The thing about working behind the single counter of a shop like Cleimeph was that it could be really, really boring sometimes. Customers tended to come in early in the morning and late in the evening, since most were adventurers who spent daylight, well, adventuring. So in the slow time in between, I pretty much had nothing to do.

Arsral had his wheelchair so he didn’t need a stool, and the one Arswen used during the rare times he tended the shop was too high and pressed my thighs up into the countertop. So I’d conjured my own wooden stool once my level was high enough. Law of equivalent exchange? What’s that?

I was now at lucky Level 7 and so were [Light Orb] [Light Manipulation] [Conjure] and [Clean]. The combat skills and [Deal] were still at Level 1 for obvious reasons and [Resist Pain] was only at Level 2 because of the way I kept hitting my head on the top of the doorframe.

Being taller than everyone else was great but brought problems that I had never experienced before. Worth it.

Most of the time when I tended the shop I had a book in front of me. Today I had a book summarising the many different races that inhabited this world.

Dwarves

One of the three great races. Legend says the first Dwarf was born from stone. They are born looking almost the same as a human baby and their skin takes upon a rocky pallor as they reach adolescence. Their skin hardens when exposed to sunlight so most dwarves prefer to stay in their underground cities. Their-

The bell hanging over the door tinkled as a new customer pushed their way inside. I glanced up briefly from my book to greet them.

“Welcome to Cleimeph.”

-high tolerance for heat allows them to stay inside their volcano forges for an extended period of time. Despite being one of the few intelligent races without the ability to naturally manipulate mana, they-

“You!”

I looked up again to meet an angry gaze and pointing finger. One look at his dark blue mohawk and I remembered who he was.

The thug guy who was in the alleyway that one time I got super lost.

I shifted into the persona of an ‘overly polite badass’ and raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, me. Are we going to have a problem?” I asked coolly. If we did, at least this time I had some combat skills, low levelled as they were.

He growled at me. “We will if you interfere with my business with that midget again!”

By midget, he probably meant Toen. After I’d helped him out, I’d seen him around town a few times and exchanged a few words.

“My, my. What did he ever do to you?”

“He killed my father!”

And with that shocking statement, he turned and charged out of the store.

…What did he even come in here for?

Apparently Mohawk wasn’t just some mindless thug after all. I felt a bit bad for stereotyping him now. In my defence, he was acting exactly like one.

But wow, that was a shocking revelation. Toen didn’t seem the type for murder and was pretty well-liked by everyone. I just couldn’t imagine him killing anyone. But he was reluctant to disclose Mohawk and friend’s reasons for beating him up, which indicated at least some guilt.

I thought about it for a moment more before shrugging and petting Kuro who was napping on my lap. Fortunately, it hadn’t woken up despite the ruckus.

Maybe I’d ask Aunt Detion about Mohawk and Toen’s deal later.

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“Yoohoo.”

“You again!”

Elrenkay manoeuvred himself so he was blocking Icoupewk from my line of sight. I’d never managed to convince him I wasn’t some sort of smooth-talking lecher. So with nothing else to do, I’d fallen into the role.

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“Looking as handsome as ever, Elrenkay. I see your brother has only grown more beautiful since I last saw him.”

Icoupewk squeaked in embarrassment and Elrenkay glared at me even more. The other reason I did this was because it was fun.

“If you’re not here to buy anything, then leave,” the older brother said through gritted teeth. I hadn’t technically done anything wrong so he couldn’t actually kick me out.

“Now, Kay, don’t be rude to our customers,” Bloremks chided. The butcher had turned out to be a burly woman with the same colouring as her sons. “Joan, it’s lovely to see you again. What are you here for?”

“Hello, Bloremks.” I smiled winningly at her. “Arsral wants a large smoked ham for dinner.”

“Having guests over?” she asked.

“Yes, Aunt Detion’s coming over today.”

“Only the best for that lady. Here you go.”

She quickly wrapped up a large smoked ham and set it on the counter. I took it after counting out the right change.

“Thank you.”

I was just about to leave when a familiar face made its appearance.

“Toen!” I said. “What happened? You look like hell.”

He had a black eye and practically limped into the shop. There didn’t seem to be any blood, but he still looked pretty beat up.

“It’s nothing.” Toen waved me off. Was it Mohawk? I wanted to ask what the deal with Mohawk was but this was neither the time nor place.

“Is that boy Bofere harassing you again?” Bloremks was frowning.

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. He does this again and you tell me. We’ll sort him out.”

“I said it’s fine. I’m just here for some ribs.”

“Toen-”

“Bloremks. Please.”

The butcher didn’t look happy, but she dropped the matter and gave Toen what he came for. Toen left. I watched him go.

“So, is Bofere the guy with a blue mohawk who looks angry all the time?” I asked Bloremks.

“That would be him, yes.”

“He came into Cleimeph the other day and told me that Toen killed his father.”

“Not true,” she said firmly. “Frellin was a hero and unfortunately died in the process of saving Toen from monsters.”

“Oh. Phew.”

That was a relief. I wouldn’t have known how to feel if Toen did turn out to be some cold-blooded killer.

“You’d think he’d have come to terms with it by now. Toen was only ten years old when it happened.”

Toen was… nineteen now so…

“He’s held a grudge for nine whole years?!”

“It’s only recently that he started getting physical, but yes.”

I couldn’t even imagine what that was like. Nine years was a long time to me.

At dinner, Aunt Detion said the same thing when I asked her. She also said the NAGOL were working on it and not to worry. I was still a bit concerned, but in the end, I couldn’t really do anything, so I decided to just forget about it and deal with it only if it came my way.

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I was sweeping the store when some adventurers entered the shop. Arsral was the one to greet them.

“Welcome to Cleimeph.”

“Ah, hello. We heard from the guild that this place provides the [Evalute] service?”

“You’ve come to the right place. Joan!”

“Right here!”

I swept (haha) over and took my place behind the counter.

“Hiya, what can I look at for you today?”

The trio of adventurers – two swordsmen and an archer - gave me doubtful looks before looking at each other and shrugging. The tallest one took a vial of golden liquid out of the pack slung over her shoulder.

“We went dungeon diving yesterday and got this. I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“Hm, okay, just gimme a sec…”

I carefully took it from her hands and nudged the System. When the screen popped up, I whistled.

> Vial of Gorgon’s Blood

> A vial of blood taken from the right side of a Gorgon. Blood from the right side is an elixir of life. Blood from the left side is a deadly poison. The more willingly the blood is given, the more potent it is.

“Gorgon’s Blood. From the right side, no less. Where’d you get something like this?”

The adventurers looked at each other before the woman spoke again.

“We found it in a treasure chest in the Lair of the Mad Serpent.”

Dungeons were strange existences. Nobody knew where the dungeon cores came from or why there were things like treasure chests. Traps and puzzles were also common in some of the high levelled ones. There’d been a lot of research done into dungeons, but no major breakthroughs, at least none that were released to the public.

Arswen didn’t bother offering to buy it. Even if they did want to sell something which could bring a recently dead comrade back to life, we’d never be able to afford it.

When I gave the vial back to them, my hand went through the edge of the information box. Immediately a rush of information flooded my head along with a sharp pain.

“Ah-”

“Careful!”

The adventurer caught the vial which slipped from my loose fingers just in time.

“Are you alright?” the archer asked.

I blinked the black spots out of my eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just a sudden headache.”

Arsral said something, but I was too busy with a wetness leaking onto my lip to register his words. I wiped it away with a finger. It was blood.

“You’re bleeding!”

Yes, I am, thanks for noticing.

“Backlash…?” one of them muttered to himself.

“That’s never happened before,” said Arsral. “Joan, go drink a health potion. And take the rest of the day off.”

“Yeah, okay,” I said, still a little disoriented. “That’s a good idea.”

I went into the back and lay down on the sofa, fishing a half-drunk health potion out of my pockets and downing it. My headache disappeared but I still felt a bit lightheaded.

Okay, so no touching the information box unless you want a nosebleed. Or really, really need to know everything about the thing it’s on.

When I’d touched it, I’d suddenly known everything there was to know about it. I knew which gorgon it came from, the chemical composition of the blood, what could be done with it, the whole shebang. I couldn’t retain all the information, of course, but I still suddenly knew a lot more than the words the information box had provided. In fact, I was confident that once [Conjure] was at a high enough level, I could even replicate the blood.

Scary. But enough thinking, naptime now.

I made myself comfortable and dozed off.