Kikori no Isekai Tan

The inside of the adventurers’ guild was a mess. Countless papers were pasted on the walls, and a row of counters lined up in the back.

The spacious area was filled with people of all ages and genders.

There were humans, elves, dwarves, and even beastmen.

One of them let out a laugh when he saw Gantz and Kikori, who was being held by Gantz.

“Hahaha, look at that! Gantz has caught another kid!”

“Always looking out for the little ones, huh?”

“That’s our babysitter Gantz for you!”

The laughter was soon surprisingly quelled with a “Shut up, you idiots,” and playful nudges and kicks from Gantz to those nearby, but Kikori couldn’t help but look up at Gantz.

“So you take care of others like me too?”

“Yeah. There was a time when I kept seeing dead kids. It made my booze taste bad. So I had no choice.”

Even so, that didn’t change the fact that Gantz was a good person. Instead of pretending that he didn’t see anything, he took action.

Gantz roughly patted Kikori’s head, making him look down, and said, “Let’s go,” leading him to the counter.

There, a woman whom he assumed to be the receptionist greeted them with a smile.

“Good morning, Gantz. Today, that child..?”

“Ah, it’s different this time. This one wants to be an adventurer.”

Gantz said with a grimace. The receptionist looked between Gantz and Kikori, then stared intently at Kikori.

“If you wish to become an adventurer and present your wooden tag, it is my duty to accept it and register you.”

“Yes.”

“Gantz here, despite his looks, is one of the finest adventurers trusted by the guild. If he requests us to introduce you to a job, we are prepared to offer you any available jobs that are much cleaner and safer than being an adventurer. They also provide a stable income. Even knowing this, do you still want to be an adventurer?”

“Yes.”

Kikori answered immediately. He had no confidence in being able to do any job other than that of an adventurer.

He could already foresee a future where he would be called demon-possessed again.

It was akin to a prejudice caused by a traumatic experience, but his prediction that it would happen kept him from choosing any other work.

“Well, as you can see, he’s got some baggage. Although it’s not an uncommon story here.”

“… Indeed. Well then, what’s your name? And your weapon is that axe on your back, correct? May I see it?”

“Yes. My name is Kikori.”

He removed the axe, case and all, from his back and placed it on the counter. The receptionist studied it and hummed.

“It’s a well-used axe, but there are no bloodstains. Seems like it was used for chopping wood… I see, that’s why you’re called Kikori.”

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