Chapter 70 — Hunger Is Simple

  Mireya processed Ivaline’s testing quest results in silence.

  The rabbit that were brought back for the final evaluation was properly tagged and sent to a nearby diner that maintained a standing request for fresh meat. The medical herbs were cataloged, inspected, and transferred to guild storage, earmarked for the local clinic.

  Everything was done by the book.

  Efficient. Clean. Routine.

  Far too routine, considering who had delivered them.

  Paperwork completed, Mireya released a quiet breath and looked up—

  Just in time to see Ivaline approaching the counter again.

  In her hand was a single request slip.

  Mireya straightened immediately.

  Already?

  Most new adventurers rushed toward their first quest with blind enthusiasm. And most were stopped at the counter, redirected—firmly but kindly—toward something safe. That was part of Mireya’s job. Preventing unnecessary injuries. Preventing deaths.

  She already had a fallback in mind.

  Lost cat. Residential district. No monsters. No risk.

  She was ready.

  Ivaline placed the paper on the counter.

  Mireya read it.

  Her expression froze.

  An orphanage request.

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  Food shortage.

  Recent monster sightings near the domain border had disrupted trade routes. Leakage was suspected—likely influenced by movements tied to the Demon Lord’s forces. Supply caravans had been delayed or rerouted.

  Emergency funding from the governing baron had not arrived.

  In some cases, it had been partially withheld.

  No explanation given.

  No formal denial, either.

  Just… waiting.

  The quest offered below-standard pay. In exchange, it granted additional merit. There was no upper limit on food contribution. The request would remain open until official funding resumed.

  Whenever that happened.

  Mireya looked up slowly.

  “…Why this one?”

  There were easier options. Better-paying ones. With Ivaline’s test results, Mireya could justify approving nearly any Copper-ranked request without resistance.

  Ivaline didn’t fidget. Didn’t hesitate.

  “Hunger,” she said simply. “Bad.”

  That was it.

  Then, after a short pause, she added—tone flat, factual.

  “I tried to go there before. They said they couldn’t take more children.”

  Mireya’s ears twitched.

  “Funds were already short,” Ivaline continued. “Before I met Chronicle. Even then.”

  There was no bitterness in her voice.

  No accusation.

  Just explanation.

  Mireya doesn’t know who is this Chronicle, someone who care for her maybe.

  But that was beside the point. So, she continues to listen.

  “When food is not enough, kids wait,” she said. “Some cry. Some stop asking.”

  Her fingers curled slightly at her side.

  “Outside… sometimes you find more food than inside.”

  Something tightened in Mireya’s chest.

  She understood now.

  This wasn’t charity.

  It wasn’t kindness dressed as heroism.

  It was logistics.

  Ivaline understood hunger the way others understood weather. She knew delays. Knew excuses. Knew what happened when adults argued while children waited quietly in lines that grew shorter.

  The hall felt very still.

  Finally, Mireya nodded.

  “…Quest accepted.”

  She stamped the request and logged Ivaline’s name beneath it. Then—without comment—she issued an auxiliary document.

  A secondary investigation request.

  Audit: Delayed Domain Funding

  Filed under: Irregularities — Pending Verification

  If corruption existed, the guild would uncover it.

  Mireya slid the papers across the counter.

  “You’re cleared to begin immediately,” she said, professionalism fully restored. “Be careful.”

  Ivaline took the documents, bowed lightly, and turned toward the exit.

  As the girl disappeared into the crowd of adventurers and clerks, Mireya leaned back against the counter, tail flicking once.

  She doesn’t choose quests, Mireya realized.

  She chooses problems.

  And somehow—

  That was far more dangerous than ambition.