Who Says I'm Not a Proper Adventurer?
Chapter 35: What You Should Desire Is the Young Lady’s Body

Chapter 35: Chapter 35: What You Should Desire Is the Young Lady’s Body

"You have returned to the beginning. This is the end."

"No."

Alves didn’t stop. He took another step forward.

"For a circle, the beginning is the end, and the end is also the beginning. Since this is the beginning, how can I have possibly reached the end?"

He walked on and on, circle after circle, tirelessly.

This was not just sophistry, but an unbreakable logical loop.

Ultimately, the Ferryman, bound by an ancient pact and unable to break their wager, felt an unbearable sense of annoyance.

To keep the mortal from circling his shore forever—an eyesore and an obstruction—the infuriated Ferryman could only lash out with a furious kick, booting Alves straight out of the Netherworld.

"Get lost! Go back to the world of the living and keep walking in your circles! Don’t come crawling back until your legs have rotted away!"

And so, Alves returned to the mortal realm.

This is a well-known fairytale in this world.

The story always ends with these words:

[And so, children, do not treat death as a foregone conclusion.]

[When Power cannot defy fate, wisdom can draw you a circle to return to. As long as you keep moving forward, the end can never catch you.]

Lance had always thought it was just a story for children.

But now, looking at the Profession information for [Pale Guard], he suddenly felt that...

Perhaps the Profession Alves had taken up back then was one that danced on the edge of life and death, possessing immense survival Resilience.

If he had to choose between the conventional [Swordsman] and this rare [Pale Guard]...

As a veteran power-gamer in his past life, the answer was obvious.

’Of course, I’ll pick the stronger one.’

Lance clenched his fists, a flash of ambition in his eyes.

’Since I have a cheat, I might as well play on a higher difficulty.’

’Next, I’ll need to completely rethink my Skill tree.’

As his thoughts returned to the present, the carriage crested the final hill.

The familiar silhouette of Gray Rock Town appeared on the horizon.

...

After confirming that Damian, that silly kid, had been taken in for treatment by the Guild’s physician and was in no mortal danger,

Lance returned to his own little den in the attic.

He locked the door behind him and struggled to peel off his blood-soaked equipment.

This set of gear, which had cost him quite a few Silver Coins, was completely ruined.

The Leather Armor was covered in slashes and puncture holes, and even two of the leg guards’ buckles had snapped.

’Looks like after this joint sweep mission is over, I’ll have to make a trip to the Artisan District to get a new set.’

Lance sat bare-chested on the edge of his bed, staring down at his hands.

They were caked with dried, dark green blood.

Even now, the scenes from the shallows earlier today kept replaying in his mind.

The Goblin’s savage face, the shriek of a Stone Spear tearing through the air, the sensation of a Short Sword slicing into flesh, and the jarring impact on his Shield.

Lance suddenly noticed his right hand was trembling slightly.

He raised it before his eyes to examine it closely.

At first, the shaking was subtle, but as he recalled the battle, the tremors in his fingertips grew more violent. His muscles were spasming with excitement.

This wasn’t fear.

Lance knew this feeling all too well.

His muscles were cheering, his nerves were thrumming—they were excited by the dance on the edge of life and death.

This body was craving the next battle.

SLAP!

A crisp sound echoed.

Lance raised his left hand and smacked his disobedient right hand hard.

"Damn you, you little monster!"

he cursed viciously through gritted teeth.

"At your age, you shouldn’t be craving battle!"

"You should be craving a young lady’s soft, warm body! Can’t you have some proper aspirations?!"

To suppress this unnatural agitation, he forced his eyes shut and frantically recalled the illustrations from the *Ostran Summer Edition* he’d seen in the bookstore.

The Foxman girl’s fluffy ears, the Succubus’s sultry gaze, and the Elf Ranger’s long, slender thighs...

He flipped through those pages in his mind over and over again until the excitement for battle gradually subsided and his mind became as calm as still water.

"Hoo..."

Lance let out a long breath and kicked the pile of ruined equipment under the bed.

Out of sight, out of mind.

After a quick wash, Lance changed into his day clothes and went out again.

This time, his destination was the town bookstore.

He had always been curious about and longed to understand this world’s system of Professionals, but with his perpetually empty pockets, he could only learn bits and pieces through hearsay.

He had tried to freeload and read the expensive professional books in the bookstore before.

But the shrewd bookstore owner had taught him a lesson.

All High Tier Knowledge books priced over 10 Silver Coins were enchanted with a special anti-reading Technique.

You could only see the first ten pages—the table of contents and introduction. The rest of the content was shrouded in a fog, completely illegible.

Want to learn real skills without paying? No way.

But things were different now.

After robbing that unlucky bastard Hakon, Lance’s wallet was temporarily full.

Without any hesitation, he slapped down twenty Silver Coins and bought the *Basic Guide for Professional Employment*, a book he had been coveting for a long time.

’Knowledge is so expensive.’

As he walked out of the bookstore, Lance clutched his much lighter coin purse. Though his heart ached, he knew this investment was definitely worth it.

By the time he got home, the sky had darkened. He lit the kerosene lamp on his desk and, by its light, opened the costly book.

It was expensive, but he had to admit the money was well spent.

The book’s paper was thick and durable, the writing clear and neat, and it even came with exquisite magical diagrams. If preserved properly, it could easily be passed down for several generations.

As he turned the pages, the mysterious veil over this world’s system of Professionals was finally lifted, layer by layer, before Lance’s eyes.

The path of a Professional was far more rigorous than he had imagined.

The Professional Level cap was set at Level 20.

After taking a Profession, this twenty-level path of advancement was known in ancient texts as the [Ascension Ladder].

It signified that by ascending step by step, a mortal could eventually stand equal to the gods.

The strength of Professionals was divided into four Major Tiers: Ordinary Level, Excellence Level, Extraordinary Level, and Legendary Level.

An insurmountable gulf existed between each Tier.

According to the book, once a human Professional crossed into the Excellence Level, the Magic Power within their body would begin to reshape their flesh, gradually transcending the limits of their race.

Upon reaching the Extraordinary Level, a single person was enough to determine the outcome of a small-scale battle.

As for the final Legendary Level, ancient texts referred to them as walking natural disasters.

Lance read, engrossed. He only stopped when he turned to the Chapter on Attributes and profession requirements, his fingers freezing on the page.