Jennifer shifted her weight from foot to foot, clutching a heavy bag in her hands as she waited her turn in the resources trade line. The air smelled faintly of iron and leather, the murmurs of deals and exchanges punctuated by the occasional bark of laughter or clink of coins.
Finally, her turn arrived. She stepped forward, setting her bag on the wide counter in front of her with a dull thud. The man behind the counter, a veteran with a scar running across his cheek, glanced up from his ledger. His eyebrows arched at the sight of her.
He tugged the drawstring on the bag and peered inside. His eyes widened. “Silver longfish?” He blinked, looking from her to the bag. “Already? You just started as a Slayer.”
Jennifer straightened her shoulders, her face calm and unreadable. “I worked hard,” she said simply.
The man raised a skeptical eyebrow but didn’t push further. He emptied the contents of the bag onto the counter, carefully arranging the spines onto a scale.
“That’s a lot,” he muttered, his tone betraying a hint of respect. After a pause, he tallied the weight, scribbled a note in his ledger, and then reached into the cash box. “Ten silver coins,” he said, pushing the stack toward her.
Jennifer stared at the coins, her heart skipping. Ten silver coins. That was more money than she’d ever seen at once. Enough to last her ten months if she lived simply, like an everyday person. Her mind raced with possibilities—supplies, better gear, maybe even a real place to stay. She quickly scooped up the coins, tucking them into her pouch.
As she turned to leave, the man called out. “Hey, are you planning to buy some armor with that? Because no offense, but walking around like that might start giving people the wrong idea.”
Jennifer froze, glancing down at her worn, battered outfit. It was clear the fabric and metal was barely holding together. “I thought the armor was free,” she said, frowning.
The man snorted. “The first set is. You better head to the armory and get yourself sorted.”
---
The armory was her next stop.
Jennifer pushed it open to reveal racks upon racks of armor, gleaming steel, and leather in every shade imaginable. The smell of treated hides and metal polish filled the air.
Behind the counter stood Aercu. He glanced up as she entered, recognition lighting up his face. “Back already?” he asked, leaning casually on the counter.
Jennifer nodded. “Yeah, that was… quick,” she admitted, approaching him. “I need new armor.”
Aercu tilted his head. “Armor, huh? Yeah... I can see that. I was wondering if you were some near nudist nonsense for a second."
"Yeah Yeah, I wasn't really thinking of that."
"So, what level are you?”
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Jennifer hesitated, then spoke aloud. “Key, display my level.”
A large fiery number three appeared on the wall behind her, glowing faintly. Aercu’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Level three already?” he muttered, looking at her with renewed interest. “That was quick.”
She shrugged, trying to downplay it. “So, how much would armor cost?”
Aercu rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Well, you want the same type of light armor you got before?”
“Yes,” Jennifer said. She didn’t even need to think about it. Heavy armor wasn’t her style—she needed to stay fast and agile incase she needed to make a quick escape or catch up to someone.
Aercu nodded. “It’s gonna cost you this time. Five silver coins.”
Her heart sank. “Five silver? That’s half of what I just earned!”
“Armor’s not cheap, kid,” Mercu said with a shrug. “But you don’t want to head out there in scraps. Your call.”
Grumbling under her breath, Jennifer counted out the coins and handed them over. Aercu took them with ease and began pulling out several sets of armor from the racks behind him. “Alright,” he said, laying them out one by one. “Here’s what we’ve got for level three. Leather and metal, reinforced stitching. Durable enough to take a a lot of hits but light enough for quick movement.”
Jennifer studied the options carefully. The black set immediately caught her eye. The sleek, dark leather was accented with polished steel plating, giving it a striking yet practical appearance. It looked intimidating.
“This one,” she said, pointing to it.
“Good choice,” Aercu said, nodding approvingly. “You’ll turn a few heads in that... Not as much as you do now, but you get the point."
"Yeah, I get it."
Back at her small apartment, Jennifer changed into a long pants and shirt. She began packing her things. Her belongings fit into a single traveling wheel bag—a few changes of clothes, her toothbrush, and a bottle of alcohol on the floor.
She picked up the bottle, hesitated, then unscrewed the cap and took a long swig. The liquid burned her throat, spreading a fiery warmth through her chest. She grimaced, then grinned through the burn.
Screwing the cap back on, she tossed the bottle into the bag, zipped it up, and slung it over her shoulder. It was time to move on.
The walk to the new apartment complex took half an hour. When she finally arrived, the buildings loomed tall and uniform, their facades a mix of brick and concrete.
She knocked firmly on the door of the first-floor unit and waited. Seconds passed, and she was about to knock again when the door creaked open. A middle-aged woman peered out, her graying hair pulled into a loose bun. Her eyes flicked over Jennifer’s armor, then her traveling bag.
“What do you want?” the woman asked, her tone wary. “I don’t deal in odd jobs, and I don’t need a Slayer poking around here.”
Jennifer straightened her posture. “I’m not here for a job,” she said evenly. “I’m here for an apartment. Do you have any open units?”
The woman blinked, clearly caught off guard. “An apartment?” She glanced at Jennifer’s bag again, then frowned as if trying to make sense of the situation. “You’re moving in?”
Jennifer nodded. “That’s the idea. So… do you have anything available?”
The woman snorted softly, stepping back to grab a clipboard off a nearby table. “You could say that. I’ve got fourteen open units right now.”
Jennifer raised an eyebrow. “Fourteen?” she echoed. “That’s… a lot.”
The woman shrugged, flipping through her papers. “Not many people sticking around in this area lately. You’re the first person in weeks to even ask.”
“Alright. Which of them costs one silver coin a month?”
“One silver a month, huh?” She tapped the pen against the clipboard, considering. “Second floor.”
“I’ll take it,” Jennifer said, already reaching for her pouch. She pulled out two single silver coins and held them out.
"Fair enough,” she said. Reaching into a drawer by the door, she pulled out a tarnished brass key and handed it over. “Apartment 2-F.”
“Got it,” Jennifer said, taking the key.
The woman leaned against the doorframe, watching as Jennifer adjusted her bag. “You moving in today?”
Jennifer nodded. “Yeah. Just got back from work, thought I’d get settled somewhere better.”
“Work, huh? Must’ve been a good haul to afford this and that armor,” the woman remarked, gesturing to what Jennifer had on her shoulder.
"I would say that."