He ignored the stares and whispers, moving purposefully towards the massive noticeboard. It was plastered thick with parchment requests, tacked haphazardly over older notices, ranging from simple courier tasks ("Deliver package to Mistress Elmsworth - Urgent!") to dangerous monster hunts ("Wyvern sighted near Dragon's Tooth Peak - Experienced parties only!"). Rewards varied wildly, from a few bronze coins to hundreds of gold for the truly perilous missions.
He scanned the densely packed parchment notices, his eyes skimming past mundane delivery requests and high-risk monster hunts. He sought something specific: collection tasks, preferably involving resources valuable to alchemists or enchanters, as they often paid in reagents more easily convertible or valuable than standard coin. His eyes landed on a cluster of similar requests posted by the Alchemist's Guild and several arcane researchers.
One set caught his attention first, familiar and relatively safe:
[Request: Spirit Stone Fragments]
[Source: Minor Elemental Beasts (Type: Lumina Moths / Shadow Wisps / Ember Sprites)]
[Location: Whispering Caves Network (Sector Gamma)]
[Objective: Collect Ten (10) Intact Spirit Stone Fragments.]
[Reward: 5 Silver Coins per Fragment (Total 50 Silver) OR Equivalent Value Trade Goods.]
[Hazard Level: Low-Moderate (Cave Navigation, Minor Beast Encounters)]
Okay, Lloyd thought, considering it. Whispering Caves. Annoying moths and wisps, but not truly dangerous. Fifty Silver total... equivalent to half a Gold Coin. Better than nothing. Could cover half a day's System conversion. It was the sensible choice. The safe choice. The kind of choice nineteen-year-old Lloyd, in his first life, would have reluctantly taken, if he dared enter the Guild Hall at all.
But then, just below it, tacked slightly crookedly, another notice pulsed with a higher implied value, though its hazard rating was noticeably starker:
[Task: Procure Cursed Wool]
[Source: Whispering Hill Wild Sheep (Ovis Somnium Malevolus)]
[Objective: Obtain Ten (10) intact pelts with wool unaffected by scavenger damage or improper handling.]
[Reward: Master Alchemist Grimaldi offers Three (3) Vials of Purified Quicksilver per pelt OR Equivalent Value in Rare Herbs.]
[Hazard Level: Moderate-High (Environmental Hazards, Beast's Curse Aura, Requires Precise Incapacitation)]
Lloyd's eyes narrowed, rereading the reward. Three vials of Quicksilver... per pelt? Purified Quicksilver was liquid gold to alchemists, easily fetching several Gold Coins per vial. Ten pelts could net him the equivalent of twenty or even thirty Gold Coins in reagents. Enough to max out his System conversion for days, maybe even weeks. The potential profit dwarfed the meager fifty Silver from the moth fragments.
But the risk… Whispering Hill Wild Sheep. He remembered the name, the reputation. The psychic miasma emanating from their wool, inducing madness in those who got too close or handled it improperly. Not aggressive beasts, but passively deadly. Taking them down required range, precision, avoiding contamination at all costs. Utterly impossible for the Lloyd Ferrum of his first life, with his pathetic spirit and clumsy Void control.
He glanced mentally at the memory of Fang, crackling with lightning, executing the Thousand Chirp Strike. He felt the familiar thrum of the Steel and Fire Void power coiled within him, the potential for those whisper-thin, burning wires.
Range? Precision? Avoid contamination? A slow, predatory grin touched Lloyd's lips. Wait a minute. I have that now. Fang's strike can hit from a distance. My wires… they can immobilize or kill without me ever touching the wool. The primary danger of the Wild Sheep… might actually be mitigated by my specific, hidden skill set.
The safe, sensible Lumina Moth hunt suddenly seemed tedious, inefficient. Fifty Silver versus potentially thirty Gold worth of reagents? The choice, fueled by his desperate need for capital and his newfound confidence in his abilities, was instantly clear. Risk was relative. And the potential reward here was too significant to ignore.
He reached out, bypassing the moth fragment request, and carefully detached the slightly thicker parchment detailing the Cursed Wool procurement. The paper felt heavy, almost ominous, beneath his fingers. He turned and walked with newfound purpose towards the main reception counter, ignoring the intensified stares and whispers that tracked his movement.
He placed the parchment firmly on the counter before the same young clerk with ink-stained fingers and a perpetually weary expression. The clerk looked up, registered Lloyd, and his eyes widened slightly in surprise.
"I wish to accept this contract," Lloyd stated clearly, tapping the Wild Sheep request form.
The clerk blinked, his gaze dropping to the parchment. He read the title. Then he read it again, his face visibly paling. His eyes darted up to Lloyd, then around the now-attentive Guild Hall, then back to Lloyd, his expression shifting rapidly from weariness to disbelief, then to outright alarm.