"So, you’re suggesting we need a budget adjustment."

  "Ah, sorry!"

  "No need to apologize," Izi said. "You wrote the report—speak your mind.

  Do you think we can pass through Man?"

  When Izi bent down slightly to meet his gaze, Sibonen broke into a cold sweat.

  He needed to answer carefully.

  "I... think it would be difficult," Sibonen said carefully.

  "The ongoing disputes suggest deep resentment between both sides."

  He continued, doing his best to stay calm.

  "It would be better to send a diplomatic envoy ahead to contact the Man border guards from Karl's territory,

  rather than moving the cargo immediately."

  Izi straightened up, looking down at him.

  "Good. Your analysis is logical. We'll dispatch someone from Karl's main office to negotiate."

  "Thank you, ma'am."

  Sibonen realized what Isrin had said earlier was true.

  The guild truly employed outstanding talents from all fields.

  Even if his own recruitment felt somewhat rushed, the standard here was undeniably high.

  He also reflected on Orin, the guild master.

  Though Orin had said little during their meeting, Sibonen could sense he was no ordinary man.

  He seemed like someone capable of gathering elites fit for top governmental posts.

  "I have to succeed in this mission and secure my pce."

  While Sibonen was lost in thought, Isrin discussed further mission details with Izi.

  "Sibonen!"

  He snapped out of it and looked at Isrin.

  "Apologies, Lady Izi. It’s my first time meeting you—I was a bit nervous."

  Isrin chuckled as she grabbed Sibonen by the neck and bowed his head.

  "I apologize," Sibonen repeated.

  Though he felt he had apologized enough, Izi didn’t seem particurly concerned.

  "This week, we’ll set a departure date," Izi said.

  "Prepare yourself."

  She continued,

  "If we have to go through the Western Frontier, we’ll need to increase our manpower.

  I’ll add some Dish members—Code C level."

  Sibonen remembered from the recruit manual:

  Dish's Code C members were elite bodyguards, individually selected for their exceptional skills.

  (Unlike Code S–B teams, Code C operatives often worked independently.)

  Izi dismissed them with a wave, and Sibonen hurried out of the room.

  He exhaled carefully, aware that a single careless moment could ruin everything again.

  "Seems like you're eager to meet true Imperial-born warriors," Isrin teased.

  Sibonen almost objected but shrugged it off.

  Instead, he commented,

  "Senior Secretary Izi seems like a very difficult person to approach."

  Isrin tilted her head.

  "Really? She’s a little intimidating at first, but she’s brilliant—and actually very kind once you know her."

  Sibonen had to disagree about the "kind" part.

  After a short break, Isrin suggested visiting the Dish Division office.

  "It’s better to meet the team members ahead of time," she said.

  As they sipped tea in the guild's small café, Isrin expined.

  "Dish is the guild’s rgest division. Even we don’t know the exact number of members.

  Their Code S, A, B, and C ranks are based on different job types.

  For escort missions like ours, Code C operatives usually handle the fieldwork."

  She added,

  "Senior Secretary Izi oversees the whole mission,

  but in the field, Code C members manage the reconnaissance and combat."

  Sibonen nodded, trying to remember all the information.

  "Two Code C members, Jensen and Atari, will join our escort," Isrin continued.

  "They’re excellent fighters.

  But if we really have to go through the Western Frontier... it won’t be easy."

  Sibonen couldn't help but worry.

  It wasn’t just about the danger—he wondered if someone as delicate-looking as Isrin could endure the harsh conditions.

  After finishing their simple meal, Isrin warned him again.

  "Be careful around some of the Dish members.

  A few of them are... let's say, unique. Try not to provoke them."

  Sibonen was curious what she meant, but decided to find out for himself when he met them.

  At the Dish office, Isrin greeted three people casually.

  "Hello, Jensen, Atari. I see you’re all here."

  A woman in front bowed slightly, and a burly middle-aged man with a thick beard ughed heartily.

  "Good day, Lady Isrin. And who's the scrawny rat hiding behind you?"

  Sibonen instinctively looked behind him, but there was no one else.

  "...Are you referring to me?"

  Slightly bewildered by the insult, he asked.

  "Yeah, you!"

  Jensen barked a ugh and turned to the others.

  "Who’s this, Lady Isrin?"

  Isrin stepped between them quickly.

  "Jensen, don’t say things like that.

  This is Sibonen Headwicker, our new recruit in Field Division.

  He’ll be joining us for the Lograd magic stone escort mission."

  Jensen chuckled and spped Sibonen hard on the shoulder.

  "Ha! So even twigs like you make it into the guild these days, huh?"

  Sibonen's face stiffened.

  He twisted his body slightly, brushing Jensen’s hand off.

  "I’d appreciate it if you stopped being so rude.

  I’m willing to be patient, but only up to a point."

  Hearing that, Jensen roared with ughter.

  "Guys! The newbie says he won’t tolerate me!"

  The other two approached, their expressions amused.

  "Acting like some high-ranking noble, huh? What can you do about it?"

  muttered the quiet man at the end.

  "Must be some noble king or something!" Jensen howled with ughter.

  "Forgive us, oh mighty lord!"

  Sibonen clenched his fists, anger simmering.

  He had endured a lot of things since his fall from nobility, but mocking his bloodline was crossing a line.

  Finally, Jensen proposed a simple sparring match—one popur among Imperial children:

  "One hit each, non-lethal areas only. First to fall loses."

  Sibonen, recalling his military academy training, smirked inwardly.

  He was confident he could win easily with a strong body blow.

  "One hit to the ribs, and he’s down."

  Jensen raised both arms, signaling Sibonen to strike first.

  Sibonen nodded, stepping in and delivering a powerful blow to Jensen’s side.

  He felt the impact clearly, and pain shot through his wrist.

  But Jensen just smiled.

  "That all?"

  Sibonen froze in disbelief.

  No normal human could absorb a hit like that.

  "Now it’s my turn," Jensen said cheerfully.

  Sibonen braced himself.

  A heavy punch nded squarely on his chest—

  and he flew backward, tumbling to the ground.

  He couldn’t breathe. His chest felt like it had been caved in.

  "Hahaha! Weakling!" Jensen ughed as he turned back to his comrades.

  Sibonen struggled to his feet, dusted himself off, and gasped.

  "I lost. But—"

  He didn’t finish the sentence.

  His legs buckled, his vision blurred—

  and everything faded to bck.