An Old Veteran Charges into the Labyrinth: The Legendary S-Rank Ogre 作：naow
Welcome to Chapter 2! As a reminder, I am a Japanese author using an AI translation tool, as I cannot read or write English myself.
My dream is to find a writer in the English-speaking community to take over this story from Chapter 4 onward! If you enjoy the dynamic between Kenneth and Mugai, or if you fall in love with this fantasy world-building, please feel free to "adopt" this project. You have my full blessing to take this concept and write the continuation!
Names of upper-rank adventurers—specifically B-Rank and above, and most definitely A-Rank—tend to take on a life of their own.
Some are hailed as heroes in cities they have never even set foot in. That much is harmless enough. Others, however, are spoken of like absolute villains—whispered to have decimated entire towns or driven nations to the brink of ruin.
Rumor had it that Kenneth "The Iron Fist," an A-Rank adventurer, had been banned from the tavern district of a certain city and had fled the country in a fit of despair.
Looking at his cheerful, good-natured, and fiercely generous disposition now, one would find it hard for anyone to believe such tales.
Yet, in his case, the rumors were mostly true.
He had a helpless weakness for alcohol, and he was a notoriously terrible drunk. Worse still, because he was a genuinely skilled adventurer, once he started a drunken rampage, absolutely no one could stop him.
If one were to add a footnote to his rumors, it would only be to clarify that he wasn't just banned from a single city's tavern district—he had been barred from the entire nation.
Nowadays, he reflected deeply on his past actions. At the very least, when others were around, he never touched a drop of alcohol. Of course, this self-restraint was born of past reflection—though, in truth, it was for the simple, pathetic reason that he had already learned his lesson the hard way.
Sitting in the tavern attached to the Adventurers' Guild, Kenneth tilted a mug filled with water, his mind drifting longingly toward the thought of alcohol. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the movement of the Guild's heavy front doors swinging open.
Not particularly motivated today—having spent the afternoon merely browsing the request boards out of sheer boredom—he turned his dull, listless eyes toward the entrance without any real purpose.
*I'm not expecting anything exciting. It's just gonna be another adventurer anyway, right? Even if one of those S-Rank monsters decided to show up, I’d just slip out quietly. Besides, this town isn't well-known enough for them yet.*
Contrary to his expectations, the figure emerging from the entrance was a woman clad in the official uniform of a Guild employee. A staff member entering through the front door was a rare sight. Kenneth continued to watch her aimlessly, taking a sip from his mug to wet his throat.
*Was her name Lana, if I remember right? She looks strangely tense, though...*
He dug through his memory. Among the Guild staff, that woman was supposed to be assigned as a floor guard.
Floor guards didn't handle adventurers at the counters. Instead, their job was to keep a watchful eye over the Guild interior and suppress any hot-blooded fools who tried to start a brawl. To restrain rowdy men who possessed a decent amount of actual strength, a floor guard naturally needed to be formidable themselves. As far as Kenneth knew, Lana possessed combat capabilities that, at a low estimate, ranked around B—and at worst, scaled up to a Rank A adventurer.
And yet, that very staff member had a face completely stiff with tension.
*Well now, I wonder what kind of nightmare trouble she went and dragged in from the streets.*
Driven entirely by spectator curiosity, Kenneth casually decided to sit back and watch. But the moment the next silhouette followed her into the room, his amused smirk froze instantly. He rubbed his eyes, stared again, and this time, a cold shiver ran straight down his spine.
There are some people you can never forget. Some people you must never forget.
Back in the day, Kenneth had repeatedly gotten drunk and gone on rampages. Before he knew it, he was not only banned from towns but wanted by the state, on the verge of losing his qualifications as an adventurer entirely.
In a fit of despair, he had raged without a single thought for the consequences. And then came the man who beat him down ruthlessly—no, utterly annihilated him—and went so far as to tell the knights who arrived to arrest him, "Please handle him gently."
Kenneth had suffered severe injuries that left him unable to move properly for half a year. But thanks to that, he gained a strange amount of sympathy, and his punishment was reduced to simple exile from the country as soon as his wounds healed. He still harbored a complicated mix of gratitude and resentment toward that man—a presence he would prefer to never encounter again for the rest of his days.
A brilliant bald head and white eyebrows. Eyes so narrow they looked like thin, smiling threads, making it impossible to tell if they were even open. And a white beard covering half his face.
Clad in a jet-black kimono that didn't quite match his gentle smile.
Judging by appearances alone, no one would ever guess that this... was the man who had become a living legend.
Shifting his gaze swiftly, Kenneth scanned the surrounding adventurers. The vast majority paid no attention to the grim reaper who had just walked through the door, but a few were casting curious glances at the frail-looking old man.
*Fools... you better not be thinking of picking a fight with him. That old man is bad news. Don't you dare do anything stupid.*
Kenneth felt his heart race with anxiety. Thinking calmly, the old man was being escorted by a Guild staff member—and a highly capable one at that. If anyone dared to mess with him at this timing, they would be slammed into the floor instantly, and that would be the end of it.
The other adventurers seemed to realize this as well, and none made a move to step forward. Even so, Kenneth kept his attention fixed on the surrounding atmosphere while his eyes tracked the old man.
Coming to the Adventurers' Guild meant the man was transferring his base of operations here. The realization made Kenneth hesitate for a fraction of a second, wondering if he should pack up and find a new town.
Yet, his hips wouldn't lift from the chair.
Though Adashino was a newly established town, the nearby Adashino Dungeon was deep and vast. Exploration had barely progressed, which meant it was the perfect labyrinth for making a massive fortune.
He needed to buy alcohol in bulk, take it deep into the mountains where he wouldn't bother a soul, and drink to his heart's content. To do that, he had to earn coins, no matter what. More than anything, the thought of enduring total sobriety during the journey to another location felt completely unbearable.
*The bottom line is, as long as I don't get stupidly drunk in this town and end up needing that old man to "take care" of me, I'll be fine.*
Trying to soothe his own nerves with that thought, he downed the remaining water in his mug.
***
"T-Thank you for waiting, sir. Your base transfer procedure is officially complete."
A stiff voice coupled with a strained smile. Lana's hands trembled as she returned the guild card across the counter.
*Good grief. No matter where I go, once my name gets out, it always ends up like this.*
Stroking his bald head with a smooth sweep of his hand, Mugai let out a quiet sigh.
He had traveled to this remote, newly built town specifically because he loathed being dragged around by high-profile designated requests. Yet, seeing a Guild staff member reduced to this state by a mere glance at his card made him worry that his judgment might have been severely flawed.
Even so, the paperwork was already done, and traveling to yet another town at this point was far too much hassle. Rumors that a labyrinth deemed one of the largest in the kingdom had been discovered on the frontier had already spread, heavily embellished with tall tales. Powerful adventurers would undoubtedly show up in this town sooner or later. Once that happened, an old man like him wouldn't stand out much... or so he had reasoned.
*Still, this is a whole lot better than being pushed around by meaningless requests back in the Royal Capital.*
As the ceiling lights reflected off his bald head, Mugai brushed away his gloomy thoughts.
A frontier, newly rising town. The place was bustling with adventurers burning with ambition. Beside him stood the young floor guard who had escorted him this far. Though not as paralyzed as the counter receptionist, her face remained taut with tension. Judging by her bearing, she seemed to be a decently capable fighter. As long as this girl was hovering around, the young brats who didn't know his face wouldn't recklessly try to pick a fight with him.
*Though, it does make things a bit dull.*
Mugai was well aware of the numerous gazes pinned to his back.
Among adventurers, there were plenty of thugs who believed they could do whatever they pleased to anyone they deemed weaker than themselves. Capable guild staff were stationed precisely to keep those elements in check, and the thugs knew it. Because they knew, no idiot would dare pull anything foolish in front of a floor guard.
Even if some hopeless fool did try, they would be instantly pinned by the staff, stripped of their adventurer license, thrown out into the dirt, and that would be the end of it. Once a cocky sellsword ceased to be an adventurer, their downward spiral was a self-fulfilling prophecy.
They might enjoy doing as they pleased in the dark, but no one wanted their tails caught over something trivial. The rules, admittedly, were highly successful at suppressing petty villains.
But that didn't mean these slightly clever fools would ever truly reform.
...They couldn't commit crimes inside the guild branch or within the town walls, but out there, the dungeon awaited.
"Well now. I appreciate your help. I think I'll go for a light stroll and perhaps earn a bit of pocket change while I am at it."
As Mugai turned, the floor guard's eyes went wide, and she snapped into a rigid, formal posture.
He wished they would just treat him like any ordinary adventurer, but even when he tried to convey that, this was always the result.
"N-No, it is my duty, sir. Please think nothing of it... Pocket change, you say?"