Lightning king

The guild hall was in chaos with loud chatter, clinking plates, and the occasional burst of laughter. The large space was filled with crowds of mercenaries armed with swords and daggers sat alongside nobles in extravagant outfits, indulging in fine food and drink. The air smelled of roasted meat, spilled ale, and the faint metallic tang of weapons.

At the guild counter stood a young woman, her expression tight with irritation. She tapped her fingers on the polished wood, her sharp eyes darting toward the loudest group in the room.

"It's too noisy," she thought, her lips pressing into a thin line. "And look at that one, bragging like he's slain a dragon when it's probably just a simple delivery job."

Her gaze lingered on a particularly animated mercenary, his exaggerated gestures drawing laughs from his companions. The young woman sighed heavily, wishing for a moment of peace amidst the chaos.

Suddenly, the heavy main door creaked open, letting in a burst of cold air and momentarily drawing the attention of a few nearby patrons. The young woman at the counter glanced up, her irritation deepening.

"Tch, another one," she muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowing as she sized up the newcomer.

The man who entered was tall, his black hair neatly tied back, framing a face that seemed almost unnaturally perfect. His luxurious robe, embroidered with intricate patterns. His sharp, calculating gaze suggested he was no mere noble indulging in excess .

The young woman at the counter frowned, her irritation momentarily replaced by curiosity. He didn't fit the usual type that wandered into the guild hall.

Her fingers tapped the counter again, a quieter rhythm this time. "Who's this supposed to be?" she thought, her eyes following him as he moved further into the room.

The noise in the hall dulled slightly. A few heads turned toward the newcomer, their conversations faltering.

The young woman straightened slightly, her earlier irritation giving way to a vague unease. She braced herself, then masked her discomfort with a polite business smile.

"Hey, Claire, do you know this guy?" asked the mercenary she had been complaining about just a moment ago.

She turned toward him with an irritated expression, her glare cutting sharper than any retort she might have had.

"Okay, okay," the mercenary said quickly, raising his hands in mock surrender before retreating back to his table.

.....

Jack pov

Looking at the chaotic scene in front of him. Jack's eyes scanned the room a mix of rough mercenaries, polished nobles, and the vibrant sounds of clattering plates and boisterous laughter. It was exactly as he imagined it to be.

From all the novels I've read, this is the place where most of the main characters in similar situations end up, he thought, watching a few mercenaries haggle over a contract, their faces alight with the thrill of opportunity. Completing quests, becoming rich... though I may not have that kind of luck. But this should be the perfect place to start for someone with nothing.

He inhaled deeply, the smell of roasted meat and ale filling his senses, and took a step further into the hall. This was it—a fresh start, even if the path ahead was uncertain. His fingers brushed against the soft fabric of his robe, and he couldn't help but wonder how long it would be before he, too, became one of those brash adventurers boasting about their latest exploits.

'now i should look for the counter and register' jack thought

He looks around the counter was easy to find.

Quickly making his way to the counter

"How can I sign up?" Jack asked the brown-haired woman behind the counter.

She paused for a moment before replying, "There's no signing-up process here."

Jack frowned, thinking for a moment before asking, "Isn't this the place where people take quests and make money?"

The brown-haired woman—Claire—narrowed her eyes, studying Jack with a mix of irritation and curiosity. "This isn't a tavern or a charity," she said, her tone clipped. "It's a guild hall. Mercenaries , adventurers, and traders gather here to exchange information and take on jobs. But there's no hand-holding."

Jack furrowed his brow. "So… no formal registration?"

Claire shook her head. "You want work? You find someone who needs something done and convince them to hire you. Or take a posted job from the board if you've got the guts to back it up."

Jack glanced at the nearby job board. Most of the postings were clustered together, with bold headings like "Bandit Problem Near the Eastern Pass" and "Missing Person in the Whispering Woods." The more dangerous jobs were marked with red wax seals, warning of high risk.

"Is there anything a newbie like me could do?" Jack asked.

Claire's expression darkened, irritation flickering in her eyes. Before she could answer, a loud voice cut in from across the hall.

"Look here! We've got ourselves a young master wanting to become a mercenary! Anyone wants to hire him"

Jack turned to see a blonde mercenary standing nearby, a smug grin on his face. It was the same man Claire had been glaring at earlier.

"Maybe he's got a noble's purse to throw around!" the mercenary continued, earning a few chuckles from his companions.

Jack stiffened, embarrassed by the sudden attention. His eyes flicked around the room, catching a few curious glances from nearby tables. Heat rose to his cheeks, but he kept his expression composed, refusing to let the mercenary see him falter.

"I'm just here for work," Jack said, his voice steady despite the tension.

The blonde mercenary gave Jack a slow, exaggerated look from head to toe, taking in his neatly pressed robe, clean hands, and lean frame. Jack's muscles hinted at some training, but his overall appearance made him seem more like a noble than a seasoned fighter.

The mercenary's smirk widened, clearly enjoying himself. "Work, huh? Doesn't look like you've ever had a hard day in your life. Maybe someone will hire you for… bookkeeping or polishing silverware."

His companions burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the hall.

Jack clenched his jaw, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up his neck. He met the mercenary's gaze with steady eyes, refusing to let the taunts rattle him.

"Maybe," Jack said calmly, his voice cutting through the noise. "But at least I won't be stuck chasing scraps my whole life."

The laughter died down, and the blonde mercenary's smirk twisted into a scowl. "You've got a sharp tongue, young master. Let's see if you've got the strength to back it up."

Before Jack could respond, Claire's voice cut in, sharp as a dagger. "Enough, Lars. If you've got time to bark, you've got time to take a job from the board."

The mercenary—Lars—glared at her, then at Jack, before letting out a low chuckle. "I'll be keeping an eye on you, pretty boy. Let's see how long you last."

Jack flinched at Lars' parting words, his composure cracking for a brief moment. The mercenary's sneer widened at the reaction, clearly satisfied.

"Thought so," Lars muttered, turning back to his table. His companions laughed again, though the sound was more subdued now.

Jack clenched his fists, frustrated with himself for showing weakness.

Claire noticed the flicker of doubt in his expression and sighed. "Ignore him," she said, her tone softer than before. "Guys like Lars talk big, but they don't last long when things get serious. Focus on yourself."

Jack nodded, forcing himself to relax. "I'm fine," he said, though his voice wavered slightly.

Claire tapped the counter, drawing his attention. Before she could speak again, she was interrupted. Annoyance and irritation crept onto her face for being interrupted a second time.

"I have a job for you. Something simple — perfect for a newbie like you."

The voice was smooth yet carried an edge of condescension. He turned slowly to see one of the young masters standing a few paces away, dressed in finely embroidered robes. His dark eyes, cold and calculating, face masked by a large, unsettling smile .

A chill crept down Jack's spine. The young master's posture was relaxed ' there is something unnerving about him' Jack thougth

"The job is simple," the man said with a smile. "Help me collect herbs from the Misty Forest. Three silver coins as payment. Generous, right?"

The young master's smile widened "It's a rare herb. Worth the risk. I assume you're not afraid of a little danger?"

Jack was perplexed by the unnatural offer. However, his instinct told him to refuse. Trusting his gut, he knew it was best not to accept a job from an unknown person who clearly seems to carry an agenda. He decided to politely decline.

Jack forced a polite smile, masking his growing suspicion

"I'm sorry, Young Master . I will have to refuse. I only came to look around," Jack apologized.

The young master was taken aback by Jack's refusal but seemed content, as if he had accomplished his goal.

The man's smile didn't waver. "It's okay. My name is Lei Han."

Jack nodded, feeling a strange sense of foreboding. "Then I'll take my leave young master Lei."

jack quickly made his way toward the entrance. As Jack approached the door, Lars called out. "Good luck, young master! Don't break a nail!"

Jack didn't respond. This time, he kept his head down and his focus forward. I'll prove myself… just not with words.