Min-Maxing My TRPG Build in Another World: Volume 7 [Parts 1 to 11] by Schuld

Author:Schuld
Language: eng
Format: epub

[Tips] The Adventurer’s Association was founded in the Age of Gods as a joint venture between many competing deities. In the modern day, however, only a vague symbolic solidarity remains.

Pure bedlam—such were the only words I could muster in the face of this unfamiliar hustle and bustle.

People packed the streets, salesmen shouted at their stalls, and eye-catching articles of every sort lined the shops; but that went for Berylin too.

What the capital lacked was the utter frenzy in the air.

It felt like everyone here was desperate, almost. The pace of traffic was rapid, as if those walking by couldn’t spare a second to think about bumping shoulders with oncoming pedestrians; the collisions, in turn, gave rise to all sorts of noisy arguments. Many people were so poorly kept that they would’ve gotten a scolding from the guards had they been in Berylin.

On the other hand, the merchants pushed their products with manic zeal and the townspeople all seemed to be driven by some unyielding purpose. The overwhelming drive that pervaded the streets had our rustic minds spinning. Though I’d been born too late to experience them in my past life, I imagined this had been the same hubbub as the mining towns of the industrial revolution.

“Hold on tight, Margit.”

“As if I would even think of letting go. I’m afraid someone might step on me if I did.”

The hands around my neck were squeezing more than usual. I couldn’t imagine how Margit would fare when she was shorter than a floresiensis. Floresiensis, goblins, and children were deftly swimming through the sea of people, but anyone unaccustomed to the city was sure to get trampled. No wonder Mr. Hansel had told us to stick together as we’d bid him goodbye.

“Um,” I said, “I guess we should start by heading to the stable.”

“That sounds good. It doesn’t seem as if we can get around with these two in tow.”

Being hit with the ordeal of getting around after a smooth entry process was giving me whiplash, but we carried ourselves toward the stable Mr. Hansel had recommended. Every city was home to places to check in horses, but it was hard to gauge how well-kept an establishment was without firsthand experience. Listening to a local’s advice was the best way to find a good one.

Still, I couldn’t get over how night and day the experience was inside and outside the walls. When we’d gotten to the gate, I’d shown the guards a write of identity I’d gotten in Konigstuhl, as well as a Berylinian citizenship slab—which, come to think of it, was valuable in its own right—I’d gotten from Lady Agrippina. That had been it: they’d let us in without any further questions.

I supposed I could understand the lenient security after looking at the chaos within the city. That they let in anyone with an ID and no apparent criminal history must have been what allowed the city to grow. Besides, it saved me the hassle of getting papers-please’d for hours on end, so I was happy to benefit.

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