Chapter 104: Beefeater

I had a few goals in mind, beyond just getting up to date with the daily news. Investigating what passed for financial services was a must, if only to pay homage to my long and distinguished career back on Earth. A visit to the Church of the System would also be helpful, to get access to better methods of long distance communication. Magic in general also remained an attractive prospect; even if I wouldn’t get the full benefit from it, not being a Mage myself, even learning a few cantrips would be well worth the return on investment. That said, there was one immediate barrier to my ambitions: I was broke; the last of my inheritance had been spent fending off a horse demon, the coins I threw being left in such condition as to make reuse impossible, neither as a weapon nor as currency. More annoyingly, my Covenants meant that I couldn't just borrow a few Gilt from Harvey or Kyle, so this was something I needed to solve by myself.

To begin with, I made a show of window shopping, slipping into the role of a country bumpkin visiting the big city for the first time. It wasn’t hard at all, because I was genuinely interested in the variety of services on offer, so my gawking was mostly natural, albeit slightly exaggerated for effect. Some were identical to those on Earth, like the estate agent offering rooms for rent, starting from fifty Gilt a month for a cot inside someone’s broom closet, and going all the way up to five hundred a month for a luxury townhouse with a cook, maid and nanny included in the price. Others were a strange blend of new and familiar, like the apothecary’s shop; a small nook in the corner of the street, offering familiar household remedies such as cough syrup, lozenges for the sore throat and an impressive array of herbal teas, alongside holy water capable of repelling monsters and talismans of exorcism to deal with unwanted spirits.

I stayed at each shop just long enough to take in the sights, leaving before the shopkeep got annoyed or attempted to engage me in conversation. Eventually, I made it to the nearest eatery, a joint carvery and butcher that proudly advertised ‘the freshest cuts in the city’. It was absolutely packed, with two long lines running from the counter all the way out into the street, as men and women from across the district waited (im)patiently for some food to go. The atmosphere was remarkably relaxed given the events of just a day prior; people were hungry and impatient, but not any more tense or fearful than the average Londoner after a long morning of work. The lunch queue was likewise a familiar sight to me, but it had been many years since I saw one this long; delivery services had taken a big bite out of the food-to-go market in London, something that evidently didn’t exist in Heaven’s Reach. Briefly, I considered the pros and cons of starting a local variant of Uber Eats; was there a way to integrate a delivery app into the System?

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

If so, the cost savings would be immense, because there would be no need to develop separate infrastructure menus, maps, telephone or text; everything could be deployed through the System that every sentient being already possessed, a captive market that put motorway service stations and airport kiosks to shame. It was a heady vision, but one that was far beyond my reach for the time being, so I set it aside in favour of a more achievable goal: pickpocketing. That was why I picked an eatery, my stomach notwithstanding; it was a volume business, sustained by larger numbers of low value transactions, more often than not in cash. Accordingly, all I had to do was glue myself to the meat counter closest to the cashier, pretending to be fixated on the cold cuts sitting on piles of ice. From there, I let my eyes relax, enough to maximise my peripheral vision, and whenever someone came up to pay, I reached out with my inventory, stole into their coin pouch and took a little bit off the top.

[1 Gild stored.

1 Gild stored.

1 Gild stored.]

I only took from those with full coin pouches, and only a single coin from each of my victims at that; there was no need to get greedy, nor to risk the attention of the poor misers who counted every coin as a matter of course. Turnover was quick, as expected of what was effectively a fast food counter for the busy white collar crowd; in little more than ten minutes, I’d taken a good thirty Gilt for myself.

[20 XP for stealing people’s lunch money.]

The experience was great as well, though I suspected I only got it because the System thought I was funny, rather than for any great achievement on my part. Still, it was enough to take me from destitute to over half of the inheritance Will’s parents had left behind after years of toil for the state, proving once again that crime was clearly the best way to make a living.

“Hey, stop that!”

I looked up after my thirtieth mark, feeling a conspicuous lightness on my head. Sure enough, Pumpkin had gotten tired of playing second fiddle to my success, and decided to jump over the counter to claim his own portion of the spoils. It was impressive, watching a house cat on the small side of the species devour an entire rump steak in a single bite.

“You’re paying for that,” the Butcher deadpanned, though to his credit he didn’t try to pick Pumpkin up, saving himself from a painful and potentially fatal injury.

I tossed him the latest of my ill-gotten gains, and that was the end of the matter; he wasn’t looking for trouble after all, and I doubted he got paid well enough to risk his life against a stranger.

“I’ll take a roast beef sandwich to go,” I added, because if he was watching me anyway, why not take the opportunity to cut the line?