Alan’s childhood dream was to become either an Overlord or a world-saving hero. For that dream, he’d poured his heart into everything: mastering magic, training his body, learning swordsmanship from wandering swordmasters. By fifteen, he’d finally achieved S Rank Mage and Level 3 Swordsman status. He thought he was ready to roam the Mystic Origin Continent, gathering adventure companions along the way. Then—a sudden incident shattered all his plans.

That day, the sun shone bright. A few lazy clouds drifted across the azure sky. Perfect travel weather.

Alan thought so. Alan acted on it. But just as he shouldered his pack and longsword, about to leave the city he’d called home for fifteen years—he was stopped. Not by a stranger. By the man who’d raised him: his father.

His dad stood at the city gates, a small pack on his own back. With a smile, he handed Alan a parchment scroll. Confused, Alan took it instinctively. And just like that—his dream popped like iridescent bubbles under sunlight. Gone.

"Hey! Guildmaster! Daydreaming again?" A blue-haired, green-eyed girl glared at the silver-haired youth slumped over the bar, staring blankly at that same parchment. "The guild next street over sent another debt collector yesterday. They’re demanding we pay up!"

The silver-haired boy was none other than Alan.

"Haina," he mumbled without looking up, "no missions today?" He deliberately ignored the debt talk. *Ridiculous*. The massive guild debt belonged to his unreliable dad and even more unreliable grandpa. Why should *he* pay? *Sons pay fathers’ debts? To hell with that.*

"Alan, grow a spine!" Haina’s eyes flashed. "How many days has it been since you took over this guild? When will you snap out of it? At this rate, Cloud Peak Guild’s members will scatter like dust!" *Why did being an Overlord or hero matter so much to him? Didn’t he know bards invented those tales?*

"I keep telling you—I was tricked into this guildmaster role by my deadbeat dad!"

"Does it matter? You’re guildmaster now. *Act* like one!"

"Then... how about I pass the title to you, Haina?" Alan’s eyes lit up, burning with hope.

"Get lost! That magic contract isn’t some trinket you can hand off!" Haina bared her teeth like she wanted to bite his head off.

Alan slumped again. No motivation. Without the dream of becoming an Overlord or hero... he had zero drive. *Guildmaster of a magic guild? Not in a million years.* He pressed his forehead against the bar, screaming internally.

"Oh-ho! Lovebirds bickering again?" The guildhall door swung open. A middle-aged man with a pipe sauntered in, chuckling. "Alan, be a pal—grab me a bottle of rum from behind you. Thanks."

"Ten gold coins. No haggling."

"*Pfft!* Robbery! How about one gold?"

"Deal."

*Clang!* A gleaming gold coin landed before Alan. He pocketed it, then slid a rum bottle across the bar.

"Kane," Alan tucked away the parchment, grinning now, "you paid so fast—you must’ve gotten a fat reward for yesterday’s job." Days had passed. He was slowly accepting his fate as guildmaster.

"Obviously. It was a four-star Beastmonster hunt. Low pay? No takers."

"How much did you make?" Alan’s eyes sparkled anew.

"*Tch.* One minute you’re half-dead, next minute you’re drooling over coins," Haina snapped. "At this rate, you’ll drown in a gold vault!"

Alan ignored her, staring fixedly at Kane. *You don’t know the cost of rice and salt until you run a household.* Especially when your deadbeat dad had dumped a mountain of debt on you! *Who ever heard of dads scamming sons? He’s pioneering the art!* Alan had sworn it silently: *Once I become a Grand Magus, I’ll beat him so badly even his own father won’t recognize him.*

"Heh. Three thousand gold."

"Three thousand? That means you owe the guild one hundred! Hand it over, Kane!" Alan patted Kane’s torso—finding only a pouch of tobacco. Not a single copper coin.

"Relax. Haven’t been paid yet." Kane snatched back his tobacco, scowling. "Anyway—you’re the guild’s youngest S Rank Mage. What’s next? Return to Arcane Academy? Or self-study here?"

"Kane," Alan groaned, "stop rubbing salt in my wounds. As Cloud Peak Guild’s master, can I even *go* back to the Academy? Self-study it is."

"Self-study’s fine. Your dad and grandpa left enough spellbooks to make you a Grand Magus."

"*Don’t* mention those two! I *hate* them!" Alan gritted his teeth.

"Yeah. I hate them too," Kane chuckled.

Haina snorted. "Kane, you only hate Alan’s dad because he stole the girl *you* liked."

"*Cough—cough—cough—!*" Kane choked on his smoke. "Haina... Alan’s right. Some truths are too harsh to voice."

"Hmph! All men are scoundrels. Heartless philanderers!"

Alan bristled. "That’s unfair! I’m a pure-hearted young man—a *good* man!"

"Oh? Then why did I catch you using magic to peek at girls bathing?"

Alan shut up. He shrunk into himself, face buried in the bar. *Playing dead.* He *had* peeked. At Haina. And she’d beaten him into a swollen mess afterward.

"Tsk tsk," Kane grinned. "Alan, I’m impressed. One question though—did that girl beat the crap out of you?"

*THUD!*

Haina’s fist sent Kane sprawling. He clutched his cheek, wincing as he stood. "How many times? *Never hit a man’s face!* Can’t you remember anything at your age?"

"Hmph. Only brothel regulars care about *that* face." Haina slid back onto her stool. Alan hastily poured her a rum, forcing a smile as he offered it. *Never anger a woman in a world without 911. Get beaten? Tough luck.*

Haina eyed Alan’s ingratiating grin—like a kicked puppy—and snatched the glass with a cold huff. "Shape up, Alan. I consider Cloud Peak Guild my *home*. If you let the rival guild swallow it up..." Her voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "...I’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life as a *girl*."

Alan’s legs clenched. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

Kane slammed the table, howling. "You two are priceless! Alan, just marry her already! Become her bestie—live as her sister. Perfect!"

Alan’s hair practically stood on end. "*KANE!* Want me to tell the rival guildmaster you slept with his daughter?"

The laughter died instantly. Kane straightened his clothes, face grave. "Guildmaster Alan... if you do, I’ll have no choice but to reveal how you once suckled milk from that guildmaster’s *wife*."

*PFFT—!*

Haina spat her mouthful of rum straight into Alan’s face.

"*Cough—cough—ALAN! YOU—YOU—*" Her face burned crimson, finger trembling as she pointed at him.

"Haina! Urgent guild business! You’re in charge!" Alan’s body dissolved into shimmering light particles.

*Light Escape*—a spell only S Rank Mages could cast. The first magic he’d learned after his promotion.

"*A—L—A—N!*"

Haina’s roar shook Cloud Peak Guild.

Kane slipped out quietly. *No one messes with Haina when she’s furious. Not even a Super S Rank Mage.*

······

Newdali City. An eight-meter-wide river cut through its heart, flowing slowly toward the unknown.

On its banks, Alan—dressed in a white tee and black shorts—crouched, watching the water drift past.

"*Damn* Kane," he muttered. "Blabbing that in front of Haina? He *wanted* her to beat the crap out of me!"