Steak and Rook spent the last two weeks drying Feelgood leaves and making cigarettes, though Steak mostly did the collecting. Rook barely talked the entire time, only really speaking when it was about the work or when he had a task for Steak. And, there was also the matter of sending a message to Lilith each day. She was yet to be close enough to his location for any of the messages he sent to reach her.C

Even though Steak wanted to ask more about the world and their current circumstances, he found it hard to talk to Rook. He seemed so engrossed in the process as if his life depended on it, the boy was obsessed. Apart from the fact that the previous owner of the shack was the person who took care of Rook when he was younger, Steak didn’t know anything else about the kid.

So instead of asking him directly, Steak observed Rook while he had nothing to do. The first thing he noticed was that even if he was only Level 10, he had a multitude of skills and uses for them, way more than Steak initially thought. Most of them were centered around making tools and making stuff in general. From this, Steak imagined that even though he was only two Levels away from being the same Level as Rook, there was still a gap in terms of skills and strength. And, that same thought may apply to the people he might encounter in the future.

Another thing that Steak did during those two weeks was making a walking staff out of the hardest piece of wood he could find. He carved it using his into a shape. It was a dark brown piece of wood that had a large ball-like shape at the top of it. He made it because the thought of running out of Mana during a fight worried him. With this, he could at least have something to fend himself with while still abiding by the restriction that he had with metallic objects.

***

While swinging around his new fancy stick outside of the shack, Rook came bursting out of the door. He held something above his head as he panted and gasped for air, something wrapped in Feelgood leaf.

“Finally! The machine worked!” He screamed.

“Uh, congratulations?” Steak clapped, not entirely sure what was happening.

“Here, go and smoke this, tell me how it differs compared to the ones you smoke using your pipe. Like how it tastes, how smooth it is, what sensations you feel, give me any kind of description,” Rook said.

“I’ve been meaning to ask. Why do you always make me test things? Surely you’ll get more ideas if you do it yourself,” Steak questioned Rook’s actions, but he still received the Feelgood cigarette.

“I have my reasons,” Rook nervously laughed. Knowing that Steak didn’t have any memories of his past life, he didn’t want to risk reminding him that smoking was one of the leading reasons for all kinds of diseases. And, there was also the matter of addiction to these kinds of substances.

“Eh, if you say so,” Steak shrugged, but there was a slight smile on his face.

He lit up the end of the Feelgood cigarette with a match and inhaled. Immediately after exhaling a big dopey smile was written all over his face. Rook didn’t need any more words from him that the first batch he made was effective. He did, however, use his skill on Steak.

In the two weeks that they spent making these things, Steak managed to make himself addicted to the stuff. He was never notified about it nor could he see it whenever he opened up his effects window. Oblivious and ignorant of his own situation, Rook didn’t bother to help the poor and confused man. There were other things in his mind that he was prioritizing.

“You’ve been pestering me about Spawnharbor, right? Well, how about we go there tonight and sell our first batch?” Rook asked.

“Finally! The people are going to love this!” Steak took another drag.

“Hold on, you can’t go to town looking like that,” Rook said as he ran back into the shack. “Here, wear this,” he tossed a pair of loose linen pants at him.

“You had this the whole time!? Why didn’t you give it to me earlier?” Steak cried out.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“It kind of slipped my mind. I’ve been meaning to give it to you, but I was just too engrossed in my work,” Rook scratched his head.

***

The two left their shack at noon, when the sweltering sun was at its highest and hottest. By the time that they reached the edge of town, the sun was already setting. It was nearly a five hour trek.

During their journey, Steak wondered how Rook navigated through the forest. He observed the small teenager for the first few hours, but in the end he couldn’t figure it out. So, that was when he just outright asked him.

“Hm? How do I navigate through this place? First of all, I’ve been living here the past five years, so that should explain how. And, secondly, I marked some of these trees with my magic. Here, look, I’ll make them visible to you,” Rook explained as he pulled out his wand.

Imbuing the engraved stick with a bit of his Mana, a thin blue line shot out at the end of it and connected with an invisible engraving on a tree near them. Suddenly, the thin blue line connected to another tree, then another, until there was a network that went forward and behind them. Once Rook stopped imbuing the web with Mana, it all disappeared.

“That’s convenient. Are all of your skills like this?” Steak asked.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” Rook said.

Steak furrowed his brows at that, he didn’t understand why Rook would say it. The kid looked to be the happiest when he was creating something.

Once they reached the actual town, Steak was a bit disappointed. With his first dungeon being the Castle of the Weeping King, he got exposed to the elaborate and extravagant architecture of the people of his time. Spawnharbor, however, was a far cry from that.

Majority of the buildings were shacks that looked similar to the one Rook was staying at. The streets were chaotic because of the houses and buildings that were built without any kind of planning in mind. There were some parts that looked nice, but most of them were either newly built or still in construction. It was clear that the whole place was still getting started.

And then, there were the people. Most of them looked like they had given up. There were an odd few that seemed to be living the life, but they also seemed crazy. There didn’t seem to be any kind of fashion style within Spawnharbor. Some people just wore their armor, some were wearing rags, and some wore clothes that seemed to belong in some kind of ancient civilization.

“You seem disappointed. Not what you were expecting, huh?” Rook grinned.

“Well, not really disappointed. I guess I was expecting a bit more than this,” Steak said.

“The nicer parts are over that way if you want to go sightseeing. But only go there after you finish selling your share,” Rook handed him 50 sticks of cigarettes. “Let’s start out by selling it at 20 Credits per stick. We can up the price later. First, we’ll have to let the people know that someone has reinvented this death stick,” he grinned.

Steak snapped his head at him. “What do you mean ‘death stick’?” He had a worried look on his face.

“We’re wasting time. I’m going in this direction, I’ll try to find you once I’m done with my share. Goodluck,” Rook quickly ran off.

Trying to find someone to even speak to him was the hardest part. Most people avoided him because of . There was even a beggar that covered his nose the moment Steak got near. The ones that were kind enough to listen to him seemed to not want anything to do with cigarettes.

“Ugh, I’ve already escaped that when I died the first time. Get that shit away from me,” one of them said.

After a couple of hours of rejection, Steak decided to take a break and rest in an alley. He leaned against the wall and lit up a cigarette. That was when someone approached him.

“Hey there, buddy. Whatcha got there?” A man wearing a full suit of armor asked him. He rested his wrist on the handle of his sword.

“A cigarette. You want to buy some? 20 per stick,” Steak calmly said.

“Alright, buddy. I’ll have one,” the man said.

Steak accepted and handed a cigarette to the mysterious man.

Steak slammed his forehead with his palm the moment that he saw the notification. Even if he were to sell all of the cigarettes that he had, he wouldn’t be able to use any of the Credits he’d receive for them. He also wouldn’t be able to get the tapeworm inside of him treated for a long while.

The armored man still hovered near him, staring at the cigarette in his palm. He then proceeded to drop on the ground and stomp it with his boot.

“I was wondering if you survived the first dungeon or not. Doesn’t surprise me at all that you’d do scummy shit like this though,” the man raised his helmet’s visor revealing Dick’s handsome face.

“Oh, hey,” Steak didn’t know what to say to him.

“That’s it? You really are slow. First, you illegally sell what surely must be contraband to a member of the town’s guard. But then you don’t even have anything to say to me. I’m hurt,” Dick sarcastically said.

“Wait, hold on, what do you mean illegal?” Steak asked.

“You don’t have a merchant permit, do you? And is this product even approved by the council? I doubt they’d allow something like that in this world,” Dick explained.

“I didn’t know about any of that. I wasn’t told any of that,” Steak said.

“Well, you can be informed in prison. You’re under arrest.”