The hours passed as John sat in his chair, content with his life. He was nearly done with everything he wanted to do, he thought. There would be other things to fill his time once his building was completed, but this had been a project that kept his attention for a short while now. And there was a certain gratification he felt from it.

A man walked into his store, rough dark hair and ragged clothes covering his short frame. "What's the most expensive book you have?" He asked.

John thought about it, but he wasn't sure. He hadn't paid for any of the books, and to John, they all had the same value. One interesting story was enough for any of his books, regardless of what humans might value them. He hadn't thought about the cost of his books in gold before.

Humans tended to value superfluous ornaments and decorations much higher than knowledge or practicality, he thought. A flood of books filled with various metal markings and text flew out to fill the shelf next to him. The man's eyes widened as he rushed to the bookshelf, grabbing two that were covered in gold.

"If I share a super interesting story can I have both of these?" His voice filled with an eagerness John hadn't seen often before.

John nodded his head. There were very few times he would refuse an interesting story. The cost of an extra book was nothing compared to learning more about these people.

"I used to be an adventurer long ago. I was known throughout the lands as the fleet-footed flame, and one day a king hired me to take out a dragon that made its home in a corner of his kingdom. I took the job, for free of course. Money means nothing to one such as I when there are poor citizens at stake, their lives meaningless in front of the raw power of a dragon." The man said, beginning his story.

The words felt like poison to John, pouring through his body and ripping it to shreds. His mind was stunned by the pain, rent apart by the deceitful words shared by the man. This man was a liar, John knew, every fibre of his being knew it to be true. His words were meant to deceive and trick, a meagre attempt to steal John's books. One that would not work.

John pressed down on the man with his magic, his words ceasing under the immense pressure. The man stared at John with fear and despair. A fitting end for a liar, John thought. But it would not do, it would not do to kill this man. However violent and cruel he was, John still had business here. He had a shop to run, and this man's death would cause him problems.

Or would it, John thought, as he got up and locked his door, blocking off his windows with another spacial anomaly. Perhaps this man wouldn't be missed. Perhaps his death wouldn't cause any issues at all. Perhaps nobody would even notice.

The temptation was strong, the pain from the man's deceit still fresh in John's memory. He could just teleport the man into space, and let him float around aimlessly until he starves. He could squish the man and send him to a field as fertilizer. Would anybody even notice? Would they care?

John wasn't sure. But he knew killing the man wouldn't be right, not yet. Perhaps later should he return and cause more problems. But right now he had to calm down and think about the situation more logically. This man was a criminal, attacking John and trying to steal his books.

He extended his awareness to the rest of the town, finding the prison he was in before. He summoned a paper and pen, and wrote 'Thief' on it, sticking it to the man's back. He then teleported the man into one of the empty cells and retracted his awareness back to his building.

A terrible start to the day, John thought. It had been a while since he felt that pain and it was particularly potent this time too. The man must have had a history of deceit and lies, honesty a mere afterthought to him. A pathetic showing, lies are the tools of the weak.

He turned his attention to his store, thinking about what else he could improve in it. There were the decorations, paintings and shelves he could fill the walls with. He wasn't in much of a mood to walk down the street at the moment though, and everything else seemed to be done. He had his nice white stone, his windows and door were luxurious, and the interior was lit and populated with product.

There wasn't much else for him to do, things to distract himself with. He could work on shrinking his voice producing magic, but it was already usable and motivation for it was falling. Perhaps at a later time, but not now. John wanted something pleasant to do, a customer would do, but there were none at the moment. He realized his door was still locked, and his windows still blocked and unlocked it all, opening his store once more.

He waited for a little while, almost an hour of sitting in his chair wishing for something to do, when a familiar customer walked in the door. A younger girl pushed in a chair by her mother.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

"Hello again, she'd like another adventuring book if that's alright?" The mother asked.

John nodded his head, realizing the ornamented books were still sitting on his desk, and filling the shelf. He waved his hand, replacing them all with different books of exploration than the girl had seen last time. If she wanted something specific she could ask, but John thought she might enjoy a new selection.

He watched as the mother pulled books off the shelf for the girl to look through, putting them back when the girl shook her head. Watching them calmed John down, the frustrations and pain he felt fading away, replaced with joy, and excitement of another story to learn. An honest one even, he thought. The girl didn't lie last time, and she wasn't likely to this time either.

They spent their time, chatting about books they looked through. The girl was excited about some of the stories, while some she said would be boring. There wasn't enough world-building, she said. Some of the trees looked gray, she said. Which apparently, was funny the first couple of times, but now it's just boring and bland.

The two settled on a book, bringing it to John's desk. It was the first of a series, he knew. One of Vampires and stone masks, written by a forgetful author obsessed with flamboyance. He wondered how that would work with the girl's class.

If the author forgot something, would it be removed from the world as soon as the world progressed to the point where it was forgotten? At what point would that be defined, anyway? When can you be sure that the author forgot something, instead of it just not having relevance again? Would the author's mind while reading it affect the world such that when they forgot it, it was removed at that point?

Or would the girl explore the world full of holes as it was written, wondering why the rules never seemed to make sense. He wondered how it would work with the book being a series, too. Would her class allow her to follow how the story would progress, or would each book be a separate world with different characters, progressing down a different timeline from how it was originally written?

The girl's class fascinated John. The versatility of humans never ceasing to amaze him.

"I'd like this book please John!" The girl said from her chair. "I was reading that last book you gave me and it was super super fun. There was this really powerful girl in it who did some cool stuff which was kind of cool but the world just seemed really fun to be in. Lots of forests and animals and the classes I got were really fun too. I was a thief! With these black shadow wings and I could fly around. I've never flown before, that was really fun. Seeing the trees zoom by under me was super cool. That was a good book I'm definitely gonna read it more again. I hope this one's as good too, never seen Vampires before. Maybe I'll be a super strong Vampire." She giggled.

"Thanks for the book again, John." The mother said, as the girl took the book and was pushed out of the store.

From how the girl was describing it, John was increasingly believing that she didn't follow the main story at all. The main character did some cool stuff? Not even worth a mention to her, as the girl went about doing her own thing and explored the forests. Fascinating.

His mood had lightened, he realized. He was calm, and content. The frustrations had washed away, helping a customer was a strong means of catharsis for him, he realized once more. Whatever evils dominated his mind were overwhelmed by the joy he felt from helping somebody who came to his store.

He was even getting repeat customers, somewhat often now. A surprise, though he would like a larger variety too. The ideal, he thought, would be more customers overall, both new and repeat. But he had what he had, and he liked it enough.

John decided to check on the thief he had dealt with earlier, looking at the jail where he was left. The man looked furious, having ripped the paper stuck to his back to shreds, screaming down the corridor. A couple of the other people in the prison looked angry at him, telling him to quiet down, with much more colourful language.

A guard walked up to the man's cell. "We've told you, we can't just let anybody out because they say they broke into jail. I mean really, you couldn't have made up a better excuse?"

"I TOLD you, I didn't break in. I was teleported inside against my will. I don't belong here. Let me out right this instant." The thief said.

"Yes yes, some monster sent you in here against your will. Most people are here against their will, you know? That's the point. We'll talk as soon as we can but we have other priorities right now so calm down and wait, okay? It won't be much longer now." The guard said and walked back off down the hallway.

A few more minutes passed, and another guard came down to the thief's cell. His armour was much cleaner than the previous one, with more markings on his shoulder.

"I hear you're causing problems?" The guard said.

"I am not causing problems, I am unfairly imprisoned. You will let me out this instant!" The thief said.

"Calm down now, tell me exactly what happened."

"I was at that godforsaken monster's shop, you know the one? John's books, it calls it. I heard people say you can get free books if you just tell a story so I went to get my grandfather's favourite book just to read through it one more time, remind myself of the great man he was. And I tell this monster the story of my grandpappy's passing, the most interesting story I know. What a man he was, facing down sickness for so long before it finally claimed him. I'm so proud of who he was, and then the monster just attacks me for absolutely no reason. Crushing me under its weight.

"I thought my bones were going to shatter, I was sure it was going to eat me. And then it just slapped on this piece of paper on my back calling gramps a whore and teleported me in here. It's just toying with us. You have to kill that monster before it's too late. I didn't do nothing wrong, sir, I just wanted a reminder of my dear grandfather since my last one burned up in a fire when bandits attacked our house." The thief said, tears streaming down his face.

"Ah that monster, yeah I've heard about it. They say it broke out of prison here too, not sure why we let it keep causing mayhem. I'll let you go, nobody should have to suffer at the hands of something like that." The guard said, opening the gate and letting the thief out.