Chapter Seventy-nine: Karen’s Strategy 3
“I live in the adventurer district in the capital. Both my dad and little brother are adventurers.”
Karen stopped using polite speech. She was now speaking casually. This was because the people Karen was addressing were adventurers.
“I haven’t heard from my brother in six months, but I’m sure he’s doing fine. If anything happened to him, I would’ve received word immediately. My father disappeared in a dungeon when I was twelve. Six months later, he was declared dead, and we even held a funeral for him. But you know what? I still believe that he’s continuing his quest deep within the capital’s dungeon.”
This was the kind of fantasy often harbored by families who had lost loved ones to the adventuring life. It was like the fairy tale of Urashima Taro. It’s a story for the ones left behind—a hope that the family member lost at sea is still out there, living happily somewhere, and will someday come back.
“If my father conquers a dungeon, he’ll be a hero. At that moment of conquest, he’ll be the greatest hero in this country—maybe even the world! And I’ll celebrate it. I won’t hold back for anyone’s sake. I’ll boast about it to everyone… I don’t care if the rest of you end up on the streets. I’ll celebrate grandly!”
Karen’s words were the opposite of an apology. Horst smirked, apparently thinking Karen had misspoken. But Karen saw his reaction and grinned. Horst frowned at her response, then checked the expressions of the adventurers and was shocked.
Karen looked down at the adventurers with a beaming smile. The adventurers were smiling back at her in the same way. Some adventurers who were the same age as Karen’s father even had tears in their eyes. Seeing them like that almost made Karen cry too.
The adventurers wanted to believe that someone like Karen was waiting for them too. That belief gave them the determination to return alive no matter how deep in the dungeon’s despair they found themselves, to never give up.
No adventurer would deny the celebration for their achievements upon returning, or the feelings of a child who wanted to celebrate their father. Even if there were some, they would be such a minority that they couldn’t speak up. They would only be looked down upon by their comrades.
“It’ll be a grand celebration, so if anyone loses their job because of it and is struggling, come to my place! I’ll treat you to a meal! I’ll make sure you eat your fill!”
“Don’t forget the booze!”
The same man who had been tearful at Horst’s words earlier chimed in cheerfully.
Karen nodded with a smile.
“I’ll prepare drinks and snacks! If you’re struggling to find work, I’ll help you! If you’re sick, I’ll even nurse you back to health and hand out potions generously! After all, at that point, I’ll be the daughter of the coolest hero in the world! I can’t afford to look stingy or uncool, right?”
“That’s right!”
The logic Horst had presented—and the world of those who had embraced it—was pretty close to the kind of world Karen hoped for. But Karen didn’t want a world where people who accomplished heroic feats had to hold themselves back.
In her previous life, Karen had ruined herself by giving too much to others. This life was the same. But that didn’t mean she had come to dislike doing things for others.
People who helped those in need were cool. If a hero helped someone in need, no one could deny how cool that was. Everyone should respect such heroes and celebrate the great deeds that make them heroes.
That was the kind of world Karen wanted.
“Is there anyone among you who wouldn’t want to buy drinks for everyone after becoming a hero by conquering a dungeon?”
“What kind of stingy person would be called a hero? That’s impossible!”
Some people might think it unfair that a hero who conquered a dungeon would end up getting the short end.
“Is there anyone who would tell a hero who conquered a dungeon not to celebrate but to hold back?”
“I lost my job, but I’d never say that! No way!”
A toothless old man laughed loudly.
Karen understood well that not everyone would sincerely agree. Some people might have swallowed their dissatisfaction. But most of the many adventurers present agreed with Karen’s opinion.
Horst was wide-eyed and about to interject, but Karen didn’t allow it and raised her voice.
“Hey everyone, a hero who conquered a dungeon—they deserve the utmost respect, right?!”
“Yes!”
Some people might be unhappy that Julius had taken the final glory.
But even if it was by chance or pure luck, if Karen’s father conquered the dungeon and made it back to the surface, she wanted to celebrate it with everything she had.
No adventurer would deny Karen this.
Even if there were adventurers with complaints, they wouldn’t speak up. They might nod if Horst spoke for them, but no ordinary adventurer would do something so uncool.
The already loud voices of the adventurers united, causing the chandelier hanging in the entrance hall to vibrate.
Karen’s words were idealistic.
But this way was definitely cooler.
Regardless of true feelings or formal appearances, adventurers loved looking cool.
In this familiar atmosphere, Karen proudly delivered her speech:
“It’s the first New Year’s festival since Master Julius conquered the local dungeon! It’s only natural that Master Julius’s largest portrait should be displayed in the most prominent place! Isn’t that right, everyone?!”
“Yes! Yes!”
“But get rid of that painting! It’s pitiful for Master Julius!”
“How cruel! I worked so hard on it!”
“Take down that painting, you terrible artist!”
“Ehlertt! Don’t you have other portraits of Master Julius?! Replace it with one of those! I’ll have nightmares!”
“No! This is the largest portrait of Master Julius!”
Karen hugged the portrait, assuming a defensive posture.
The adventurers didn’t try to forcibly drag her down from the platform.
Despite their complaints, everyone was actually enjoying the spectacle.
“Someone bring an artist who can paint well!”
“Hey, this lady’s got paint on her clothes—she’s a painter! Let her do it!”
“No, I only paint as a hobby, so—”
“Anyone would be better than the sister alchemist!”
“Paint with confidence!”
Before long, painting supplies had been prepared, and with the adventurers’ enthusiastic encouragement, the amateur woman began painting Julius.
From there, it turned into the kind of festive commotion that adventurers loved.
Picasso with two hands broken XD
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