the class. It just started higher."

"Of course," she says again with the same sarcasm as the last time, and goes back to writing. "You'll have to let us know when or if that changes. Level?"

"Three."

This time, she slams the quill down on the desk. "Gods damn it, Yellow!"