Construction Mage - Chapter 28: Porter Candidate

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“Being a porter is a thankless job. You have to literally carry the burden of the party and receive a smaller cut of the pay in return. However, it is unquestionable that it plays a vital role in any party’s success. It was something most regular folks, who’ve never delved for days at a time, would ever understand. In fact, most of the new Delvers won’t understand it either. It is only when they’ve experienced starvation, harshness of the elements, and severe fatigue while lost behind enemy lines that they will come to understand how important porters are.”

-Lenio Rainmere, the Kingdom of Solkin’s strongest Delver.

***

“That’s old Gergio over there, behind the girl with the spear,” the teenage street kid pointed out through the crowd.

An unremarkable man with salt and pepper hair sat alongside the edge of some low walls, alongside dozens of others, all merrily chatting away while enjoying some games with wooden dice. In a world with little entertainment, you could say social gatherings like these were what helped people pass the day when they weren’t working.

Despite being called old by Malik, Gergio didn’t appear much older than Clay, being in his late thirties, at worst. The man’s figure suggested that he was still fit for the strenuous activity of venturing into dungeons. Nevertheless, there was only so much you could spot from afar while the man was seated.

“What else do you know about him other than he fits my requirements?” Clay asked as he pushed down on Malik’s shoulder, bringing them to a halt. “Any past histories you know of? How did he end up as a porter if he’s so experienced? Any personality problems you know of?”

Clay made it apparent that he had many concerns. Even now, he had butterflies in his stomach as he deliberated about partnering with some stranger whom he knew nothing about.

“Umm, I heard he retired from active combat after he had lost a finger early in his career, back when we barely knew anything about the dungeons. The man lost his family during the initial days of The Descent, so he got reckless.”

“And that hate he has for the monsters is what keeps him tied to the dungeons, even if he’s to do so as a porter?”

“I think so. It’s not that bad of a job. It definitely pays well enough. I would jump at the opportunity to become one myself,” Malik commented as he directed a nervous look at his current employer. It naturally didn’t escape Clay’s notice.

“Sorry, but you don’t know how to detect and disarm traps, right? I’m not exactly the best employer, anyway, since there’s only me. I won’t be able to fully protect you. I need someone more experienced who can take care of themselves.”

“Of course, sir…”

The two then observed for a few more minutes before Clay decided to approach the potential candidate to accompany him into the dungeon.

“Greetings, are you Gergio?”

His question caused the conversation to die down as several faces turned to the speaker.

“Yes, how can I help you?”

“Do you mind if we talk for a bit? I’m looking for a porter to join me.”

The older man raised an eyebrow as he uncomfortably directed his gaze to the ground.

“Erm, sir, I don’t think I’ll be capable of any long-term expeditions into the deeper layers. One of the younger lads would be better suited for that.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I only plan to visit the first layer for now. I heard you were skilled in detecting and disarming traps?”

The man blinked blankly for a split second before swallowing down his confusion.

“I’ve got the basics down, yeah. I picked up the rogue class and the relevant skill. I’m only level nineteen, though. Tier one. Missing a finger on each hand, too, so can’t hold on to any blade properly.”

“Profession classes?”

“Leatherworker and Cook. No recipes. Just took them to gather up materials to sell.”

Clay brought a hand up to his chin as he put on a thoughtful look. His silence made the man being interviewed nervous, but his nearby friends quickly capitalized on that as they began to tease him for selling himself short instead of emphasizing his qualifications during the lull in their conversation. Clay didn’t mind and simply listened in.

Everything seems fine, but maybe too fine. It feels off, like—that’s right! The interviews I’ve done with high schoolers who were spewing well-practiced answers they found online.

Clay’s gaze moved on to Gergio’s friends, noting down their demeanor before finally breaking his silence.

“Thank you for your time. I’ll need some time to think things over.”

Just as he was turning around to return to Malik, who was waiting a short distance away, the man called out after him.

“Before you leave, I wanted to let you know that I’m only looking for ten percent of the spoils, up to a maximum of ten thousand Lyons if we find anything valuable. I don’t need to draw from the group funds for any of my equipment, either.”

Clay simply waved a hand and acknowledged he had heard him as he continued walking away.

“So? What do you think?” Malik immediately pounced with a question as soon as Clay approached. “Do you want to take a look at other candidates? There aren’t that many that fit all your criteria. I only know of one other person, and I’m not sure if he’s still available right now. Been a while since I last saw him.”

“Hmm, my gut feeling says no. His answers sounded rehearsed. He’s probably a good liar, but more importantly, his friend group seems to have a penchant for gambling. Not to mention their dice games. They were joyfully betting on whether I would take him on in the background. It’s likely a regular thing they do.”

“Umm, does that matter? I’m pretty sure a majority of folks around here do that as well.”

“Yes. If he’s a gambler, who knows what he’s willing to do when he’s down on his luck? I’d rather not get betrayed because he needed to pay his debts.”

His reasoning caused the boy to become speechless with his mouth agape. It took him a good ten seconds before he snapped out of it.

“Sir, I think your requirements are too stringent! If you’re really only going to be staying on the first layer, is there really a need for all this? Even I should be able to handle it!”

“That…”

Clay didn’t know how to respond to the sudden outburst. Before being called out, he believed his train of thought was completely logical, but Malik’s words made him question if he was inching too close to a snobby perfectionist. 

It was something he became all too familiar with over the course of his retail job. In fact, it was notoriously a nightmare for sales associates to deal with customers like that. Those types always took forever to make their choices, with half the time deciding not to make a decision at all. Window shopping was fine and all, but when they wasted hours of the staff’s time, it was another matter. Nevertheless, retail workers were forced to endure with a smile on their faces the entire time.

“Okay—maybe I can loosen some of my requirements. They may not need to be the most skilled with traps, but I’ll need them to brave the risks when looting chests and keep an eye out for traps during the other times.”

“Isn’t that the job of a porter in the first place, anyway? I can do that! Won’t you give me a chance?”

Seeing Malik’s determined look, Clay almost budged, but he remained resolute in the end. He couldn’t make a decision that could affect lives on a whim, driven by emotion. Without needing to ask, it was obvious Malik was desperate for the job—desperate for money. Desperation could lead to drastic measures, so Clay couldn’t just say yes, even if he wanted to help the young man.

“Tell me, why do you want to become a porter so badly?”

“I want to become a proper Delver.”

“No. Tell me the underlying reason. Not your goal.”

“I just need a lot of money, okay?”

“Need money for what? For food, for shelter? So you can have a good life?” Clay’s gaze narrowed as he carefully watched the teenager as he replied.

“Yes, for all of those things. It’s the only way for orphans like me to survive!”

Clay slowly nodded three times.

“That is respectable, but I’m sorry. I don’t think you’d be suitable.”

The outright rejection made Malik hang his head as he sighed. He took a deep breath as he came to terms with the answer. An awkward silence befell the two before Clay fetched out a silver coin to hand to the boy.

“It’s getting late. We should end it here today. Grab something good to eat and go home. I’m sure you’ll find better people to party with. I’ve seen quite a few groups made up of young people like you, so just keep trying.”

“I can’t afford any equipment. They won’t accept me as I am,” he weakly muttered.

“Save up. You’ve been doing a great job so far with me. I’ll come find you again to continue our search tomorrow. For now, we both deserve some rest.”

Nodding along, Clay soon guided the distraught boy out of the Delver enclosure as they headed home. Perhaps feeling somewhat guilty for smashing the young man’s hopes, he didn’t depart right away and instead walked him home.

The entire stroll was awkward and quiet as Malik barely spoke back, no matter what he said, only answering with a curt yes or no.

Eventually, they arrived before a rundown house on the outskirts of the third ring. It was practically bordering the walls, but it was quite large. It made Clay wonder why the boy was so desperate for money when his living situation wasn’t entirely that bad. At the very least, Malik’s home was much better than the gloomy makeshift house he recently constructed. With the exception of the washroom, of course.

Once they got closer, Clay discovered why.

In the clearing right beside the house, two dozen children, ranging from a few years old to similar in age to Malik, could be seen frolicking around. The older children were watching over the carefree younger ones. They were all skinny and wore rags that had been patched up several times over.

As dusk approached, a man with an unhealthy skin tone, wearing a monocle, emerged from the house.

“Children, it’s time!” he shouted in a strained manner.

Seeing the scene, the gears within Clay’s mind turned as things slotted into place. What stood before him was an orphanage, and a poor one at that. It perfectly explained Malik’s desperation.

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