"Lord Lawrence, what do you think I should do?"
At Jack’s question, a tiny, almost unnoticeable smile twitched at the corner of Lawrence’s mouth.
He cleared his throat softly. "Resources. You’re going to need a massive stockpile of resources if you want to outmatch Phaeld on such a tight timeline."
"Resources?"
Jack’s brow furrowed. For a commoner-born guy like him, that was a massive roadblock. He already had his professional entrance exams to grind for—where was he even supposed to find the time to scrounge up enough training materials? And buying them? He didn
’
t have the deep pockets of those noble brats, that was for sure.
Lawrence spotted the crease in Jack’s forehead, and knew his opening was perfect. He stood, clapped Jack on the shoulder, then laced his hands behind his back and spoke slow and steady.
"Jack, I’ll be straight with you. I genuinely respect what you’ve pulled off. You remind me a hell of a lot of myself when I was your age."
"I appreciate the kind words, Lord Lawrence. I’ve just had a few lucky breaks, that’s all." Jack hurried to deflect the praise, keeping his tone humble.
"Luck or skill? Time will sort that out." Lawrence smiled. "But first, I’ve got an offer for you. Would you be interested… in working under me?"
The words hit Jack like a stun grenade. He froze mid-blink, staring blankly at Lawrence, his brain short-circuiting for a solid ten seconds.
Lawrence had just said… he wanted Jack on his crew?
If he wasn’t 100% sure he was wide awake, he would have sworn he was hallucinating. This was Lawrence, Lord of
Frostveil City, an A-rank professional, personally extending an offer to him. Jack knew damn well if Lawrence ever put out a call for subordinates, half the city would trample each other to death just to get an application in. And he was handing that chance straight to Jack.
For one dizzying second, he almost blurted out yes on the spot. But a flicker of unease crept in right after. Was his luck really this insane?
When he stepped back and looked at the whole picture, everything lined up a little too perfectly. He just so happened to get into a fight with
Phaeld
. Lawrence just so happened to show up right in the middle to mediate. Then he set up a duel in a month, forcing Jack to scramble for a way to power up fast. And now, right on cue, he was offering Jack a spot on his team…
That was a perfectly laid trap. How many people could say no to that?
Jack thought for a beat, then asked carefully, "Lord Lawrence, I’m only a D-rank. Are you sure you want someone as low-tier as me?"
"When I recruit people, I don’t give a damn about their current rank. I care about their potential."
With that, Lawrence laid out all the perks of signing on. He ran an elite, exclusive squad called
Frostblade
, answerable only to him. Not even the king could issue them a direct order and expect compliance. Members got to live their normal lives when there was no work; when Lawrence needed something done, he’d send out missions. Completed missions earned contribution points, which could be traded directly to Lawrence for all kinds of rare treasures and training resources.
"Sounds pretty solid, right?" Lawrence tapped the table lightly, grinning at Jack. He’d been running this system for years. Almost no one turned it down.
"Can I ask what kind of missions you send out?" Jack said.
Lawrence noted the caution in the question, but answered straight, no fluff. "All kinds. Most are things I can’t be bothered to handle personally. But rest easy— I never force anyone to take a mission. You always have the right to say no."
"Got it." Jack nodded seriously. "Give me a little time to think it over."
Lawrence’s smile widened. If Jack was talking like that, he was already 90% on board.
"Oh, and one more thing. You took first place in the Wasteland expedition, so it’s time I hand out your promised reward."
Before Jack could reply, Lawrence snapped his fingers. The wall behind him slid open on a hidden compartment, and Jack’s eyes went wide at what was inside: a staggering, glittering hoard of treasures, most of which he couldn’t even name.
"I’ve collected quite a few odds and ends over the years. If anything catches your eye, pick one." Lawrence leaned back in his chair, looking every bit the generous patron.
"I’ll take that one." Jack’s gaze locked immediately on the golden statue sitting dead center of the display.
*
Ahem.*
Lawrence coughed loudly, his face completely neutral. "You sure that’s the one you want?"
Even if Jack had been the densest guy alive, that reaction said it all. "Uh… then this one?" He pointed at a blood-red gemstone glowing faintly on the next shelf over.
*
Ahem.*
Lawrence coughed again, looking vaguely embarrassed. "That one’s cursed. Bad luck magnet."
Jack stared at Lawrence’s little act, exasperation flooding him. He looked the city lord dead in the eye and said, half-defeated, "Lord Lawrence, just cut to the chase. Which of these am I actually allowed to pick?"
Lawrence laughed. He reached into the far corner of the cabinet and pulled out a dented, unmarked wooden box. "Got something good in here. You feel like gambling?"
"What do you mean?" Jack frowned, confused.
"I won this mystery box at an auction years back. I never opened it, so I don’t have a clue what’s inside. But rumor says… it’s a relic left behind by an S-rank professional."
"An S-rank professional?!" Jack’s heart skipped a beat. S-ranks were the absolute peak of power in this world. A relic from one? It had to be worth a fortune. But if it was that valuable, why hadn’t Lawrence kept it for himself? And why had he never cracked it open all these years?
He didn’t bother holding the questions back. Lawrence went quiet for a second, then sighed. "I didn’t dare take the risk. If I opened it and the thing inside was total garbage, the regret would eat me alive. Might even turn into a mental block that messes with my leveling. Giving it away was the best call for me."
Jack stared at him, speechless. Cool for Lawrence, but what about Jack’s feelings? If he opened it and found nothing but worthless scrap, he’d be the one stuck with the inner demon.
But Lawrence had already laid it out that way, so turning it down now would be straight-up rude. He took the box, and Lawrence nodded in satisfaction. "Jack, if you decide you want to join
Frostblade
, you can reach out to me whenever."
With that final line, Jack left the private chamber. Saria was already waiting for him outside, back in her regular clothes.
"The banquet over already?" Jack asked.
Saria shook her head, her tone flat. "I didn’t feel like sticking around."
"I’m sorry, Saria." Jack stepped closer, his voice low. "I’ll prove to everyone you didn’t make a bad call backing me."
Saria glanced at him, not holding out much hope. Under the unbreakable weight of the Eternal Law, how many commoners ever actually clawed their way up to the top? But if what she’d done today pushed him to grind harder and keep moving forward, that was enough for her.
"Saria, what do you think of Lord Lawrence?" The second they stepped outside the City Lord’s Manor, Jack couldn’t hold the question in anymore.
Saria was quiet for a moment, then answered seriously. "Lawrence is hyper-pragmatic. If he figures out you’re an idiot, he’ll use you up and throw you away without a second thought. But if you prove you’re sharp? He’ll be more than fair about cutting you in on the benefits when you work together."
"Got it." Jack nodded. He didn’t think he was a genius, but he was definitely no fool. From that angle, trying for a spot in
Frostblade didn’t sound like a bad bet.
"It’s getting late. I should head out." Saria gave him a small smile when she saw him lost in thought. She patted his shoulder, her tone playful.
"Wait, that’s it? How am I supposed to find you again—" Jack cut himself off mid-sentence, immediately kicking himself. They’d met by total chance. What was he even talking about, future meetups? He opened his mouth to apologize, but Saria was already speaking.
"When you need me, I’ll be there."
She was gone before he even had time to blink. Jack stared at the empty spot where she’d been standing, shaking his head with a resigned sigh. Everything that had happened today felt like a fever dream, and with Saria leaving, it felt like the dream was finally winding down.
"Though… I guess there’s one last surprise left to open."
His gaze dropped to the mystery box in his hands.