Helping with Adventurer Party Management - Chapter 328

“For now, we need to deal with Elan quickly!” Sara insists.

Leaving Franz in Kiriku’s capable hands, Sara’s focus on Elan isn’t overprotective—it’s practical. Considering Elan’s circumstances, her concern is well-founded.

Franz, with his sturdy build and proper equipment, can at least defend himself. He is staying at a better inn and likely has connections with his party members. Elan, on the other hand, has neither the skills nor the support to ensure his safety.

“If he left a merchant house, ran out of money, and started hunting slime cores, then he’s probably staying in a terrible place. Staying in a place like that is definitely not good for him,” Sara says.

She is right. People like Elan, earning meager coins by hunting slime cores, represent the lowest rung of adventurers. These individuals have no combat skills to speak of. While their accommodations might be called an inn, in reality, they are little more than dilapidated bunkhouses—makeshift shelters cobbled together from scraps of wood and fabric, often found under bridges.

What would happen if this frail boy returned to such a place with two large copper coins in his possession?

At best, he’d be robbed and beaten. At worst, he could be gravely injured or even killed.

He probably wouldn’t be able to survive even a night.

The only reason Elan has managed to stay safe so far is because he never has anything worth stealing.

But being seen called into the adventurer’s guild reception room would have made him a target.

Illiterate or not, adventurers are frighteningly adept at spreading rumors.

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“This is the merchant’s house where I worked…”

Following Elan’s directions, Sara, Kiriku, and I arrive at a merchant’s establishment in a second-class district. The merchant specializes in oils and fats, a trade vital in this world where monster meat is inedible but their fat is processed into candles and other products.

While the raw fumes from monster fat processing are unpleasant, blending the product with herbs makes it a viable light source for homes of the more affluent citizens.

This particular merchant operates as a wholesaler, collecting blocks of treated fat from craftsmen and distributing them across the city—or so I gather from Elan’s disjointed explanation.

The merchant’s house is a respectable three-story stone building. The first floor serves as a storefront, the second as an office, and the third as living quarters.

While it isn’t as grand as the mansion of Swivel’s father-in-law, it is a sizable property for this district.

Servants bustle about, carrying out their tasks efficiently.

“I’d like to speak with the owner,” I say, addressing one of the workers.

For this visit, I’ve changed into merchant-style attire, and Sara has also dressed in more subdued, elegant clothing. To outsiders, we appear as respectable upper citizens, accompanied by the ruggedly capable-looking Kiriku as our guard.

“I’ll call the owner for you. Please wait here,” the worker replies smoothly, and we are promptly shown inside.

The effort to present ourselves well pays off, and the staff handles our request professionally.

What, I wonder, has dissatisfied Elan so much that he ran away from this merchant house?

Since I intend to take responsibility for him, it is necessary to hear the full story directly from the owner.