Chapter 39: Rejection

The next morning, Frost decided to try his luck with the guilds.

It wasn’t exactly an original idea, considering Jennifer and the others had almost certainly done the same thing, but that only gave him more reason to try.

If a guild had been willing to invest enough resources into their group to provide them with weapons, armour, training, and whatever else they needed before entering the hunting grounds, then surely there had to be another guild somewhere in the enormous city willing to take a chance on him.

At least, that was what Frost had convinced himself of before leaving the slums that morning.

He had visited Harod again the previous day, hoping the man might have discovered something useful concerning his rather unique predicament, but unfortunately, the answer had remained the same.

The man had even said there was nothing else he could do for him, saying he was busy tending to other people.

However, he had still suggested that he try approaching some of the lower-ranking guilds in the city.

The more prestigious guilds wouldn’t bother with him. They had plenty of talented young Evolvers fighting for the opportunity to join them, so there was absolutely no reason for them to waste resources on an anomalous Five-Star talent who couldn’t use Runes.

Lower-ranking guilds, however, weren’t afforded the same luxury when choosing their recruits.

They needed manpower, and many of them were willing to gamble on people that larger organisations would normally overlook.

Frost had thought that sounded reasonable.

Four hours later, he was beginning to think Harod had sent him on some elaborate mission to humiliate himself.

His first attempt had actually gone surprisingly well.

The guild occupied a narrow three-storey building squeezed between what appeared to be a weapons shop and a store filled with all manner of random junk, most of which Frost couldn’t even begin to identify.

A large wooden sign hung above the guild entrance, depicting some sort of red four-legged monster roaring toward the sky.

Frost had no idea what it was supposed to be, but it looked impressive enough.

The moment he entered, a broad-shouldered man sitting behind a counter looked up from the translucent screen floating in front of him.

"What business do you have here, young man?" The man eyed him suspiciously, which was reasonable considering the fact that Frost hadn’t bathed since coming to this world, and his clothes were gradually becoming worn and dirtier each day.

"I’d like to apply to join your guild."

"New evolver, I assume?"

"Very new. As a matter of fact, I’m new to not just this city, but this world as a whole."

The man didn’t seem to be interested in where Frost could have come from if he wasn’t from this world at all, perhaps this was nothing new here.

"First things first, what’s your talent? I don’t want to be wasting my time and yours if you don’t meet the bare minimum."

"Five-Star," Frost said casually.

"Oh?"

The man finally gave him a proper look, raising a curious brow, though he didn’t go out of his way to look too excited.

No one with five-star talent would so desperately wander into a low-ranking guild like theirs while dressed so poorly.

Even in these parts, there were classes, and Frost was easily from the low, lower class, just from the sight of him alone, other than the odd style of his dressing, of course.

The dirt did plenty to take away whatever beauty the clothing used to hold.

"Come, sit. We’ll go through some basic information first."

Frost couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on his face as he sat down.

’Well, shit. That was easier than I thought.’

Perhaps he’d been worrying for nothing.

The man pulled another translucent interface into existence and began filling in Frost’s information.

"Give me your name, boy?"

"Frost Carter."

"Age?"

"Nineteen."

"World of origin?"

"Earth."

"One of those otherworlders who have been appearing here without warning, eh?"

"That’s what everyone keeps calling us, but yes..."

"Interesting, I have been seeing more and more of your people as of late."

The man continued entering information before eventually reaching the question Frost had been dreading from the moment he walked through the door.

"And your Rune affinity?"

Frost hesitated for a moment, but he said it in the end, though in a grim voice.

"...None."

The man’s fingers stopped moving as he slowly looked up.

"What?"

"I don’t have one."

"You mean you haven’t been assessed yet?"

"No, I’ve been assessed."

"Then what affinity was identified?"

"None."

The man frowned.

"None what?"

Frost’s eyebrow twitched.

"None. As in, I don’t have an affinity."

"That isn’t possible."

"I’ve been told that several times."

"Everyone has an affinity."

"Apparently not everyone."

The man stared at Frost for several more seconds, perhaps waiting for him to laugh and reveal that the whole thing was some strange Earthling joke.

Frost didn’t.

The man leaned back in his chair.

"No."

Frost blinked.

"No?"

"We’re not interested."

Frost stared at him.

The man pointed toward the entrance.

Five minutes later, Frost was standing outside again, looking at the door that had just been shut in his face.

"...Alright."

He rubbed his chin.

One rejection wasn’t anything worth getting upset about.

Linden was fucking enormous, and Harod had specifically told him that there were hundreds of smaller guilds scattered throughout the lower sections of the city. Expecting the first guild he approached to immediately take him in would have been ridiculously optimistic anyway.

And so, Frost simply went to the next one.

This guild was smaller, occupying the lower floor of a wide stone building several streets away. A middle-aged woman greeted him at the entrance, asked why he was there, and once again showed immediate interest the moment he mentioned his talent.

"Five-Star? That’s quite decent for someone your age. Come inside."

Frost followed her, but they didn’t even make it to the office.

"What affinities were you assessed with?" It was clear enough that she had simply asked the question out of kindness, without meaning any harm.

"None."

The woman stopped walking, and Frost stopped behind her as she slowly turned around.

"What do you mean? You don’t know yet?"

"No, I know. I don’t have an affinity, like at all."

Her welcoming smile disappeared so quickly that Frost almost found it impressive. He was back outside less than a minute later.

The third guild had an elderly receptionist who seemed absolutely delighted when Frost mentioned that he was a Five-Star talent, at least, until Frost mentioned his lack of affinity.

The old man laughed, but his laughter gradually died when he realised Frost was serious.

"Oh."

That was all he said before politely informing Frost that their guild was unfortunately not accepting applicants with his particular circumstances.

The fourth guild was considerably nicer.

They invited him inside, sat him down, and even gave him a warm cup of tea that tasted remarkably good. Frost had barely taken three sips when the recruiter finally asked about his affinity.

"I don’t have one." Once again, he was forced to explain his unfortunate circumstances.

The recruiter stared at Frost as he took another sip. The man quickly reached across the table and gently took the cup out of his hands.

Frost stared at the cup as it disappeared from his grasp.

"Hey, I wasn’t finished with that."

"Thank you for your interest in our guild."

"But the tea..."

"We wish you success elsewhere."

Frost found himself standing outside a few moments later. He stared at the closed door before looking back at his empty hand.

"They took the fucking tea back."

Despite the continuous rejection, Frost refused to give up. There were hundreds of guilds in Linden: Surely one of them had to be desperate.