After Leaving the A-Rank Party, I Aim for the Deep Part of the Labyrinth With My Former Students

(This chapter switches back to Simon’s perspective for the first time in a while.)

"Recently, Clover captivated audiences with their live stream of the Zarnag subjugation. And today, they’ve done it again with a new stream!"

"This footage appears to show their battle against the floor boss, Wandering Left Hand, in the fifth level of the Golgona Underground Ruins."

"Indeed. That red-robed figure is their leader, Yuke, a Red Mage. His movements are, as always, mesmerizing."

"How so?"

"It’s his advanced technique of Quick Cast without incantation. It’s an upper-tier Red Mage skill that requires selecting and preparing the right spells beforehand. This is incredibly difficult to master, requiring significant experience and knowledge. To pull it off as smoothly as he does is extraordinary."

"I see, fascinating."

"And beyond that—"

Watching Yuke on the Adventurer’s Guild’s massive screen, I couldn’t help but grind my teeth.

Why was that otherwise unimpressive guy, with nothing but a flashy appearance, being praised so much?

This wasn’t even footage of some high-difficulty dungeon attack. It was just a floor boss from a shallow level.

How anyone found such content entertaining was beyond me. The audience’s standards must have declined lately.

Unfortunately, the reality was that we couldn’t afford to ignore such trends.

Even Thunder Pike, despite continuing to stream our own adventures, had seen a significant drop in viewership recently. Just the other day, one of our sponsors pulled out.

…It was aggravating, but maybe we’d have to start streaming this kind of content too.

“Damn that Yuke, prancing around with his low-rank party like he’s something special,” Barry spat, downing another drink.@@novelbin@@

“I heard he was recently promoted to A-rank. I suppose it’s only natural he’d get a bit full of himself. But we should focus on our own problems,” I said, steering the conversation back.

Lately, Thunder Pike had been struggling, with repeated failures piling up.

The primary reason? The quality of our new recruits was abysmal.

On top of that, they never stayed.

Even though we were formally recruiting members as regulars, most left after just one or two jobs, often throwing parting insults as they went.

I’d heard talk about how the newer generation of adventurers lacked determination and resilience. Judging by our experience, the rumors seemed to be true.

"Oh! Yuke just used a spell scroll—what a perfect assist! That’s some amazing timing, Gatou."
"Indeed, flawless timing. His coordination with his party is incredible. Honestly, with his support, even I’d feel confident tackling a dungeon."
"I wouldn’t get ahead of yourself… And it’s done! A clean victory with no risks taken."
"We’ll definitely want to keep an eye on Clover moving forward! Now, onto the next stream—"

I sighed, watching Yuke on the screen.

But… was Yuke always this capable?

At least, when he was with Thunder Pike, he wasn’t like this.

Back then, he didn’t use anything like Prismatic Missile, that unknown spell he’s now famous for. He was quieter, more methodical, and frankly, uninspired.

“Hey, at this rate, we won’t find new members. Why don’t we just call Yuke back?” Barry suggested.

“Yuke? You’re serious?”

“Yeah. Whatever else you say about him, he kept up with us back then. He’s better than these spineless rookies we’ve been dealing with.”

Barry had a point.

The quality of recruits was declining, and it was causing our failures in missions and dungeon attacks.

If this kept up, our adventurer trust score would drop, and a rank demotion wasn’t out of the question.

At least when Yuke was with us, we didn’t fail missions consecutively like this.

Maybe, in his own way, he’d contributed to our success.

“It’s just a matter of money, isn’t it? Sweeten the deal a bit—take a chunk out of Jemmy’s share if we have to,” Barry suggested.

“But he left on his own, didn’t he?” I pointed out.

“He was just frustrated about money. I bet he regrets it by now.”

“…Maybe. And besides, A-rank adventurers don’t gain much from low-rank missions. If we offer to take him back, it might be the sensible thing to do.”

Yuke’s childhood dream—challenging the Abyss Gate at the edge of the world—required approval from both the kingdom and the Adventurer’s Guild. That meant having a high adventurer trust score, which practically necessitated being part of an A-rank party like ours.

When he left, I was shocked. But if it was just about money, a slight adjustment to his reward might bring him back.

It’s honestly pathetic.

Having such a shallow guy as a childhood friend is embarrassing for me too.

“Next time we see him, let’s talk to him,” Barry suggested.

“Yeah. It’s time we both compromised. We’ll let bygones be bygones.”

We laughed, clinking our mugs together.

I’d need to run this by Jemmy and Camilla later, but I doubted they’d object.

After all, Thunder Pike had been doing just fine before Yuke started talking nonsense. His leaving was what forced us to start looking for new members in the first place.

As both an adventurer and an adult, he should take responsibility.

If we’re generous enough to forgive him, things can go back to the way they were.

“Oh, speak of the devil,” Barry said, motioning toward the entrance.

Turning to look, I saw Yuke walk into the Guild with three young women.

There was a red-haired swordswoman, a silver-haired dark elf, and a petite cleric.

All of them were attractive, though they had an unpolished air that marked them as rookies.

But women are women.

Knowing Yuke, he’d been sweet-talked and taken advantage of.

Those rookies must have cozied up to him, using his B-rank—or A-rank now—trust score to secure better requests. And he, clueless as ever, fell for it.

How naive.

Nobody willingly seeks out a Red Mage like that.

Time to step in.

I stood up, puffed out my chest, and strode toward Yuke.

“Hey, Yuke.”