Chapter 40: Hopeless efforts to find a guilds

The fifth guild thought he was lying.

The sixth thought he was making some kind of joke.

The seventh recruiter seemed personally offended that Frost had wasted several minutes of his life before mentioning the tiny little detail that he couldn’t use Runes.

At the eighth guild, Frost spent nearly ten minutes arguing with a woman who refused to believe that having no affinity was even possible.

"Every Evolver has an affinity."

"Yes, I’ve heard."

"Then you have one."

"I don’t."

"You must."

"Well, I fucking don’t."

"Then you weren’t assessed correctly."

"I was assessed three times."

"Then the machine was faulty."

"It worked perfectly fine for everyone else."

The woman stared at him, and Frost stared back, and neither seemed willing to surrender. Eventually, the woman pointed toward the door.

Frost sighed.

"Yeah, I figured."

The ninth guild actually made him take another affinity assessment.

Frost had hoped, perhaps rather foolishly, that something might have changed since Harod’s test.

Nothing had changed.

The machine scanned him once and showed the same result he had seen many times already.

The recruiter frowned and restarted it.

He called another employee over, and they ran it a third time.

Still nothing.

The two men then spent several minutes whispering to one another while occasionally glancing in Frost’s direction as though he’d somehow personally offended the machine.

Frost stood there awkwardly with his hands in his pockets.

Eventually, one of them approached.

"We won’t be able to accept you."

Frost nodded.

"Can’t say I’m surprised." By the time he reached the tenth guild, he was beginning to recognise the pattern.

"Talent?"

"Five-Star."

"Affinity?"

"None."

"No."

Frost hadn’t even crossed the threshold. The next few weren’t much better.

Five-Star got him through the door.

No affinity got him thrown straight back out.

Five-Star earned him a smile.

No affinity made that smile disappear.

Five-Star made them interested enough to ask his name.

No affinity made them forget it immediately.

By the fifteenth guild, Frost had grown tired of repeating himself.

He walked up to the receptionist, placed both hands on the counter, and spoke before she could even greet him.

"Frost Carter, nineteen years old, Earthling, recently awakened, Five-Star talent, physically healthy, and I possess absolutely no detectable Rune affinity whatsoever. Are you interested, or should I save us both some time and leave?"

The receptionist stared at him.

"...What?"

Frost sighed.

"That’s fair."

He left before she could recover. At some point, Frost tried a different strategy.

He simply didn’t mention the affinity.

That turned out to be a mistake.

The guild welcomed him inside, gave him something to eat, and spent almost an hour showing him around the building.

Frost saw their training rooms, dormitories, equipment storage areas, and even a large hall where several young Evolvers were practising with weapons under the supervision of an instructor.

For the first time that day, Frost actually began to feel hopeful.

The recruiter explained their beginner programme, how new Evolvers would spend their first few weeks learning basic combat skills before gradually being introduced to the hunting grounds, and how promising recruits could eventually receive assistance acquiring their first Rune Tome.

Frost listened to every word.

’This is it.’

He could almost see himself training there already.

Eventually, they returned to the recruiter’s office.

"Everything seems to be in order," the man said, smiling as he brought up Frost’s application. "We simply need to record your Rune affinities before we proceed."

Frost’s smile froze.

"Ah."

The recruiter looked up.

"Yes?"

Frost scratched his cheek.

"So... funny story."

Ten minutes later, he was standing outside again.

Frost looked back at the building.

"FUCK!"

Several pedestrians immediately turned toward him.

Frost lowered his voice.

"Fuck..."

That one had hurt. He’d already started imagining himself sleeping in the fucking dormitory.

By midday, Frost had visited more than twenty guilds.

By early afternoon, he’d passed thirty.

After that, he stopped counting.

Every attempt seemed to follow the same cruel little routine. He would walk inside, mention his Five-Star talent, watch the recruiter become interested, and then witness that interest die the moment he mentioned that he didn’t possess an affinity.

Eventually, it stopped being embarrassing and simply became exhausting.

One guild actually seemed willing to consider him despite everything.

The recruiter was a short but incredibly muscular woman with two dark horns curving backward from her forehead. Unlike everyone else, she didn’t immediately dismiss him when he explained his situation.

The woman rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

Frost leaned forward slightly expectantly, and for the first time in hours, hope returned.

She looked him up and down as Frost waited, puffing his chest up to make himself look bigger.

Perhaps she knew something the others didn’t. Perhaps this guild trained Evolvers differently. Perhaps...

"You could work as a porter."

Frost blinked.

"A what?"

"A porter."

"I know what a porter is. I’m asking why."

"You’re young, healthy, and your Five-Star talent should still give you decent physical growth if you hunt regularly. You could carry equipment and harvested materials for our parties."

Frost stared at her.

"Would I receive Evolver training?"

"No. You would carry the equipment."

Frost remained silent for several seconds before slowly standing.

"Thank you very much for your time."

"You aren’t interested?"

"I’ll think about it."

He would not think about it.

Well... Maybe a little.

No.

Absolutely not.

He still had dignity.

Admittedly, after spending the entire day being thrown out of guild buildings, there wasn’t much of it left, but there was enough.

By the time the sun began descending toward the horizon, Frost had lost count of how many guilds he’d visited.

Forty?

Fifty?

He honestly didn’t know anymore.

His feet hurt, his stomach was empty, and the enthusiasm he’d carried into the city that morning had been thoroughly beaten out of him.

Not one guild had accepted him.

Not a single fucking one.

Frost trudged through the lower city with his hands buried inside his pockets, eventually crossing the invisible boundary where the relatively clean streets gradually gave way to the cramped buildings, dirt, rusted metal, and unpleasant smells of the slums.

"Bastards..." He kicked a small stone along the road. "Every single fucking one of them."

The stone bounced ahead.

Frost caught up and kicked it again.

"Five-Star this, Five-Star that..."

He straightened his back and put on an exaggeratedly welcoming expression, imitating one of the recruiters he’d met earlier.

"Oh, Five-Star? How wonderful! Such a promising young talent. Please, come inside. Sit down. Would you like some water? Some food? Perhaps I should massage your fucking feet while I’m at it?"

A woman walking nearby glanced at him strangely, but Frost didn’t care.

He immediately changed his voice.

"And what might your affinity be, young man?"

"None."

He widened his eyes dramatically.

"None!? Get the fuck out of my building!"

Frost threw his hands into the air.

"Every fucking time!"

A few people turned toward him, and once again, he ignored them.

At this point, the entire situation had gone beyond humiliating and wrapped back around into being funny.

"One bastard even took my tea."

A man sitting beside a nearby shack looked up. Frost pointed at him as though the stranger had asked.

"I wasn’t finished."

The man blinked.

"They gave it to me, let me drink half of it, then took it back when I said I didn’t have an affinity."

The stranger continued staring as Frost shook his head.

"That one was personal."

He kept walking.

Maybe he should have taken the porter job.

At least that would have gotten him close to the hunting grounds.

Frost seriously considered it for several seconds before imagining himself following a party around carrying everyone’s bags while they killed monsters and grew stronger.

His expression darkened.

"No."

He wasn’t that desperate.

Yet.

Give it a few days.

Frost sighed as he continued deeper into the slums, his shoulders sagging from exhaustion.

"So much for investing in potential..."

Apparently, potential only mattered when there was actually something useful to do with it.

His Five-Star talent sounded respectable until people discovered he couldn’t use Runes, at which point it became about as valuable as owning a powerful vehicle without an engine.

Or perhaps an engine without fuel. Either way, the fucking thing wasn’t moving.

And after spending an entire day walking across the lower city, Frost had successfully learned that absolutely nobody seemed stupid enough to invest resources into him.

"Fine..." Frost ran a tired hand through his hair. "Fuck guilds."

A large furry rat-man happened to be walking past him at that exact moment and turned his head.

Frost glanced at him.

"Not you." The rat-man stared at him for another moment before continuing on his way.

Frost sighed.

Perhaps he needed sleep.

Lots of it.

Tomorrow, he would figure something else out.

Yesterday, he’d confidently told himself that if the normal path wasn’t available to him, he would simply find another one.

Apparently, the universe had heard that declaration and decided to see how serious he was.

Frost looked toward the distant towers of Linden looming above the slums, their countless lights beginning to illuminate as the sky darkened.

"Alright, you bastard..." he muttered, unsure whether he was speaking to fate, the Evolution System, or the universe itself. "Point taken."

He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and continued trudging toward his room.

Tomorrow, he would try something else.

Preferably something that involved significantly fewer doors being slammed in his face.