Margaret "Granny... That was really boring!"
Gala "What do mean, my dear?"
Margaret "I was hoping Kanji would fight them off, maybe even defeat a few. I didn't expect him to just give in like that!"
Gala "Sometimes, the strong must follow the rules, especially in new lands. Personally, I find his decision quite rational."
Margaret "Yeah, I get how the higher-ups act, even now. I just wanted to hear some action."
Gala "Not to worry, this next act will have a bit of bloodshed. Can you handle it?"
Margaret "Granny, you brought me to see five executions this year. Of course, I can handle it!"
Gala "Perhaps that was a mistake on my part. I just wanted to teach you the harshness of this world, and now look at you. So tough and hardly cute anymore."
Margaret puffs out her cheeks and gives her grandma a pair of pleading puppy eyes.
Margaret "Hey, I'm still cute."
Gala "Oh, I was just teasing. Are you ready to move on?"
Margaret "Heck yeah. The business bros! Let's go!"
Gala "Odd nickname, but let's continue...
Despite the absence of sunlight, a laid-back young man stirs from his cozy bed. A peculiar, anomalous warmth envelops his body, almost as if visible strands of sunlight are piercing the bland purple ceiling. A strange sound of scribbling catches his attention, prompting Dave to glance to his right. There, two desks hum in sync, one occupied by his partner in crime. He notices his friend's tousled hair and sighs before rising from his bed. After a quick wash with a mechanical soap, he strides over to Azan.
Dave "Yo, bro. Were you up all night, my guy?"
Azan "Yeah, I can't trust that shifty crab merchant, especially since we're in his territory."
Dave "Bro, that guy was chill, and look... nothing happened."
Azan "Yeah, I was surprised too. I didn't sense him approaching us all night."
Dave "Chillax, okay? Just think about this for a second, bro."
Azan "I'm listening."
Dave "According to Jermanabro, the folks in this city gain powers from their biz and stuff. So, their powers should reflect that. If he were to backstab us, I’d expect his abilities to be more sneaky like a ninja."
Azan "That... makes a lot of sense. I have to admit, you're smart sometimes, Dave."
Dave "Ouch, feeling the burn right here, bro. Anyway, what ya up to?"
Azan "I’m drafting a list of strategies for tackling this city."
Dave "Planning? Bro, that's so lame! I say we just yolo it!"
Azan "I figured you'd say that, so I included some flexible options for you to do your thing. I’m not a total control freak."
Dave "Sheesh, that's pog. Should we head out now? This purple-ass room is making me want to bite a chunk out of the floor."
Jermana "Gentlemen, as grand and magnificent as my room is, it is not meant for consumption."
Dave "Jermana, my dude— Wait... are those clothes? Are they drippy?"
Jermana "Yes, consider them a token of my gratitude for the sugar bubbles you gifted me yesterday. I have made quite the fortune."
Azan "Red and blue tuxedoes, sleek black pants, and black shirts. That's a style that never crossed my mind but it would look cool."
Dave "Bro, did you raid the TF3 wardrobe."
Jermana "The what?"
Azan "Just ignore that. Do you have matching ties? or shoes?"
Jermana "I have these exotic ones and some polished black shoes."
Azan "Good enough. I’ll go with blue, and Dave, you take red."
Dave "Aww, sweet bro! That’s my favorite color!"
Jermana "Do you gentlemen need some privacy to change? I can step out."
Dave "Nah, all good, bro. Check this out!"
With a snap of their fingers, the new clothes vanish into their inventory. Then, they snap again—
Jermana sees a subtle flash of light and flinches his crabby eyes. As the light fades, his pupils widen to see his guests transformed in their new attire. Azan now sports a blue tuxedo with a black inner shirt and blue pants. Around his neck, a blue tie with a platinum metal emblem adorns the knot, displaying the symbol of a skull biting down on a contract. His pants and boots remain the same sleek shade of black, but now appear even more polished and clean. Dave stands to his right, his outfit mirroring Azan’s like a red shadow, though his emblem is made of gold and features a skull biting on a lever.
Jermana "You fellas look absolutely marvelous and professional! Just like the folk in Dia'Mo"
Azan "I have a strange feeling we’d get robbed walking around in Dia'Co in this fashion."
Jermana "Oh, All-Mother, no! The folks here are too cowardly to even try. Dia'Ro, however, is more likely."
Azan "You wouldn't happen to have any masks or hats we could borrow?"
Jermana "Trying to stay anonymous? That's clever, just as I expected from a fellow businessman. I do have a couple of masks and two hats."
Dave "Yo, is that a red fedora?! I call dips!"
Azan "Guess I'll go with the blue top hat."
They inspect the selection of masks Jermana laid out on the floor, instinctively reaching for one each.
Jermana "Excellent choice, gentlemen. Anything else you might need?"
Azan "Tell me more about Wal'Tera's currency."
Dave "Ah yeah, let's hear some dough talk."
Jermana "Very well. Every nation uses the same universal currency called gold fins. Physically, they come in four coin types, each with a shark fin on one side and a shark tooth on the other. First, the yellow coin equals 1 gold fin. The red coin equals 10 gold fins. The green coin equals 100 gold fins. The purple coin equals 1,000 gold fins. However, I recommend opening a bank account as it is more secure, though there will be a lot of paperwork."
Azan "I see. I was expecting a variety of currencies. It makes sense for a more developed planet. I have one more favor to ask. Do you have a list of market prices for various items?"
Jermana "Damn, that is one huge favor which your payment doesn't—
Dave "Yo, here's the rest of them sugar bubbles bro!"
Azan "Dave! You can't just give all of them away! What if the others need it?!"
Dave "It's okay, it will be fine. True me, Azbro."
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Jermana "Good thing that five of these bubbles would suffice. Hand over your map."
Azan lays the map on the floor, and Jermana scratches the top right corner of the parchment, creating a row of musical notes.
Azan "What did you do?"
Jermana "I imported all the market knowledge I have into that corner. It will also update based on my current market intel. Just hover your hand over it when you need the information. Now, you both need to leave. I hope you enjoyed Jermana's Grand Guide to Tradan! Have a nice day!"
With a snap of his claws, the floor opens beneath them, and they fall into a familiar alleyway.
Dave "Dude didn't even bother giving us a proper exit."
Azan "We can worry about that later. We have a bigger problem. These letters... no, music notes. I can't read them. I can guess the numbers next to them are prices, but that's useless now. Damn, we forgot to ask him how to read this language."
Dave "Oh yeah bro, I also saw some of them tiny music notes on those spears we looted."
Azan "You only telling me this now?! How did you even notice that?!"
Dave "Habit, dude. I like to remember small and useless things. What now?"
Azan "I have an idea but it may cost me both of my charges."
Dave "Go for it, it's all or nothing."
Azan "Fine, looks like we have no choice. Okay, I want you to stand directly to my right and look at this map."
Dave "Got it, bro. What's next?"
Azan "Just keep your eyes on those music notes."
Dave focuses and Azan begins to imagine...
Dave "Yo, bro, What the fuck?! I can understand it now! How did you do that?"
Azan "I visualized your perspective on the music notes, then imagined the notes switching back and forth to letters. I also combined it with the thought of you being a native of Wal'Tera. I must say... it was quite the gamble."
Dave "Yo, I told you gambling is worth it, my dude!"
Azan "It only worked because of a bit of logic and imagination. Nevertheless, it was a gamble, so I'll give you that one. Now it's my turn."
Using the same method, Azan's mind transforms into that of a native, allowing him to effortlessly skim through the list of market items. Feeling satisfied, the pair exit the alleyway and step into a bustling street lined with stalls selling farm goods. As they walk, the locals eye them with a mix of jealousy, anger, and fear. Dave notices a few homeless individuals approaching them and alerts Azan. They sprint away, escaping to a quieter part of the city, arriving at a circle with an old fountain. Nearby, a couple of tourists toss money to groups of performers.
Dave "Bro, is that guy riding a tricycle on a tricycle?! That's so sick!"
Azan "Keep your eyes open, Dave. We need to find a p— There!"
He points to a store with a sign teetering on the brink of falling.
Dave "Bro, that looks sketchy as hell. Should we go in?"
Azan "Before that, Let's discuss our plan."
Dave "Sure, lay it on me, dude."
Azan "I propose we aim to establish three businesses, one in each territory. These ventures will be flexible, meaning they won't be fixed locations, allowing us to easily manage and monitor them."
Dave "So, we're like traveling merchants? Got it!"
Azan "In a sense, yes. But for now, let's focus on the business for Dia'Co. Dave, what do you think our greatest asset is at the moment?"
Dave "Assets? You mean like the stuff we own? Well, looking at our inventory, we've got a ton of stuff, and if we include Claire's creation shenanigans, we pretty much have everything."
Azan "That's true, but we can't rely on her 24/7. So, our current biggest assets are our powers and weapons. They're resources that can never run out... well, except for my change slots, but you get the idea."
Dave "So, are we more like mercenaries or... Wait, are you suggesting we steal stuff? That's out of pocket, man."
Azan "No, of course not, unless it's from the wicked ones. Like those rats from yesterday. They seemed pretty organized, so I'm guessing they're being controlled from the shadows. Considering they chose the sewers to transport goods, it's safe to assume they were smuggling them. I bet you whoever's in charge is from Dia'Ro."
Dave "The big bad from the big bad land. So we gonna steal, I understand."
Azan "Nice rhythm. Since whoever it is, knows that we're in Dia'Co, they can't directly interfere in this territory because their business is too big and might be vulnerable to attacks from rivals if they leave. We'll exploit the fact that they're likely to send goons or more animals after us, now that we know about their trade."
Dave "Then we beat them up, take their shit and sell it."
Azan "We'll sell it at three times less than the market price to avoid crashing Dia'Co's economy, but still maintain our position as the top business due to the desirability of our goods."
Dave "Bro, that is a big brain move. Okay, let's do it."
The door to the old pawn shop swings open, alerting the shopkeeper from his slumber. An old, crooked Traden peers over the counter, revealing the grey head of an angler fish with an eye patch. Sweat beads down the side of his face at the sight before him— a pair of uncommon customers, one has a white mask with a red poker face painted on, and the other has the white mask but is adorned with a blue smiley face, revealing sharp teeth.
??? "G-G-Good morning, dear customers."
Azan "Greetings. You seem a little shaken. Not to worry, we're here with a very exclusive offer for you."
??? "O-Offer, w-what kind?"
Azan reaches into the air and pulls out 72 silver spears, neatly arranging them on the desk.
??? "Wow! These spear designs are amazing! But... how much are you selling them for?"
Azan "We'll be selling them for—
Dave "Don't worry, I got this!"
Azan ["The fuck are you doing?!"]
Dave winks and produces a normal Earth coin from his pocket.
??? "I've never seen a coin like that before."
Dave "That's because it's used to play a very simple game. Choose heads or tails."
??? "Err... head? What's the point?"
Dave "If this coin lands on tails, then we'll sell these for 60 gold fins. Otherwise, we'll only sell them for 10 gold fins."
??? "I knew Tradens from Dio'Mo would be like this. Fine, I guess I can test my luck."
Dave smiles from under his mask and flips the coin... it lands on tails.
Dave "Welp, too bad. You better honor your end of the deal."
??? "Y-Y-Yes, sir! I'll get the money!"
The old angler scoops the spears from his counter and retrieves a bag of coins from the cabinet.
Dave "Seriously? You're paying us with regular yellow coins?"
??? "Sorry the people here tend to stick to the basic currency—
Out of nowhere, the sound of screeching birds pierces the room, causing everyone to cover their ears. The window bursts open, and a flock of blackbirds with gills and fins for tails, each grasping silver daggers with six talons, swarms in. Their intrusion is followed by an orchestra of screams as a couple of decapitated heads fly through the windows, painting the floor in blood with their exposed vertebrae. The pawn owner throws up and begins to cry in terror.
Dave "Shopkeeper! Pull yourself together, man. We'll protect you!"
Returning to his senses, the shopkeeper tries to open the back door, but a cluster of daggers pierces halfway through from the other side, striking him in the head and heart.
Azan "Shit! I didn't expect the big bad guy to be this direct!"
Dave "Enough talking and let's kill these bitches!"
The number of birds skyrockets, and they hawk in unison before hurling all their knives at Dave. Azan dashes in front of him and activates his force field, easily blocking the attacks. However, before the knives hit the ground, the creatures swoop in and catch them, surrounding the shield like a tornado. They slice over and over at the shield, gradually cracking and weakening it. Dave tries to activate his power, but this place doesn't count as a room. He stares at the broken windows in frustration and looks at the floor coated in a layer of dried blood... an idea forms in his head.
Focusing on his power, his bat extends and knocks some of the crows away before reaching the entrance. The end of the bat's head flattens and expands just enough to cover the windows on each side.
Azan "Holy shit! That worked!"
Dave "Fuck yeah it did! Check this out!"
His powers detect that the place now counts as a room, and Dave sees that the daggers of the crows are identical. With a smile under his mask, Dave slams his hands together, causing the daggers to shake and the birds to pause their attack.
Dave "UNO!"
The creatures are shredded into pieces as countless daggers shuffle and fly toward them, cutting flesh, scales, feathers, and bones until nothing remains but a pile of feathers and blood in a circle around them.
Azan "That was impressive, though all the goods are ruined now because of that ability."
Dave "Hey, we're alive, aren't we? Let's go save some peeps."
They sprint out of the pawn shop and see that the city circle is covered in the corpses of both tourists and locals. The only ones remaining are the performers and two Tradens hiding in makeshift barricades made from chairs and tables, resembling a small and scuff house. The pair splits up— Azan's force field transforms into a saber as he leaps into the air, dispatching the seven birds attacking the performers with a single slash, ending their stalemate. Frightened but thankful, the performers bow toward Azan before sprinting away as Azan collects the daggers.
Meanwhile, Dave reaches the remaining four birds on the brink of destroying the barricade. His bat transforms into a spiked whip and lacerates three of them. The last bird turns its attention to him and tosses its daggers...
Dave dodges, but the attack comes in two volleys, catching him off guard, and three daggers hit his right arm. Despite the pain, he maintains his grip and takes another swing, splitting the creature in two.
Azan "Good work, Dave. Need some help with those knives?"
Dave "Nah, man, I've got this. Check this out."
He grabs the handles of the daggers, and they shrink, falling out of the wound. Azan grabs three bandages from the storage and covers Dave's arm. From behind the barrier, a female and male Traden emerge. They are dressed in farmer-like attire and have the bodies of humanoid lobsters.
Male Traden "Thank you, good sirs."
Female Traden "However, can we repay you?"
Dave "Do you dudes know of any good inns or hotels?"
Azan "Yeah, I could use a bit of rest."
Male Traden "Actually, my wife and I run a small inn just over there. We'll give our saviors free rooms for life."
The couple guides Dave and Azan to the inn, which has a cowboy aesthetic, and leads them upstairs to a spacious but simple room.
Dave "Two huge ass beds, two cabinets, and we have our own bathrooms. We scored big time, Azbro."
Azan "Yeah... hey, when you flipped the coin, did you change the counter surface so it would land on tails?"
Dave "Bro, how in the fuck did you notice that?!"
Azan "I don't know, maybe I have a knack for noticing small and useful stuff."
Dave "Bruh, there ain't no way you're copying and one-up me. How many knives did we loot?"
Azan "60 silver knives. Their market price is 40 gold fins, which is 20 lower than those spears."
Dave "Should we go back and take them? I mean, the owner is dead and shit, bro."
Azan "No, we must honor the trade— Oh, hold on, what the hell is this stamp?"
Dave "Don't know, but it looks like a thunderbolt. Let's check it out!"
Dave reaches to hover their hands over the stamp, and a chat box opens up with familiar texts...