Chapter 8: Registering as an Adventurer

When the outline of Ximu Town finally came into view, Shi Hanfeng silently put a cross on the mental side quest of finding original novel characters.

When he learned that the current Chief High Priest of the City of Water was a man, the last possible clue vanished.

Come to think of it, in the original work, none of the characters had names—they were all codenames: Sword Saintess, Little Priestess, Miner Daoist.

Goblin Slayer was already a pretty unique title. If even he couldn’t be found, the others were even less worth mentioning.

He shook his head, tossing out the idea of meeting characters from the original novel.

Better to honestly level up and farm equipment instead of worrying about things that don’t matter.

He then carefully examined Ximu Town in front of him.

How to put it…

It looked like it had just been dragged out of the asset library of some classic western fantasy RPG starter village, full of unadorned, generic template vibes.

Low, squat houses?

Check.

Noisy streets?

Check.

Landmark buildings?

Check.

The “Oak Barrel” inn and tavern, with tempting scents of wheat and roasted meat drifting out.

The blacksmith shop, clanging endlessly, its forge fire painting half the sky red.

The general store, cluttered with jars and bottles and herbs hanging to dry.

“Feels pretty lively.”

Shi Hanfeng observed with interest.

“Mr. Rakshasa, this way.”

Hans’s voice carried the relaxed comfort of returning home as he pointed to a standout building in the town center.

“That’s the Adventurers’ Guild, Ximu Town branch.”

Shi Hanfeng’s gaze swept over the people coming and going at the guild entrance.

There were rookies with simple equipment, suspiciously high-level types in shining armor, and a few ranger-like characters in finely crafted leather armor with sharp eyes…

“Mr. Rakshasa,”

Hans rubbed his hands together, an embarrassed smile on his face like a lackey reporting in.

“This is the guild. The three of us need to go report the mission and let Jemie rest. If you want to register as an Adventurer, just go inside and find the front desk—it’s simple, just fill out a form.”

“Of course,”

Shi Hanfeng gave an understanding smile.

“Please go ahead. Reaching Ximu Town safely was thanks to you three. If there’s ever anything I can do, please let me know.”

For people from another world, he didn’t understand social pleasantries, but for Hans and the others, his words sounded like heaven.

“No, no, Mr. Rakshasa, you’re too polite!”

Hans waved his hands, his face blooming like a chrysanthemum.

“It was nothing. If you ever need money or help with anything in town, come find us. We live at the end of the alley behind the Oak Barrel.”

Gelte and Jemie nodded like pecking chickens, tired of days when mission expenses exceeded earnings.

Watching the three support each other and disappear at the alley entrance, Shi Hanfeng smiled kindly.

“Tool…ah, no, the task of enthusiastic guides is complete.”

He adjusted the high-quality but out-of-place combat uniform on him and pushed open the door of the Adventurers’ Guild, bearing the Shield Badge.

The moment the door opened, a wave of smells assaulted him—cheap ale, fresh sweat, aged leather, metallic rust, and a faint trace of blood.

The accompanying sound wave perfectly defined “the romance of men.”

The hall was spacious, the large stone hearth in the center cold at the moment, but it was easy to imagine people gathered around it boasting at night.

To the left was a row of long counters, where several staff members in blue uniforms busily worked.

On the right, wooden tables and benches were packed with Adventurers of all kinds, most of them gulping down drinks.

The wall opposite the entrance was covered with a densely packed task board, like a giant patch of cowhide lichen.

Shi Hanfeng ignored the sudden, mixed gazes of surprise, curiosity, jealousy, and even ill intent, heading straight for a temporarily idle counter.

Behind the window sat a young girl with brown braids and a slightly chubby face, dressed in a blue guild uniform.

She was bent over a thick ledger, muttering as she wrote.

“…Three boar tusks…weeding quest…Goblin…again, Goblin…”

“Hello.”

Shi Hanfeng tapped the smooth wooden surface with his finger.

“Sorry to bother you.”

“Ah. Hello. How can I help you?”

The Receptionist reflexively looked up, her face instantly blooming with a professional, sweet smile, her voice clear.

Then her smile and voice froze.

Her gaze seemed glued to Shi Hanfeng’s face.

Her emerald eyes, in the dim hall, glowed with a soft filter, so clear they reflected his image. Golden hair shimmered with luxurious brilliance even without sunlight.

That face…that face…

The Receptionist’s mental vocabulary was instantly wiped out, leaving only one thought:

Mom. I’ve seen a living god.

Shi Hanfeng didn’t know what the Receptionist was thinking, but he could guess this face was causing trouble again.

As he took a step forward, he saw her cheeks turn from pale to tomato red, then to the color of a ripe apple.

The feather pen in her hand dropped onto the registry with a splatter of ink.

“Ahem…”

Shi Hanfeng had to clear his throat again, struggling not to laugh.

“I’d like to register as an Adventurer. Could you tell me the procedure?”

“Ah? Ah. Ad…Adventurer?”

The Receptionist seemed jolted by electricity, fumbling for the dropped pen, then knocking over the ink bottle, spreading a dark, ominous stain across the counter.

“S-sorry, sir. Registering as an Adventurer. Right away.”

She frantically grabbed a cloth to save the documents, moving like a malfunctioning robot.

After containing the ink disaster, she took a deep breath and forced herself to look away from the “real-world delusion” in front of her, her voice trembling with a hint of martyrdom.

“Wel…Welcome to the Adventurers’ Guild. Ximu Town branch.”

She straightened her small frame, trying to regain guild dignity.

“The registration process is as follows.”

She began reciting from the training manual.

“First, the Adventurers’ Guild is dedicated to resolving all sorts of requests for the Kingdom and its people, maintaining regional peace…uh…though most of the time it’s clearing clogged sewers or wild boars in the fields…”

She seemed to realize the official wording didn’t match reality and quickly skipped ahead.

“In short, after becoming an Adventurer, you can accept tasks from the board according to your rank. Complete them and earn money. The guild only takes a portion as a mediation fee.”

She sneaked a glance at Shi Hanfeng and, seeing no sign of disdain, breathed a sigh of relief and continued.

“Registration requires entering your information: name, age, place of origin, and your general specialization. For example, warrior, archer, scout, or…”

She carefully glanced at Shi Hanfeng’s elegant, ethereal aura and added softly,

“…mage.”

She felt only that class barely matched that face.

“Rakshasa.”

Shi Hanfeng reported his alias.

“Eighteen years old. Place of origin…City of Water.”

He paused, picking a familiar place name at random.

Seeing the Receptionist’s curious eyes, he added:

“Specialization: Healing.”

“Healing? You’re a Priest?”

The Receptionist’s eyes lit up so brightly she nearly bounced from her chair, drawing the attention of nearby Adventurers.

Not a sister, don’t act like this, you’re scaring me.

Realizing her reaction was excessive, the Receptionist bowed again.

“Sorry, I’ll register you right away.”

She dipped the feather pen in ink.

“Rakshasa…Priest…eighteen years old…”

She muttered as she wrote, her handwriting wobbly with excitement.

“Done.”

The Receptionist put down the pen, opened a drawer, rummaged through clutter, and produced an oval white tag, carving something with a small knife.

The rough material looked like unglazed porcelain, with the guild’s Shield Sword Emblem on the front and his reported alias on the back.

“This is your Adventurer ID.”

The Receptionist handed the tag over with both hands, her face red and a little proud.

“White Porcelain Tag, meaning you’re now a White Porcelain Rank Adventurer, the most basic level. As you complete tasks and accumulate contributions and experience, the guild will periodically evaluate and raise your rank.”

“There are ten levels in total. The higher your rank, the more lucrative the tasks you can take.”

She introduced it enthusiastically, as if she were presenting a treasure.

Shi Hanfeng took the cool, slightly rough-edged tag and examined it.

Mm, it felt cheap, like a roadside souvenir.

But it served its purpose—registering as an Adventurer meant he could access guild information for free and collect extra rewards.

“Thank you, Receptionist.”

Shi Hanfeng slipped the tag into his pocket with a polite smile.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Rakshasa.”

The Receptionist’s face turned even redder, waving her hands.

“Is there anything else you need? Would you like to check today’s requests? Most White Porcelain Rank jobs are errands, weeding, or clearing out Goblin nests…”

Her voice trailed off, as if she felt those tasks didn’t suit such a refined healer.

“Not for now,”

Shi Hanfeng maintained his smile, politely declining.

“I just arrived here and am unfamiliar with the area. I’ll walk around the town and get my bearings. I’ll consider tasks later.”

“Yes, yes. Understanding the area is important.”

The Receptionist nodded rapidly, disappointment flashing in her eyes before being replaced by hope.

“Please explore. If you need anything, come find me anytime. Or, if you’d like, I can show you around after work…”

No need for that.

Bidding farewell to the reluctant Receptionist, Shi Hanfeng turned and walked out of the noisy guild hall.

The moment he stepped outside, his stomach reminded him.

I want to eat~~~rice!!!

Only then did he realize that, aside from his last lunch at the Venus Health Center before being transported, he hadn’t eaten since arriving in this world.

He’d been so preoccupied that he hadn’t noticed, but now, with nothing pressing, hunger pounced like a rabid dog.

Food is the highest priority, even for players.

Shi Hanfeng clutched his rebellious stomach, his gaze sharpening.

Inside the Oak Barrel Inn, a hearty female voice rang out.

“Yo! Handsome young man. New face, eh?”

A burly aunt in a shiny apron—big enough to out-muscle two Hans—strode over, slapping a giant wooden tray on the table.

“What’ll it be? Want to try our Oak Barrel signature? Fresh-baked bread, crispy outside, soft inside, secret recipe meat stew, and if you’re still hungry, grilled venison steak, caught fresh this morning, juicy and guaranteed to satisfy.”

She spoke so fast she nearly sprayed Shi Hanfeng’s face with spittle.

He instinctively leaned back, feeling for the Silver Coin the Goblins had given him.

“One serving of meat stew and bread, please.”

“Alright! Meat stew with bread, coming up!”

Her voice shook the table as she whirled back to the kitchen.

The wait wasn’t long.

Soon, a rough pottery bowl bigger than Shi Hanfeng’s face was set before him, filled with steaming meat stew, tender chunks of unknown meat, golden carrot slices, and powdery potatoes floating in rich brown broth—an appetizing sight.

Beside it sat a loaf of bread, crispy and golden as a small shield, bursting with wheat aroma.

“Enjoy, young man. That’ll be 50 Copper Coins.”

The aunt beamed, as if admiring a work of art.

Shi Hanfeng handed over the gleaming Silver Coin.

“Wow, Silver Coin.”

Her eyes lit up. She took it with a broad hand, then rummaged through the fat leather pouch at her waist.

“Here’s 50 Copper in change. Keep it safe.”

Five Copper Coins with the Crown emblem were neatly stacked on the table.

He took a bite.

Medieval flavor—no modern spices, but decent.

It cost half his net worth, but the portion was worth it.

The joy of carbs and fat instantly soothed his hunger.

Sometimes, happiness really is that simple.

A quick, elegant meal.

Satisfied, he wiped his mouth, surprised he finished it all.

Shi Hanfeng gazed at the pile of golden little coins on the table, lost in thought.

What can you do with 50 Copper?

Recalling lodging prices, he remembered that 50 Copper barely covered a ten-person common room. As for the conditions, he didn’t want to think about it.

Time to make some money.

Selling Healing Service?

The thought flashed and was immediately squashed.

Wish of the White Flower was overwhelming compared to this world’s healing magic—it would cause too much misunderstanding.

Just look at Hans and the others. If not for their own assumptions, he might have had to cast Lost Memory Spell on them.

Without the backing of the Temple, it was safer to use the skill solo or in a party. Drawing attention was a quick way to die.

So, where to find seed money?

Shi Hanfeng’s gaze fell on his left wrist.

He quietly rolled up the sleeve of his combat uniform.

Beneath the wide cuff, a deep brown, frayed and old Leather Bracer hugged his wrist.

Looks like my Merchant identity is about to go live.

The bracer’s bonus was negligible to him, but regardless of its effect, it was a genuine piece of magical equipment—or at least, something with supernatural attributes.

Selling it would provide enough starting funds.