Glenn stood there as he couldn’t help but stare at the tiny man before him, dumbfounded. Rusty Stoneheart crossed his arms while sizing him up and down. He nodded, not giving Glenn a chance to recover his senses, before reaching for a measuring tape. He climbed onto a stool to begin taking measurements, grunting as he did so.

“Hmf…It’s always to work with tall ones…” Rusty groaned as he forced Glenn to turn around.

The latter finally shook off his confusion as he took a quick step back, "W...Wait! I didn't ask for anything yet!"

Stoneheart paused, his eyebrows furrowed, "What, aren't you here for a new suit? Even if you prefer the tattered style, that's a bit much, hah!"

Glenn paused for an instant as he looked down at his ripped pants, blooded coat, and missing shirt, and grimaced. It was that apparent that he needed new clothes, huh?

“Raise your arms for a second…?” Rusty prompted him, continuing forward with his measurements. Glenn silently complied, assuming various positions depending on the shopkeeper’s needs. Eventually, after a few nods of approval, Rusty stepped down from his stool and freed Glenn from the measuring seance.

“...’Aight, I got pretty much everything I needed. Now, I see you have a sword with you. What kind of armor do you want?” Rusty asked, his arms crossed. Glenn moistened his lips and bobbed his head to the side.

“I do use a sword, but I’m more of a mage…Something fairly light so I can dodge around easily would be nice.”

Rusty scoffed, “Everyone wants light armor these days…” He turned away and grumbled in his beard, “No one wants cool plate armor anymore…”

Glenn smiled wryly and watched as the shopkeeper disappeared into the back of the shop, rummaging for something. Glenn wandered toward the counter, observing the diverse array of items displayed on numerous tables and racks. Weapons of various kinds, from simple swords and bows to more exotic crafts like flamberges, chakrams, and war scythes… There were also staves embedded with various Shards, even though there was a small tag beneath it that read “Consumable”. Glenn remembered the Fire Staff he used against the Scarecrows of the Fields and grimaced.

‘...I don’t think I will use one of those again,’ He thought, before looking to the other side of the shop, the armor section. It was impressively stocked with breastplates crafted from various metals and even materials from otherworldly creatures. As Glenn ran his hand along a scaled armor, he involuntarily withdrew it when he felt a peculiar warmth emanating from the armor, almost as if it were...alive. But also very restraining to wear.

His thoughts were disrupted by the tiny man thrusting his head through the door, his voice booming.

"YOU SAID YOU WERE A MAGE, RIGHT?"

Glenn nodded, grimacing as the thunderous voice assailed his eardrums. He still struggled to get used to the contrast between Rusty's size and his... explosive voice. A scraping sound emanated from the back shop as Rusty hauled what appeared to be a stone-carved chest. Gasping for breath, the shopkeeper wiped the sweat from his forehead and opened the chest before Glenn. Inside lay fabric as dark as the night, waiting to be fashioned into clothing. Rusty turned to Glenn, a wide grin stretching across his bearded face.

“How’s the color? You like it?”

Glenn hesitated and rubbed his chin, trying to picture himself wearing something carved out of that fabric. Black did seem to suit him, but he didn't wish to appear as though he were attending a funeral every day. Moreover, he needed something durable for combat, and he doubted this fabric would withstand the wear and tear he'd encounter.

"I'm sorry, but I intend to always wear the clothes I'm getting, so I was hoping for something a bit more resilient, and a bit less... sinister? That can be used in daily life, in some way." He said with a sheepish grin as he scratched the back of his neck.

Rusty froze momentarily, then threw his head back as he burst into hearty laughter. Glenn regarded him with a puzzled expression, waiting for the tiny shopkeeper to regain his composure. Wiping away tears of mirth, Rusty Stoneheart shook his head with an even wider smile.

"Fear not, dear client. This fabric – or rather, silk – is produced by the Nightweaver Spiders beyond the Black Wall. It's as sturdy as steel, remarkably flexible, and exceptionally enchantable. Of course, it won't shield you from blunt force, but it will resist cuts and tears quite impressively. And don't worry, I can dye it to make it a bit more lively if that's your concern."

The shopkeeper beamed with pride at the contents of the stone chest, his arms crossed.

"I've had this for a while but couldn't use it due to the remote chance of a Blood Moon. You see, Night Silk becomes as frail as regular fabric under the Blood Moon's light. But now that the event has passed, it's safe to use Night Silk once more."

Glenn's eyes gleamed as he gazed at the silk within the stone chest. He then regarded the shopkeeper with a feigned unconcern.

"So, how much would a suit made of this cost?"

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The smile on Rusty's face suddenly took on a mischievous tone, causing Glenn some discomfort. The tiny shopkeeper rubbed his hands together as greed seemed to twinkle in his eyes. "Well, if I were to craft a splendid suit befitting a prestigious mage like yourself, it would be worth... that much...?"

Glenn struggled to prevent his face from contorting in shock. This... this price was exorbitant! A quick check of his dimensional pouch revealed that he possessed only twelve silver and forty copper coins. This was nowhere near enough to cover the price Rusty demanded of it.

“Can—can you give me a second to think about this…?” Glenn forced a polite smile out, witnessing in real-time Rusty’s expression break down in disappointment. He turned back and sat on one of the benches present in the shop, pondering what to do. Having a cool suit made out of that fabric felt like an excellent idea, even more so if it could protect him like a light-medium leather armor.

‘But…I don’t even have one gold, how can I pay THAT MUCH for armor?’ Glenn thought in despair as he hid his face in his hands.

Diamanes sighed, ‘Your armor is the last thing that will save you from death. You can never overspend on good steel. Well, good fabric, in this case. Even though I would recommend a complete plate armor.’

Glenn moistened his lips, thinking. He searched his dimensional pouch for alternative resources, hoping he could maybe trade something expensive enough to pay Rusty. He found a medley of items – archaeology tools from Howard, his family signet ring, a map, and a wanted poster, but nothing worth enough money to cover the cost of the suit.

Suddenly, his mental gaze froze on a small item that he had completely forgotten existed. A pitch-black pearl was sitting in a corner of the dimensional storage, inspiring a strange sense of dread. It was the item that was waiting at the bottom of the life-force-sucking whirlwind back in the Accumulator's room of the Thorns Church prison.

Rusty's hopeful voice interrupted his contemplation. "You know, you can also pay with contribution points!"

Glenn hesitantly took the pearl out of his dimensional pouch, eyeing it with suspicion. He showed it to the shopkeeper, who inexplicably fell silent upon beholding the pearl.

"Would...Would this be acceptable?" He asked with a sheepish grin.

The tiny man remained still, not moving for a few moments, his expression devoid of emotion. He then retrieved a magnifying glass and a white crystal from the counter, extending his hand toward Glenn, who handed over the pearl.

Rusty scrutinized the object from every angle before placing it beside the crystal. Within seconds, the crystal assumed a deep, unnatural green hue, reminiscent of death. It unsettled Glenn as much as the pearl itself, prompting him to avert his gaze. Rusty, however, appeared unfazed, continuing to observe the item without uttering a word. After a brief pause, he returned the pearl to Glenn.

"Listen, honestly, this...this item is worth far more than a custom suit, no matter how expensive its material is. The thing is that I'm uncertain whether I can accept it or not."

Glenn looked at the pearl, puzzled. He knew it was a special item, but he didn't know if it was actually worth something. He mainly picked it up because he wanted to flip those cultist bastards over.

"Why not? I doubt I have any use for it."

Rusty stroked his beard in silence, casting an apprehensive gaze upon the pearl.

"Because it's beyond my expertise to handle such items. Tell you what, give me a moment." Without awaiting Glenn's response, Rusty retreated to the back shop, closing the door behind him. Glenn found himself alone in the shop, bewildered and contemplating the enigmatic pearl. He gave it a closer glance, wondering what could have shocked Rusty so much.

Glenn hadn't had the chance to do so previously and now seemed as good a time as any. Staring into the abyss of the pearl's darkness, he noticed something stirring within.

He stepped back in surprise, before regaining his composure and peering back into the pearl, determined to discern its secrets. Strangely, he felt that with a bit more effort, he could uncover whatever lay concealed within the ominous darkness. Something…something that would change his life forever.

The obscurity moved once more, slowly and insidiously, as though a sentient entity was trapped inside the pearl, gradually awakening. The eerie sensation emanating from the pearl filled Glenn with dread, yet he continued to gaze intently. He believed that further scrutiny would reveal the truth hidden behind the malevolent darkness. He just needed a little more...just a bit more…

ALERT!!! YOUR SOUL'S ON THE RUN, GLENN!"

Diamanes' urgent voice snapped Glenn out of his fixation, though he couldn't bring himself to respond. His attention remained fixed on the pearl, driven by an overwhelming compulsion to unveil its secrets. Losing his focus was not an option; what if he missed something crucial? He simply needed to look a bit more...

'IDIOT!!! IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT!!!'

The words from his talking hand echoed in Glenn's mind, a relentless cacophony that ultimately shattered his concentration. Frustrated, Glenn retorted at Diamanes.

'Damnit, you damned hand! I was that close to–'

'To what?' Diamanes interrupted, his voice seething with anger, 'Whatever you were doing, it almost took your soul away!'

'What?'

Rusty suddenly reappeared, his face paling upon seeing Glenn's complexion. The young man's skin had taken on a gray color, and big dark circles had appeared under his now tired eyes, while his cheeks had become slightly hollow. A lock in the middle of his hair had turned as white as chalk. It was a stark contrast to how the young Fixer looked earlier.

"Hey... You didn't look inside that thing, did you?" Rusty asked in disbelief as he instinctively took a step back and pressed something under the counter.

Glenn looked at him, gulping upon seeing the seriousness on the shopkeeper's face.

"What...What if I did?"

Rusty Stoneheart hid his face in his hands, rubbing it a few times, before taking a stool to step at Glenn's height. In a very dramatic way, he grabbed the young man's shoulder and looked at him with pity, "Don't worry, you'll be fine. It's going to be a quick, painless death,” He promised.

'That's...not ominous at all? In what mess have I gotten myself into again?' Glenn sweated anxiously.

Diamanes sighed in his mind.

'You damned fool...'