In a different world I was reincarnated as a talented and beautiful person or so I wished to say even though those words were far from honest in reality. I did get myself killed by crossing the road in an illegal way for the first time in my whole life and I did get reincarnated in a world of sword and magic, but rather than starting my life anew in either a noble household, surrounded by wealth and such, or in an ordinary family of commoners, I turned out to be not quite human. In other words I became some kind of a bipedal lizard in a family of other bipedal lizards that were known primarily as merchants and craftsmen.

If you weren't able to guess, my species served as those kind of characters that usually buy raw resources from adventurers and sell them better weapons and armor. In our culture, owning a shop of your own was apparently some kind of a rite of passage, and adventurers were akin to demigods because of their battle prowess and more importantly because of their money. I should have told this before, but the only god my people believe in is money and money only. If you're poor, then you are as good as dead.

In the beginning, every youngster starts with a miniature shop at the outskirts of the country, selling cheap goods for a reasonable price to all kinds of country bumpkins, while also making sure they know what end of the blade is for stabbing and whatnot. In short, the bottom line to gain experience. And since only other lizard people can tell each other apart, swapping places with your little cousins or such is a child’s play.

“I tell you this sword is broken. It doesn't even cut anything!” I am actually more of a strange family weirdo no one wants to talk about because I don't migrate closer to the capital located in the center of country. It’s not like I am so bad at being a shop-keeper, though. I simply don't see any point in doing a useless thing like this. I earn enough not to worry about food or other necessities and I am not particularly interested in gaining more than I have now. I learned this all after abandoning my previous life as a white collar worker and I sure as hell don't want to repeat that again.

If you think I am horrible for not caring about my parents, then I should point that I have eleven brothers and sisters, all of whom turned out pretty successful on their own. “I demand a refund… or another sword!” I sadly still have to take care of troublesome customers from time to time. If customers are gods, I am fine being an unrepentant heathen.

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“I already told you that my policy on refunds is a solid no. I don't do charity either, so this is a second no this day.” I made a shooing gesture with my hand, prompting the customer to bother someone else. It was too early to trouble myself with this idiot. “Is this how this shop treats its precious customers?!”

I glared - which I really wasn't, but being a walking lizard and all, nearly all of my expressions looked like I was royally pissed off at something - and tried to reply in a way that was not sarcastic or offensive or a mix of both. “Is there some kind of a problem with my goods, dear customer?” It was a phrase every member of my race dreaded because selling faulty equipment was a mark of great shame. It is fine to sell low-level stuff, however.

“It’s too dull! I couldn't cut even a slime with this thing!” In the first place, aren't slimes the only monsters around here immune to the slicing damage. I believe even a dedicated child alone can kill one with their bare hands. I still took a good look at the sword, letting my observation skill kick in. “It certainly is dull, but I also don't remember selling a sword this dull to anyone around here. I think that the blame lies on a neglectful user’s shoulders because she forgot to take care of her weapon.”

I leaned my face close to the girl’s, hoping to intimidate her with my fairly monstrous visage. “If you think you can rip off me like this, then I feel myself quite insulted, Anne.” I naturally knew her: a nice girl next door that always helped her parents with small chores. It is a shame she decided to become an adventurer since all things considered, she was as much an adventurer as I was an exotic dancer.

Instead of being afraid, however, her face turned into a lovely shade of red, most likely out of shame of being caught - ahem - red-handed by yours truly. “It’s not over,  you lizard!” - shouted the girl and stormed off,  huffing and puffing along the way.

I took a good look at the sword in my hands and sighed. I made sure to make it sharp enough to cut through the stone like butter and durable enough to keep this sharpness for years even without proper maintenance. I guess the way that girl managed to dull this blade will be forever lost to me. It really was one of my best works.