Margaret "The other tales never showed us this before. They only recount his rescue of the merchant but never mention the name."

Gala "Indeed, the records of today lack such specificity, my dear. Let us hope it remains that way."

Margaret "But why? The truth should be known to everyone."

Gala "Some stories are best left shrouded in mystery, Margaret. Especially, those involving these two."

Margaret "The Twin Traders, Azan and David! Read the story, Granny! I'm all ears!"

Gala "Haha. David actually likes to call himself Dave by the way. Just a little-known fact. Okay, my dear. You see their beginning wasn't as humble as the others...

In the depths beneath bustling Tradan, an offensive odor awakens two slumbering heroes. Azan's eyes snap open as he leaps to his feet, startled by their surroundings. Fighting back nausea, he spots his partner rolling towards a sewage current. Azan quickly lunges over the current to the other side, catching Dave before he tumbles into the filth. Dave, now awake, lets out a loud yawn and Azan gives him a blank stare.

Azan "How can you yawn in such conditions? The foul air will make you sick."

Dave watches Azan cover his mouth, attempting to fan away the odor.

Dave "Chillax, brother. It's just a sewer. I have gone through this shit multiple times back in high school."

Azan "Why would you do such nasty stuff?"

Dave "It's all for the content, dude."'

Azan "Fine, but can we please leave now?!"

Dave "Would love to, dude. Buuuut... I ain't seeing any ladder here. Looks like we gonna pull a Goonies."

Azan "It was a three out of ten at best."

Dave "What?! Bro, The Goonies was straight fire. You must be thinking of a different flick 'cause there ain't no way I heard that right."

Azan "Let's just look for an exit."

Dave "Right on, Azbro!"

As they continue their journey hugging the wall, hoping for an exit, a sudden commotion grabs their attention— the sound of scurrying. Peering down the tunnel, they witness a swarm of rats hustling past. Upon closer inspection, they notice the rats are transporting an array of curious items... dyes, mechanical parts, paintings, gems, metal bars, and even weapons. One rat, burdened with a sack of spears, struggles to keep pace and stumbles, scattering the spears, some of which tumble into the rapid sewage current heading their way. Dave moves to grab one, but Azan swiftly intervenes, slapping his hand away. The other rats return, appearing to reprimand the troublemaker.

Caught in shame, the rat turns away and notices Dave and Azan, redirecting the horde's attention, their eyes glowing a menacing red.

Dave "Oh fuck! Can't believe we have to kill Master Splinter's relatives, Azbro."

Azan "Take this fight seriously, Dave! Do your powers count the sewer as a room?"

Dave "Nope, looks like we gonna do this the hard way."

Azan leaps across to the other side, causing the group of rats to split, each clutching what appears to be silver spears. Dave quickly assesses their numbers, counting 15 rats advancing towards him. With synchronized determination, they thrust their spears forward, aiming for his stomach, but Dave anticipates their movements and dodges, narrowly avoiding each strike. Undeterred, the rats adjust their strategy, each attempting to target different areas, yet Dave continues to outmaneuver their assaults.

Swiftly, Dave's bat swings forward, ensnaring several rats in a makeshift net. Despite this setback, the resilient creatures persist, stretching their arms as far as possible to reach him. In a surprising turn, one rat manages to land a small cut on the back of Dave's hand. Unfazed, he grins and extends his bat, shaking it vigorously, causing the rats to fall unconscious from the shock.

Azan "Why aren't you killing them?!"

Dave "Aw, come on, dude. These little guys are too cool to be dead."

Azan "Ugh!"

Azan continues to evade the barrage of flying spears, his frustration mounting with each avoided attack. Finally, he reaches his breaking point and charges forward, surrounded by a force field. The rats, sensing his advance, increase their pace, but to their surprise, their spears bounce off Azan's barrier as if they were mere toothpicks. A squeak emits from one rat, and they quickly organize into a disciplined V shape, impressing Azan with their unexpected strategy.

With coordinated precision, the rats hurl their spears toward the center of Azan's force field, shattering it and sending him reeling backward. As the rats prepare for another volley, Azan calculates the distance between them. Seizing the opportunity, he hurls his mechanical soap at the focal point of their formation, creating a bubble that ensnares the rats.

In an instant, Azan's watch transforms into a saber, and with a swift stroke, the rats are cleaved in two.

Dave "Sweet moves, bro. But again... you didn't have to kill them."

Azan "Considering how intelligent these rodents are, I couldn't take any chances. Remember what Neptunez said."

Dave "Which part? The whole creepy baby-eating stuff, the group shit, or the powers that be."

Azan "The powers. I don't believe that these are just smart rats. They seem too organized like as if someone's commanding them from the shadows."

Dave "Well, they were carrying all sorts of junk, bro. Like some scuff Amazon delivery drones."

Azan "Wait! That's it! All those products! Now I'm sure that this is the power of a Traden."

Dave "But why would they attack us, bro?"

Azan "Perhaps to conceal a trade secret, or maybe they were smuggling something illegal amidst the normal products—

Suddenly, a murder of crows emerges from around the corner at the end of the tunnel.

Dave "Ah shit! Get ready, man!"

Azan "Oh for fuck sake!"

The crows converge on the scattered merchandise, mesmerizing the duo as the goods vanish before their eyes. As the flock encircles the fallen rats, they too vanish into thin air. Azan swings his blade, but the agile crows evade and attempt to envelop the saber. Fearing the loss of his saber, he instantly reverts the weapon into a suitcase and steps back, while Dave, realizing the situation, releases the unconscious rats and retreats. With the remaining rats covered by the crows, the birds confront the heroes, causing a tense standoff. Suddenly, a puff of purple smoke envelops the scene, and the crows vanish.

Azan "Well, that confirms it."

Dave "Hey, at least they forgot about the spears."

Azan "Whoever fought us probably decided it wasn't worth the trouble."

He collects all 72 spears, diligently stashing them away in his inventory. Just as he's about to secure the final spear, Dave interrupts, pointing out a peculiar symbol— a tree with humanoid legs. Azan acknowledges the detail before placing the last spear into his inventory. Dave gives him a nod and heads toward the end of the tunnel, discovering an exit around the right corner. Excitedly, Dave waves to Azan, and together they ascend a ladder slightly off to the side.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Emerging from the sewer, they find themselves in a dimly lit back alley littered with bags of decaying fruit, swarming with buzzing flies and Azan's brow rises in confusion.

Azan "Hold on, there are flies... here? Isn't this place supposed to be underwater?"

Dave "Maybe these folks like to live on land and made one of those magic bubble thingies we see in movies, Azbro."

Azan "That could also explain why there was flowing sewage. But why do they choose to live like this?"

?? "Indeed, a fascinating inquiry, my friends."

Startled, they whirl around, weapons at the ready, only to be stunned by the unexpected presence before them.

?? "Fear not, my friends, I come in peace. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Jermana Hindclaw, the most esteemed guide for newcomers to this grand city. And it appears you are not from around here— indeed, not from this planet at all. Quite the rare clientele I say."

The strange Traden standing before them resembles a red humanoid crab, with a head reminiscent of the Earth crustacean. Two large-shelled claws extend from his body, accompanied by ten armored legs protruding from his waist. His torso, covered in thick glossy armor, suggests formidable protection. They marvel at his impressive ten-pack abs and the oversized unbuttoned leather jacket draping half of his legs.

Dave/Azan "Why the leather jacket?"

Jermana "Oh, for the love of the All-Mother! You'd be surprised how many newcomers ask that. Anyway, I'm here to offer my guidance in settling into Tradan, in exchange for anything valuable you might possess."

Azan "Umm... Let me check. Oh, Kanji stashed something into the Universal storage. Let's take two of these."

Jermana "Are those Mostra sugar bubbles?! How did you get them out of thin air?"

Dave "Trade secret, bro."

Jermana "Perhaps a dimensional storage skill. I won't inquire further, out of respect for my clients. I'll gladly accept those two bubbles as payment."

Azan "Agreed, it's been a pleasure doing business with you."

Jermana "Then it's a deal! Follow me!"

The pair stand in awe as Jermana's claws carve a doorway in the fabric of space, forming an entrance. With a gesture, he invites them inside, though they remain cautious of his intentions.

Jermana "Welcome to the Traveler's Basket, where you can learn all you need to know about Tradan without fear of assault or robbery."

They step into a circular room, roughly the size of a large garage. At its center sits a plush red leather sofa, adorned with a diagonal pattern depicting a crab head wearing a tiny hat. Azan takes note of the same symbol adorning the center of a rectangular table, concealed beneath baskets overflowing with various treats. Meanwhile, Dave explores the impeccably clean carpet and wallpaper, both bearing the symbol in a larger size. His attention is drawn to a golden door on the left wall, opposite the entrance.

Jermana "I'm sorry, but that area is reserved for VIPs only. The payment you made isn't quite sufficient."

Dave "Bro, what's the VIP treatment like?"

Jermana "Well, the VIP section mirrors this room's structure, but with fancier furniture, statues, and paintings. Instead of the sofa, there's a hot spring, and I can whip up custom gourmet meals in the kitchen, considering I'm quite the exceptional chef."

Azan "Is this place an entire dimension? Did you make it with powers?"

Jermana "Ah, so the human knows about our abilities. Impressive. But if you want specifics, don't worry, it's all included in my standard deal. However, before we proceed..."

He produces a piece of parchment from beneath his jacket and lays it on the table, prompting Dave and Azan to take a seat.

Azan "Ah, yes, a contract— a standard part of any business transaction."

Jermana "No need to fret, I'm not one of those shady types. The terms are simple... you tell me what you want to accomplish in this city, and I'll provide the necessary guidance as per the requirements of my unique power."

Azan "Uh, I'm not sure what we want to—

Dave "Hey, Crab dude! We want to rule this place!"

Azan "Dave?! What the fuck?!"

Jermana "Err... Sure, why not."

Azan "You don't seem all that surprised."

Jermana "You see, I've been in this line of work for a decade now and I've encountered countless Tradens— heck, even foreign Walterans have tried their hand at seizing control of Tradan. But their grasp was always too feeble... simply too poor to reach the apex. You see, each nation of Wal 'Tera possesses a Power Catalyst that bestows supernatural abilities upon us based on our beliefs, but it also imposes rules derived from those beliefs. So if you aim to take over, you'll need to dominate the economy. Anyone attempting it through other means will be swiftly expelled from Tradan, never allowed to return."

Azan "You heard that, Dave. We can't go in swinging."

Dave "Ah shit, that's lame, bro! I guess I have to tap into some of that business juices I had."

Azan "I didn't know that you had experience."

Dave "Nah, it's more about Gambling, Exploiting, and Stock Market Cryto stuff."

Azan "I'm surprised you haven't been arrested."

Jermana "Sounds like you'd fit right in with Dia'Mo. But before we delve into that, let me elaborate more on our power system. Our nation doesn't have schools— Instead, every child is educated by their parents. So from birth, we're all immersed in the world of business, whether inheriting existing enterprises or creating new ones. Our powers manifest to support our ideal business ventures. However, you must be clear on what you truly desire... otherwise, you risk losing your sanity when switching one too many times. Fortunately for me, I find satisfaction in guiding others because I can also do this!"

With a clap of his hand, the parchment illuminates, lines and colors springing to life to form intricate buildings and landmarks.

Azan "Amazing, it's like a 3D map!"

Dave "Why does Tradan look like an upside-down fan, Crab bro?"

Jermana "Ah, that's due to the Reckoning and some technical mumbo-jumbo. It's not really important! What matters is that I can create maps that are indestructible as long as I'm alive and well. As for your payment, this map will only display accommodations and shops in Tradan, along with any updates to those locations by tapping your finger on those colored circles."

Azan "Green for beds and yellow for shops, easy enough to remember."

Dave "Yo, what's this stamp here?"

Jermana "Ah, that's the best part. This map also functions as a communication device and is compatible with all sorts of other devices in Tradan through exchanging stamps. Mine is a crab head with a tiny hat— Embarrassing, I know, but once you obtain a blank stamper, it'll generate your own unique stamp. There is no way to change it."

Azan "So, we can contact you by pressing this stamp. But where can we get blank stampers for ourselves?"

Jermana "I do have some spare ones, but it will cost you two extra—

Azan pulls out two more sugar bubbles, causing Jermana's mandible to drop in shock.

Jermana "You had more?!"

Azan "A good businessman never reveals his cards."

Jermana "Damn, quite cheeky. Here are the blank stampers."

Dave "Bro, had them in his pocket the whole time."

Jermana "No, I can teleport anything I own in this space."

Azan "Is it okay to tell us that?"

Jermana "Oho, of course! I have a feeling that we'll make great business partners."

A shiver runs down Azan's spine as they both accept the seemingly ordinary stampers. Almost immediately, the color of the stampers begins to change to match their preferences— black for Azan and red for Dave. Azan gazes into the reflective surface of his stamper, watching as a symbol begins to take shape... a yellow crescent covering an eye, with an equal sign serving as the pupil. Dave observes his stamper as well, seeing a symbol materialize— a bird's head wearing sunglasses, adorned with a necklace featuring 2 ornate six-sided dice.

Jermana waves his hand, summoning a plain black notebook, which he quickly scrolls through before presenting a blank page to them.

Azan "You're making quite the effort in hiding your contacts."

Jermana "There are many reasons to be careful."

The two dealers exchange knowing smiles as Azan stamps the top of the page and Dave casually follows up.

Jermana "With this, contact is inevitable, my human friend. Now, it's time to fulfill my end of the deal before we part ways. Pay close attention."

As Jermana speaks, the letter "Y" forms at the center of the map, dividing it into three diamond-shaped sections.

Jermana "Let's begin with Dia'Co, located on the left diamond, which is where we currently find ourselves. Some may refer to it as the slums— a place where failed businesses and the poor gather. Those residing here are often desperate but lack the strength to resort to extreme measures for their enterprises. It's a haven for scavengers, farmers, and beggars."

His right claw reaches for a skull-shaped candy and munches on it.

Jermana "Moving on to Dia'Ro, situated on the right diamond. Here, Tradens are willing to do whatever it takes to ensure the success of their businesses, even if it means crossing moral boundaries. This area is notorious for slavers, blackmailers, dealers of dangerous goods and information, producers of experimental products, organ traders, and a lot of weapon merchants."

His left reaches stirs through the basket and finds a chocolate before devouring it whole.

Jermana "Lastly, we have Dia'Mo, positioned at the top diamond. Tradens here thrive on half-truths, blending scams with legitimate offerings. Only those adept at discerning the difference can truly prosper in that cursed place. Think casinos, stock markets, deadly games of chance— you name it."

Azan "Chance, effort, and failure. The Three Outcomes. My father used to repeat that to me all the time."

Dave "This is cool and all but where is the head huncho, Crab bro."

Jermana "That would be Lord Pleon and his four lackeys. They occupy the square formation of skyscrapers you see there in the middle of Dia'Mo. Legend has it that long ago, four kingpins ruled over Dia'Mo for decades until Pleon came along and did something to them. Now, they're merely his puppets."

Azan "It's impressive that he managed to take them down indirectly. It suggests his business is substantial enough to threaten them or that he used some form of blackmail."

Jermana "Those are just two of the many rumors going around. To this day, no one knows the truth. Anyway, that wraps up our deal. Oh! I almost forgot! First-timers get a complimentary king-sized bed to rest for a day."

Dave "Well, we did fight a bunch of rats with spears. I could get a bit of shut-eye."

Jermana "Rats with Spears?Ummm.... interesting. I'd like to hear more about that tomorrow. Have a good night. I'll be in the VIP room. If you need anything, just have a knock."

With that, Jermana exits the room, leaving the two heroes to settle onto opposite sides of the bed.

Azan "This bed is unexpectedly comfortable and soft. Hey, Dave. Do you think we can trust him?"

Dave "He did give us some cool info. Just relax and get some sleep, man."

Azan "..."

He closes his eyes and soon drifts off into a peaceful slumber.