"Dad, are you going out to work?"
"Yes, Tessa. Be good at home—don't give your mother any trouble."
"Will there be fruit candy today?"
"If you behave."
In front of an old apartment building stained with rain streaks and grime, Martin was saying goodbye to his six-year-old daughter, Tessa.
Seeing the bright, hopeful look on her face, a pang of guilt rose in his chest.
Before, the family's income was only barely enough to keep them fed and sheltered in Falrim's slums. Candy, under those circumstances, was a luxury.
In fact, since she was born, aside from holidays, his daughter had hardly gotten to eat sweets at all.
Even though this was exactly the age when kids craved them…
He placed Tessa's hand in his wife's, waved, and headed down the alley toward the main road.
Falrim's spring still hadn't fully warmed up.
He hunched his neck and breathed into his hands.
"Everything will get better…"
Martin had only recently switched jobs, and he was genuinely satisfied.
Compared to his previous job—about 25 copper a day—his new pay had gone up to 35 copper. If he worked late, it could hit 40 copper, sometimes even more.
In a remote town, that would practically count as high pay.
Unfortunately, Falrim's cost of living was brutal. He was still at the bottom.
But Martin was content.
At least now, after rent, food, coal, and other necessities, he could slowly put money aside. The pressure wasn't crushing him like before.
That was why, last night, when he passed a shop on his way home, he'd bought a little candy for his daughter.
When he passed Featherquill Avenue, he saw the shop where he used to work. There was a young man inside now—probably the one who'd taken over his position.
The young man was unloading goods from a wagon and stocking the shelves by category.
Martin looked away and kept walking.
Without realizing it, he started humming a light little tune. His step felt easier, and he felt even more satisfied with his new job.
The work was tougher—more rules, stricter management, fewer breaks—but the pay was much better.
And it wasn't just the wage difference. The canteen meals included every day saved him a lot of food money too—no need to buy extra bread and such.
Turning a corner, Martin arrived in front of a newly built, manor-like complex.
It had taken him an hour to get here from home.
At the grand gate, with two fierce red-dragon statues on the archway, he instinctively straightened his back and adjusted his washed-faded old coat, trying to look as presentable as possible.
"Morning, Martin." A chubby coworker, Glenn, was already there, rubbing his hands as he greeted him.
"Morning, Glenn. Cold one today."
To enter Red Dragon Manor, they had to go through an inspection to confirm they weren't carrying prohibited items.
Martin spread his arms and cooperated.
While he did, his eyes drifted to a black crow perched in the branches of a silver-leaf plane tree, staring at them with bright, watchful eyes.
They said these little birds, everywhere in the manor, were the owner's eyes.
Martin reminded himself—again and again—not to even think about doing anything crooked.
He didn't want to end up like those greedy coworkers who'd lost this job.
After passing inspection, he stepped onto the inner road. The stone paving was so white it almost glowed.
He took a deep breath.
Maybe it was his imagination, but the air inside the manor felt cleaner than outside—and not as cold.
He slipped off his coat and draped it over his arm.
He followed the main path toward the work area at the far end.
As he passed one stretch of road, a thunderous snoring came from the right.
His eyes flicked toward the plane-tree grove. He couldn't see anything through the trees, but he knew there was a beast sleeping in there the size of a hill—the very reason this place had its name.
Even from far away, with the trees blocking it, Martin still felt his heart squeeze. He didn't dare look again and quickly turned his gaze away.
Before entering the workshop, the workers underwent a second, more thorough check.
Today, it seemed, an important figure had come.
Martin stole a glance toward one side of the shop floor. Ivan—the big shot who managed them—was accompanying an exceptionally handsome young man in a white robe. He looked like he was glowing.
Almost everyone who entered the workshop noticed him immediately.
"…Who's that?"
"Shh. Put your hand down."
"That big shot is our boss's boss—the owner of this manor, the captain of Red Dragon Company. Captain Gauss."
Hearing his coworkers whisper, Martin understood at once.
While he was sneaking a look, the captain's eyes happened to turn his way.
Martin's whole body tightened. His breathing stalled for half a second.
But the next moment, the captain looked away.
And Martin swore he'd even smiled at him.
For some reason, Martin's nerves instantly settled.
He felt… like this high-and-mighty captain was actually pretty approachable.
Among employees, there were endless rumors about the manor's owner.
Some claimed he was a direct descendant of Falrim nobility. Others said that after slaughtering so many monsters lately, he had to be hot-tempered and ruthless.
But whatever the guess, one thing was universally agreed: he was extremely important, and ordinary workers had to be careful. Offend him and you'd be dead.
Yet after seeing that gentle smile, Martin felt certain most of those rumors were nonsense.
He went to his station and started working—suddenly full of drive.
On the other side, Gauss listened to Ivan's report while watching the whole busy workshop.
"Handle it however you think is best. I trust you."
Aside from secretly observing during recruitment, he hadn't really micromanaged.
One reason was time. Another was trust in Ivan.
So far, Ivan was doing an excellent job—nothing to criticize.
Everyone had their specialty.
Gauss's job was to kill monsters.
He'd been out for two days and cleared dozens of small commissions. All told, the profit would probably hit about two hundred gold.
This run wasn't just about refilling the coffers—it was also about getting the whole Red Dragon Company machine running properly.
If the hired workers had work, and he could make money, then the base could keep being improved.
"Thank you for trusting me, Captain. About the shop-opening plan you mentioned yesterday—I've already had someone start scouting."
"Good work."
Gauss hadn't expected him to move so fast.
They'd only decided yesterday evening, and by this morning it was already in motion.
After walking a full lap around the manor, Gauss was very satisfied with how things were going.
"Alright, I won't get in your way."
He'd noticed that when he was around, people inevitably watched him—some distracted, some stiff.
He looked at the hardworking employees and quietly said something to Ivan.
Ivan turned to the crowd and announced, "Captain says everyone's been working hard. Tonight the canteen has a roasted-meat feast—and everyone can take home two extra portions for their family."
The workshop went quiet for a beat, then erupted.
"Long live the Captain!"
"Long live the Captain!"
Ivan glanced toward the middle-aged man who'd shouted first, then saw the faint smile on Gauss's face, and nodded to himself.
Not bad…
Since he couldn't stand here watching all day, maybe it was time to promote a small supervisor.
"Alright, back to work."
Gauss smiled and waved.
As he left the workshop, he was about to go check what Albena was doing at the forge—
when he spotted Alia crouched on the ground in the distance.
"What are you doing?"
Gauss walked over and crouched too.
"I'm breeding a new kind of magical plant."
"Something you'll transplant into your dream garden?"
"No, no." Alia shook her head, signaling he'd guessed wrong.
"I want to breed a guard plant for the manor."
Eventually she wanted to plant a ring of it around the fence, so if any petty thieves showed up, they'd be caught immediately.
"That won't be easy, will it?"
Gauss knew how hard it was to breed magical plants by hand—especially one with attack power and awareness.
That first magic olive tree Alia had moved into her dream had been a lucky breakthrough, and even then it was only one plant.
Not every plant with a trace of mana counted as a true magic plant. The mana density had to be high and stable.
Most medicinal herbs didn't meet that bar.
"I want to try."
"I've got some inspiration."
Alia held out her hand, letting moonlight pool in her palm.
"Then go for it."
Gauss couldn't offer much practical help here, so he could only encourage her.
This kind of research wasn't wasted time—and it helped Alia level up too.
Ever since she changed from druid to Lunar Aspect Walker, her growth had sped up noticeably.
She was about to go from Level 4 to Level 5 already.
So this really was what it meant to have a god's favor?
Of course, being on his team helped too.
Still—he wasn't exactly slow either.
He felt the mana-cup core inside him, active again, nearing another peak.
That meant leveling from 6 to 7 was already within reach.
Even though it hadn't been that long since he hit 6—maybe two or three months.
For other talented adventurers, it would've been two years, minimum.
But the Grayrock defense battle had dumped an absurd amount of experience on him, and recently he'd killed several thousand more monsters. After his divinity factor passed 1%, his leveling speed accelerated again.
All together, that was why his progress was exploding.
Still—steady growth.
Gauss took a deep breath.
If he pushed south, crossed the kingdom border, and went deep into the monster nation, he could level even faster.
But he hadn't done it.
Enemy territory was a different kind of danger.
In Grayrock's defense, even if the walls fell, he had mobility and a red dragon mount—he could carry his friends and family away.
But in monster lands, he'd be surrounded with nowhere to retreat and no reinforcements.
And if something truly powerful marked him, he'd be staring down death.
He didn't need to challenge the limit.
Every "ordinary" small monster he killed still pushed him upward.
Compared to most adventurers, he was already extraordinarily lucky.
He continued his patrol around the manor.
Everyone had their own tasks.
Albena was forging the daily-wear light armor for him and training apprentices.
Serandur was discussing alchemy techniques with Ivan.
Shadow was nowhere to be seen, but Gauss knew she was probably out in the city "doing justice."
When she was idle, that was what she did.
Wherever she operated, the neighborhood's safety tended to improve.
"Two days of rest, then we start the next round of commissions."
Gauss planned silently.
Even though their loot from this run would keep Red Dragon Company busy for a while, to keep the machine running they needed a constant flow of spoils.
Next time, he didn't want to spam low-level commissions.
He wanted to filter for a bigger monster nest nearby.
Same number of monsters—dozens of tiny nests usually paid less than one large nest.
Ideally: a nest leader not too strong—one commander-class was fine—and a total population of one to two thousand.
For him now, that scale was safe and profitable, plus it would yield precious commander points.
But within human territory, even in remote wastelands, nests of that size weren't common.
Most likely, it would be goblins again—like the nest where they rescued Torga.
No mystery there.
Goblins were the most widespread monsters infiltrating human lands, and they reproduced easily.
Only when the wild monster "base population" was huge could you get truly large nests.
So in human territory, nine out of ten large nests being goblins wasn't an exaggeration.
Gauss was perfectly fine with that.
That was exactly why he'd chosen goblins as his main extermination track.
Killing goblins paid best—and it was easy.
He had a strong feeling that after his title rose from Goblin Butcher to Goblin Expert, those effects would jump dramatically.
Just the numbers told the story: bonus damage went from 30% to 40%.
Bloodthirst recovery went from 3% stamina to 5%.
Meaning he could kill goblins cheaper and recover more stamina.
Up and down together, it meant that against large goblin hordes he could effectively reach zero-cost killing—
kill more, recover more; recover more, kill even more—an actual goblin-killing perpetual engine.
Even in his current state, he was already goblins' absolute nemesis.
And he was still evolving.
If this world only had goblins as monsters, he didn't even want to imagine how terrifying he'd become.
Maybe… that was nature's balance?
He lifted his gaze to the sky.
For this world, did the goblin plague need a killer to correct it?