Fort Wayfield rises early in the morning, hastily surging with life, as workers head off to their places of employment. Whether rich or poor, like greased cogs they spin and spin, to run the ugly machine that is the economy. Faulty cogs can always be replaced; Therefore, the drone of the workers turning is unending.
In the commercial district, near to the heart of the town of Fort Wayfield, a sallow man enters through the front door of a clothier's shop. Whilst sunlight streams inside, a melodic ring sounds from the bell above the door.
As the man is dressed in casual attire, a simple white button shirt, grey wool trousers, and undone suspenders, the shop’s resident clothier judges him rather harshly. Such a meager, sloppy man is unlikely to make a valuable customer; Or so he thinks.
“Welcome, Sir.”
Though the middle-aged clothier calls out to his customer as a courtesy, the man simply ignores it and approaches the counter in silence. The man has various parchments tucked into several of his pockets and brings out a certain one as he reaches the counter. Laying it out flat, he points to it with a decided thrust of his finger.
The clothier is taken aback at first but eventually settles into his spectacles, taking a look at what is scribbled upon the paper in front of him. His resignation soon becomes surprise, however, once he views the contents.
“This is…?!”
The clothier’s voice is intentionally hushed, yet his face does little to disguise his bewilderment.
“M-make this…”
The man’s demeanor is awkward and his line of sight never really meets with the clothier’s; However, this man’s aura is piercing. The eyes themselves are darkened to a frightening shade of black, darker even than the coal miner’s when they return home from work.
His stare holds an inexplicable murky depth to it, that invokes instinctive unrest upon you. All this, paired with the unsightly scars adorning his face, feels unsettling and makes the man’s appearance asynchronous with his laid-back attire.
Looking back at the parchment, an outfit is pictured there, as well as details such as materials and measurements. It is a fantastical garment that you would be hard of luck finding anything as imaginative, even amongst the trade goods brought from merchants of other races.
Perhaps you could find something similar to this in the far east since not much is known about them. But those fellows prefer not to trade with the mainland merchants. They stay mostly to themselves, keeping their highly-guarded technology and culture from slipping through their defenses.
What this type of thing is for could be anyone’s guess, and since this man doesn’t seem like one to enjoy such small talk, the clothier can only sigh inwardly.
“This type of thing… I suppose I could pull it off; However, it won’t be easy. As such…”
The clothier scrutinizes the man with a skeptical glance.
“It’s not going to be cheap, ya’ hear?”
“…”
The strange man’s eyes narrow, and for a brief moment, a chill runs down the clothier’s spine. After a long moment of strained silence, in which the man contemplates something inwardly, he finally answers the clothier with a hollow voice.
“I w-will pay now… How much?”
Reaching into one of his pockets, the man pulls out a thick, brown coin purse. With a crisp ring, he drops the heavy bag onto the counter. Even now, he still avoids eye-contact, just staring off to the side.
The clothier had been waiting for this. By taking such a unique request, he’s able to charge an exorbitant amount of coins from his client. Whether this man has such money or not is of little concern to him, since he can simply apply the remainder to his tab, leaving the fool with a hefty debt.
Although it may seem harsh, this is not technically an illegal act. It is usually up to the craftsman to decide the jobs value, which can lead to this type of situation. This is just the way the world works.
“Thank you for your consideration.”
The clothier stifles a smirk, as he reaches his hand out to pick up the coin purse. Anticipation builds within him, hastening his pace until he finally places his hand upon his prize. To his dismay, his hand turns up empty, as the purse suddenly disappears from his sight.
A swift jerk pulls the confused clothier’s outstretched arm behind his back, as an elbow is braced against his neck. The clothier’s face then slams against the hard, wooden countertop. All of this is done before he can even react, and with vice-like grips, his mobility is completely stolen.
Confusion, anger, and fear swim amongst the clothier’s racing thoughts, as he struggles to break free from his prison to no avail. He had not even seen the man get behind him. It was simply too fast. Meanwhile, he feels a most sinister presence above his ear, and his eyes wince in sheer terror.
“I do not appreciate being lied to!”
The deep, croaking voice comes from so close that it resonates inside his head. It overloads his senses with its gravity and causes his body to shiver. Holding back the urge to cry out, he opens his mouth to reply, shrewdly.
“I h-have no idea w-what you’re talking about! I’m s-simply collecting my fee! Ahaha…”
“I see…”
Even under duress, he holds onto his unscrupulous demeanor. He is unwavering in his avarice. This is the standard he lives by, and it will be the reason for his downfall. The clothier’s greed was his undoing...
------------
I feel refreshed… Thanks in part to [Falling Owl] visiting for about twelve minutes last night. Not a large amount when compared to the full night I stayed at that family’s house. It is something, however. Besides, I will take any relief that I can get from this madness that is constantly hounding me.
Well... I say relief, but the world I see is still a picturesque display of utter chaos. The gruesome hallucinations still abound, and the Sun remains a black mass staring down at me mockingly. I believe it was blue to begin with, was it not? On the bright side, I have no more need for sunglasses.
Truly, the only thing that matters is that my mind feels whole again. Ever since I was forced to use [Corruption], I had been suffering from the aftereffects of the toxins. Only now am I finally back to one-hundred percent. Even my migraine has calmed down a little.
Since I ended up staying the night with that bothersome family, I squeezed as much information out of them as I could manage. Unfortunately, I discovered nothing about Gwyn’s whereabouts, no matter how hard I tried. But that is fine, as I was half expecting as much.
The amount of rubbish one man can spew when you are actually searching for something useful is uncanny. He went on and on about these beings called “Gods”, like some sort of adoring fan. After the fifth anecdote, I started to tune him out. Luckily, he did mention some important things.
First off, this world is called Gearia. It is a rather large planet with various civilized species intermingling upon its surface; Humans being just one of them.
That said, there are many, many more races here than on Earth.
Just to name a few heavy hitters, there are Elves, Dwarves, Fairies, Therianthropes, and the like. Well, it would not have felt like a fantasy world without at least that much. In actuality, however, there are more than twenty races that inhabit various locations in this messed up world.
Seriously… I have nothing to retort. This world is far beyond saving. There is a limit to what I can put up with…
Thankfully, there are fewer races intermingling than it sounds; Or rather, there are two main factions with one key dividing factor that separates them: The Code of Ethics. In plainer terms, it divides the “good” from the “evil”.
And what do you know, this Code of Ethics just so happens to have been created by one of those diligent beings called Gods. An all-encompassing mandate that brings forth order and justice. It is the law itself, and all those who deny its iron hammer are to be shunned and cast away like the heathens they are. The eternal struggle between light and dark that frankly, I want no part of. Unless one of these factions becomes a hindrance in my plans, I could not possibly care less.
Whilst explaining such matters, that simpleton also mentioned one more thing that set my teeth on edge. Apparently, due to that same God, the common consensus is that any people designated by them as a witch, are thought to be evil. These unlucky fellows must be punished, or in other words, hunted.
Which means I am in a bad way if anyone realizes that I am potentially the most dangerous witch in all of existence. It almost makes me laugh...
Of course, it is utter crap though. I mean, is it not always like that? Some group of people is hated for one reason or another, and then innocent bystanders are persecuted as a result. For a world that is so full of diversity, I find it quite absurd that they would choose something as foolish as witches to throw stones at. There are Vampires here, you know. The real blood-sucking deal.
Well, at least witches are not the only thing being picked on. I just find it weird that they shun something so interesting. Then again, from what I have seen so far of magic maybe it is a good idea to weed it out before it becomes a catastrophic problem. Not that I would comply with such a thing.
Just like I figured last night, the civilized races are governed not by a stuffy old church, nor even by a monarchy, but rather by a triumvirate of three integral guilds. Each managed by a resident deity, and together they make up the ever so aptly named Court of Guilds. What were those deities’ names again…?
Anyways, first, there is the Guild of Commerce, which sounds the most obvious. Just your typical merchant guild. I am unsure of most of the details since that fellow is a bit of a flake when it comes to that type of thing; However, from what I could glean, it is run similar to a corporation.
The upper ranks are comprised of so-called influential individuals, across all races and fields of business. From agriculture to manufacturing, sales, and even the service industry, much of the decisions that go on in the business world go through them first.
Next, is the previously mentioned Guild of Judgement, which is essentially the justice system of this world. It is supposedly led by an absurdly powerful fellow, I hear; Not to mention the Goddess backing them, apparently stronger by magnitudes. This troublesome Goddess just so happens to be the one responsible for composing the monstrosity that is the Code of Ethics.
In other words, I need to stay the heck away from them. Since they are the ones who keep the peace, if I happen to cause any kind of uproar, they will come snooping around my business in droves. No thank you.
The last one is the Guild of Wisdom, but I am not entirely sure about them. They seem to run schools and hospitals and such. That fellow’s explanation was a little shaky on this matter too, thus I know barely anything about the specifics of how they operate. I am out of luck there.
The “wisdom” part sounds attractive to me right now, but it is a bit of a gambit. If I go to them for intelligence right now, I am likely to trigger any number of flags. Besides, it is not yet certain how “wise” these fellows really are. There are too many variables that I have too little control over. In that type of situation, it is best not to mess with the hornet’s nest.
Wisdom, Judgement, and Commerce. Each of these has little to do with me, who has not only come to this world from another but also wields their hated magic. When the time comes that I must meet one of these forces, may they find benevolence in their heart and let me go. That is in their best interest. Best not to mess with the hornet’s nest.
That said, now that I know that any kind of outrageous act will lead those sticky insects onto my trail, I will have to employ many a failsafe in preparation. Starting with a proper disguise.
Something chilling, that will bring fear unto anyone foolish enough to begrudge me. An easily memorable token of the devastation I have brought along with me to this world. I will don the garb of the [Black Corona], not in malice, but as a defense mechanism.
Disguising myself in this grim attire will allow me to soak up any negative rumors that might spread, in the case that I should cause some kind of uproar. I will only wear this outfit when faced with an unfavorable, or unjust situation. Therefore, any evil that should come about will be blamed on said persona, rather than myself.
Doing this correctly, should leave my actual appearance untainted by filthy rumors, and also obscure the scent trail from any unwanted pursuers. The thing is… Coming up with the design is simple enough, but constructing it is something entirely different. I could do it if I put my mind to it; There is just no time for it. Which is why I should hire a clothier.
Now that I have a destination, I leave the idiot family’s estate. I leave early in the morning so as to avoid rush hour, severely underestimating the gusto of the working class.
(What are these people, ants?)
To my dismay, most of the population is awake and already heading to work before I finally decide to leave. An annoying ruckus abounds as I warily walk downtown. Just the fumes from the vehicles are giving me a terrible headache, let alone being surrounded by the unsightly masses.
Ah, I pity human beings. They are so bound by greed it is sickening. I have come to another world, yet still have to wallow in this pathetic farce. Fly away, you peasants. Go inhabit a rock hurtling through space somewhere far, far away from me…
The sky is a pallid grey as if to represent the sickness that these humans have wrought upon it. The air is thin and filled with the result of all the coal being burnt.
I need a breathing mask, or I am going to seriously throw up. Coming from my spotless room to this utter garbage heap is too much for my poor nose to bare. If I could, I would love to leave this disgusting place and escape to the forests once again. Unfortunately, I have things I must accomplish here that take priority. Thankfully I have arrived.
A quaint little shop. With small windows, which I daresay has to do with the profession. Nonetheless, it is very decorative on the front facing the street.
As I enter, I hear the familiar sound of a hanging bell, signaling when there is a customer. The whole thing reminds me of a convenience store, somewhere in the middle of nowhere.
Spotting the man behind the counter, I begin to approach him, completely ignoring his forced greeting. I have got to get through this without speaking too much, as painfully inept at conversing with living people as I am.
His look momentarily turns sour, as he appraises my appearance, but I am not one to worry about what to wear. As such, I simply threw on whatever I could find in that fellow’s closet before coming here.
Using that ridiculous power really pulled a number on the clothes I came with after all. No doubt it would attract unwanted attention from the onlookers. Though the clothes are a bit uncomfortable, it is best to play it safe.
“{This meager fellow appears to have a problem with your appearance, Wade. Kyish shyi shyi shyi…}”
Ugh… This clown again?
You of all people have no right to comment on such a thing, you failure of a circus freak. Why does this thing appear right when I am in the middle of something? I am still not overly enthused about you leaving without fulfilling your end of the bargain, you know.
(What do you want, clown? I am busy. Do not forget, you still owe me information about Gwyn.)
With a bit of concentration, I can speak to this bastard without anyone noticing. It would be pretty awkward if not. My inner monologue acts as an intermediary between myself and any of these unsavory fellows that should show their face. They are a part of my imagination after all.
Back to the point, I have drawn up some plans for the outfit I will be using for my alternate persona. I have taken homage from many sources, mainly part plague doctor, part raven, with a few enhancements here and there. It is so chuuni I fear my eyes will shrivel-up any second now, but I need an impactful design in order to blot out any non-evil impressions people might get from it.
When I place the diagram of the outfit I sketched up last night onto the counter, the tailor appears surprised, confused, and intrigued, all at once. I had thought maybe that this sort of thing might not be that odd since this is a fantasy world and all; Apparently not. At least now I know it will make enough of an impact.
“M-make this…”
I have no time for loitering around here, so I just come right out with it. Somehow, this tailor is making me uneasy; Or rather, his eyes seem clouded with impurity.
I thought that the people of this world, bridled with their heavy, ethical laws, would know better than to entertain such dangerous desires. Perhaps, I have once again underestimated this world.
“{Kyish shyi shyi shyi… This poor tailor’s soul has become a rotten cesspool of greed and envy. His eyes see only money, and his heart beats only to fulfill his desires. How… Utterly divine!}”
I know it is not much different from what I was thinking, but it still makes me sick that I actually think the same way as this bastard… Save the last bit.
(“Are you even planning on giving me the answers I seek? If not, then do you not have some children’s candy to steal, or dead person’s grave to tread upon?”)
“{Kyish shyi shyi shyi… You underestimate me, Wade.}”
Yeah, would not be the first time today.
“{This plan you have, Wade. A diversion shall we call it? Do you really think it is necessary to prepare all this nonsense? Hiding your darkness behind a mask makes you not much different than myself, you see.}”
(“Darkness? You are wrong. This is all just smoke and mirrors. I have no need to use that power, as long as I take the proper precautions. This “nonsense” is far more useful than that broken power could ever be anyways.”)
“{Oh, Wade, Wade, Wade… When will you learn that the people from this delightful world, will not so easily fit into your little plans? You may even find, that what you and I desire, end up being one and the same. Kyish shyi shyi shyi…}”
(“Again with the cryptic smokescreen. Tell me something useful for once, or just get out of here. It seems this clothier follows a different kind of ethics than everyone else here, and quite frankly, you are distracting me.”)
I will give the tailor the benefit of the doubt, but if he still aims to satisfy his own depraved desires, I am going to have to protect my own interests. People like him tend to lie whenever it suits them. His lies will not work on me though; A face is like an open book.
A feint, and like thunder I have dropped this greedy miser against the counter, in a painful arm lock. In this situation, he is as good as finished if I feel like it, so let us hope his heart is not as I suspect…
“I do not appreciate being lied to!”
Confess your sins you disgusting, skin-covered, bag of human waste, and we can all get along fine. If you should choose otherwise, however, I am no longer in the leisure to let you go unpunished. I have other matters to attend to and you are fucking up my schedule.
“I h-have no idea w-what you’re talking about! I’m s-simply collecting my fee! Ahaha…”
“I see…”
Wrong answer. I was looking for more along the lines of “I am a scumbag, and I wanted to extort you.”. But if this is the way you want to play it, then I have no choice but to use a bit more of a direct approach. I simply cannot put my trust in garbage like this…
“{Kyish shyi shyi shyi… The heart of man is truly a paradise for the disturbed.}”
(“You still here?”)
“{How rude. You said it yourself, did you not, that I have debts to be paid? I’m not a monster, you see.}”
Uh huh… Well, at least I will be getting whatever info he has on Gwyn. For now, though, I have to introduce this other imbecile to a more cooperative state of mind. Can I do it…? I feel like it is worth a shot. Only one way to find out…
Whilst keeping a firm grip upon the clothier, I reposition him so that his back is pressed against the counter. To an onlooker, the scene becomes a rather dicey one, that could easily be interpreted a certain way. Though this is not my intention, merely a necessary evil to accomplish what I am about to do.
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“Look at me!”
The clothier’s eyes are aimed elsewhere, desperately trying to avoid my own. This is troubling...
“Look, lest I cause you agony beyond your imagination!”
Hearing this, the clothier’s shivering form reluctantly fixes its gaze onto mine. Reflected in his vision is a being no longer human in appearance. Pulsating, discolored veins stretch outwards from my temples, crawling towards my eye-sockets like a sickening web. A darkened stain begins to soak into the whites of my eyes, dying everything a terrible shade of black.
The breath catches in the clothier’s throat, and the hair on his neck becomes erect. Fear clutches his heart in its icy grip, making his blood pump furiously throughout his body. The clothier does not fully understand what is going on, only staring into the endless pools of darkness in horror.
Slowly, a shadowy cluster of black particles begins to seep from their depths, forming a dark mist that reaches towards the clothier in malice. Unable to look away, the clothier’s body is paralyzed from the inexplicable phenomenon taking place before him. Before long, the mist reaches its final destination, the terrified eyes of the clothier.
Filled with the mass of black particles, the clothier’s eyes also dye a shade of pitch black. Having accepted the strange substance into his being, the clothier’s body becomes limp and collapses. Because of this, I haul him up onto the counter, somewhat unceremoniously. There is just barely enough room, though it is a bit cramped.
This turned out rather well…
“{You’ve come this far, Wade, I’m impressed. You seem to have handled that rather well. Perhaps I should rethink some of my earlier statements. After all, if you could simply hypnotize everyone this easily, there would be no worry about your identity being discovered. Kyish shyi shyi shyi…}”
‘Tch’
(“Do not patronize me, clown. I have no interest in causing such calamity. This was only a last resort. Strategy and forethought are the foundation that will bring my plans to fruition, not your kind of caustic belligerence.”)
“{Ever the same, Wade. You know that someday, this facade you hold onto will crumble and fall, just like it did in the past. At that time, which path do you suppose you’ll choose to follow? Kyish shyi shyi shyi… Soon, Wade. We’ll see…}”
(“Silence, clown. I refuse to fall into corruption. I need only to look forward, towards the day I am able to repay my debts to her. You would do well to realize my motivation by now. I will not falter… Even in the face of this wretched power.”)
“I am not so easily taken…”
“{Is that so…? I suppose I’ll take your word, for now. In the meantime, it appears I have my own debts to pay. Listen well, Wade. This world may seem like a peaceful one, at least on the surface; But in the shadows, the story is one of sins most foul. In my opinion, this world could use far more candor with their desires. Wouldn’t you say?
By the way, did you know that there is a witch in this town…? Though that may not interest you, Wade, I’m sure those rigid fellows in the Guild of Judgement might have something to say about it. Perhaps it’s high time you stopped wallowing in your anonymity.
This is all I can give you, for now. Anything else would simply be worthless at this point in time, you see. There will come a point when I will return, so do become more interesting before then, Wade. Kyish shyi shyi shyi…}”
With that, the clown begins to dematerialize into grey smoke.
“{Good luck, Wade. You’ll certainly need it…}”
I heard that, you bastard.
“Like I want your luck anyways...”
Just leave already. I need to finish prepping this greedy pig, so your distractions are annoying. What the hell good is it going to do me, knowing that there is a witch in this town? Why would I get involved with such a corrosive existence? Why is everyone around me so damn useless?
‘Sigh’
(Guess I should finish what I started…)
This unfortunate fellow is currently in a hypnotic state. Honestly, I am not quite clear on the specifics, but it felt feasible at that moment in time. Thus, this is the result. [Corruption] sure is a handy skill… Too bad the side-effects are so absurd.
Anyways, let me try giving this pig a command...
“You will make what is displayed on this diagram, to the best of your ability. If there are any parts you are unsure about, improvise it; However, do not stray from the general theme.
You will also feel a renewed vigor, as you strive to finish your business each day. All in order to get back to work on the task I have given you. Until you are done, it will take precedence in any decisions. Understand, this job is to be done entirely in secret. No one must find out you are doing this, so store it in a safe place where no one could ever find it.
At no point during this process will you remember what you have done. You will simply go about the task whenever you can, not realizing you are even doing it. Once you are done, and I come to pick it up, you will deliver it to me, and forget any of this has ever happened.
If you understand all of this then nod your head.”
‘Nod’
“Good. Now, I am going to leave. When I do, you will slowly wake up, not remembering anything said or done here. However, you will still complete everything that I have told you to do unconsciously, without realizing it.”
That should be enough… Thus, I leave the shop from whence I came.
“… Hmm? Hmmmmmm… Huh? What was I doing again…?”
------------
Well then, now that I have taken care of that, I can finally move on to other matters. I need to procure myself enough rations for a long trip, as well as a means of transport. The food should be something that does not spoil easily since I will be on the road for quite a while.
This town is too small, so the chances of finding information about Gwyn is unlikely. Therefore, I must travel to a more viable location. I was hoping I could cut out all the boring stuff and head straight to this country’s capital, Engelred, but that is not going to happen.
In order to reach Engelred, I would have to travel across the whole entirety of this country of Grimm, sailing over the ocean in the process. It is simply too far away. In that case, I would be spending so much time traveling that it would be better to just find some information from a semi-large city nearby.
I ruminated as to which destination would be the best bet, but with only the little bit of knowledge I could extract from that family, I am left with immense uncertainties. Nevertheless, I have narrowed down the candidates to two prominent cities, each located within a reasonable distance of Fort Wayfield.
The first is a large port city, nestled along the northern edge of the country of Grimm, called Blackbird Harbor. One of the main hubs of the Guild of Commerce, it handles most of the goods traveling up and down the northern coast.
The amount of rumors available in such a bustling trade city is appealing in itself. Unfortunately, with the vast amount of business that goes on there, the eyes of the Guild of Judgement will be sharper all the more. Besides, I have had enough water for one lifetime.
Heading further inland in the opposite direction is a smaller city by the name of Graves. This city, although given such a mournful name, is host to the largest most prestigious university in the nearby vicinity.
As the university is run by the Guild of Wisdom, there will hopefully be a chance to catch a trickle of information about Gwyn. Leaving interactions with the guilds aside, any town where people gather is a good start. Most likely, I will be choosing Graves, since it is closer.
Traveling up to the northern coast puts me in an awkward position, considering what is to come. I have to continue moving from place to place if I am to have any hope of finding something useful, so retreating further away from the heart of the country is just counterintuitive.
Alright, I am convinced. I will go to Graves. Then, if I have trouble finding anything, I will continue moving towards the west. Eventually, I should find something, according to my knowledge of similar situations in manga and light novels. Therefore, it is best to be efficient about it.
Who knows, maybe she is not even in this country. If such a thing turns out to be true, I will be very displeased, what with my having been summoned in this backwoods town. Perhaps they were going for this at the start?
Something is nagging me like I am forgetting something. Suit, food, travel… Urgh… I cannot place it. Must not have been important. No matter, I will think of it later. For now, I have an appointment with a grocer.
Just as I am about to pull open the bulky door of the shop entitled “Arlen’s Goods”, I am obstructed by another customer leaving at the same time. The plain-looking man gives me a casual greeting. I ignore such farce. I am quite behind on my schedule as it is.
This store, according to my sources, has particularly appealing prices. For this reason, I will make sure to buy the bulk of my provisions here. I have no means of carrying them though. At least, not yet. That is next on the list.
Everything would be so much easier if only I had some type of inventory magic, like those lucky bastards in light novels. I think I could probably work something out with [Corruption], though I shall refrain from such imprudence. Just thinking about touching that power gives me a headache. Once is enough.
The inside of the shop is quaint, I suppose. But there are far more people in here than I had been expecting. Is it not a little early to go shopping? The people in this world are constantly pressing my buttons.
The place looks like a candy shop, walls lined with wooden shelves of various goods and types of equipment. It is lit by ancient looking light-bulbs, which cast a calming glow over the rows of produce and canned goods. It is surreal to see such a sight in a fantasy world. Just roll with it.
Behind a counter in the corner of the room are two busy-looking young men in aprons flitting to and fro checking stock. Apart from them, is an older, rounder man that cashiers the purchases. I assume the older one is “Arlen”.
This guy is off… He seems normal enough at first glance, just an overly-friendly, hefty grocer. But his face… He has a caterpillar mustache, as big as a hand. Why would you need a mustache so big? It is comically large and makes his head look tiny in comparison. Oh well, to each their own…
“Welcome Sir, haven’t seen you before. What can I do for you today?”
Nope. I cannot take this guy seriously. Too much…
“I n-need provisions… F-for traveling…”
“I see! Canned goods and the like, is it?”
Redundant question… Not answering it.
The fact that they have such affordable canned goods is rather surprising to me. This world is far more technologically advanced than I gave them credit for.
“Do you have any particular preference, or would you like me to find something?”
“I w-will do it…”
“Of course, Sir. Just take anything you’d like up to the counter. I’ll weigh and bag any perishables, and ring everything up on the till. Will you need them delivered Sir?”
Ooh, fancy. Delivery is nice, but I do not have a permanent residence. I would also like to avoid any of the complications were I to send them to that family, so I think I will pass.
“I will bring a v-vehicle later… So…”
“We can keep your purchase on hold until then, have no fear. You just drop by when you’re ready and I’ll have my boys here load it onto your vehicle for you.”
Good. I am lucky Moustache is so good at his job, or this would have been far more painful. Even now I am sweating profusely. I need to get out of this group of people soon, or I am going to pass out.
Most of the ladies around me are chatting it up, but some of them are looking my way. Not sure why they find me interesting… Maybe a man shopping is rare or something. You would think that such a diverse world would be over the whole housewife phase. Or maybe I look poorly dressed or something? Honestly, I do not care, just stop staring at me.
Searching through the goods, I happen upon another problem… Despite the letters being identical to my previous language, the names are utterly nonsensical. For instance, what is a gidbloo? I totally neglected to ask about things like this when I was grilling that fool for info. Did I perhaps think I could wing it, or something? I am definitely not off to a good start.
‘Sigh’
Yeah... I will just have to pick some delicious sounding things and hope for the best. Luckily their labels have pictures, so there is at least something to go by.
This “Chickee” obviously sounds like a chicken, so I will take that. “Arful” sounds like something a dog would say, so pass. “Ragon” sounds like Dragon, so hell yes. “Gruntt” sounds like it would be porcine, so it should be okay. “Hider”? Umm… An insect maybe? Can you even eat it? Though it is pretty cheap at two Trinx, compared to gruntt’s five Trinx. Still, I do not want to be sick again, so pass.
Kyd is also cheap, at three Trinx, and although the name is unsettling, the picture is clearly a fish. I should probably stock up on it. It is great having previous knowledge of what the fish in this world taste like, but I am not too keen on eating just fish like before.
Apart from meat, I take some bleddel soup, morkin stew, as well as a variety of other cans of oddly named vegetables. I am interested in trying all these mysterious foods, like some kind of cooking manga.
Whoa, I almost lost myself there. I still have a lot of things to do today so I should make sure not to mess around. Since I have brought my purchases to the counter, I will let Moustache handle it while I head to my next location.
(Next is…)
In order to buy a steam-powered vehicle in this backward town, I need to acquire a license from the Court of Guilds. Unfortunately, I am not a real person in this world, so I will have to stick with a coach. While they are less expensive, they have many a drawback, one of which is having to take care of the horse.
I have no idea how to properly take care of a horse. Though it might not end up being a problem. There are multiple ways to get around it, and if worse comes to worst, I will just work it out somehow. Guts!
Now that I think about it, why are all the other animals such random things while the horses are still plain old horses? Pick one theme, world. Why are you so half-assed about everything? Even I am putting in some effort here, so you should give me something interesting, like a Chocobo or something.
‘Sigh’
You know, I try not to think too much about it, but I really need to do something about this madness polluting my surroundings. Everything is so vile and grim, as hoards of specters roam amongst the poor citizens who are none the wiser.
Maybe I should become one of those chuuni characters that wear a blindfold so as to keep the evil at bay. I could probably manage to find my way around. Blind people do it. Seems like a hassle though, and the extra attention I would draw is a definite negative.
I must not do anything that will make me stand out. At least until I properly establish my scapegoat. Even then, I am not going to go chasing people waving sticks; It is simply a last resort, for when I have totally screwed up.
I wonder what I should name it?
Back to the task at hand, I need both a horse and a coach. The coach is the easier of the two since you can conveniently buy it from a workshop, but the horse is different.
Having walked across town, I make my way to a stable nestled against one of Fort Wayfield’s outer walls. I have been told that this is the best place to procure myself a horse, and as such, I am currently being shown an array of specimens by a caretaker.
I have always wondered why people become so emphatic about the supposed joys of owning a horse. Though I am sure there are plenty of things that would merit such a response, for someone like me, a horse is only a negative existence.
The crooked man before me is most likely one of those. An out-and-out equiphile, spending each day grooming his horses, like some kind of sick obsession. While I shall not unduly judge you, Sir, just know that I am not among those who share your passions.
It is filthy here, and I am sickened more and more by the utterly malodorous state of this place. I miss Duchess, Beautiful, and my serene crawlspace under the stairs. So far, I only regret coming to this world.
The horses dwell in stalls that line the inside of a rather nondescript stable. Each with their own amenities, of course. I find it unpleasant that, as the record stands, these horses are better off than I am. I almost feel sorry for the poor horse that gets torn from their current comfortable domain, just to become a vagrant’s steed.
While being flooded with useless, biased information by the breeder, I am taking my time and inspecting the overall condition of each horse. I will ignore most of what he says, as I do not trust this man in the slightest. After the first two descriptions, I suspect he would make a far better fiction writer than a salesman.
So, what makes a good horse?
Personally, I would prefer a horse that will not physically harm me. Smart, calm, friendly, all the things that make for less work on my part. Just because I am going out of my way to take care of this beast, does not mean I want extra work saddled upon me.
Most of these horses look a little rough, with a few exceptions. Only three stand out from the rest. The first two are clearly the most well-bred of the bunch, even though this salesman would try to convince me otherwise. It is obvious that he is trying to sell me rags for riches. Too bad I have mostly been ignoring him this whole time.
The third horse is different in a whole other way. Reject material. Its harsh, abrasive attitude, and unkempt, appearance scream at me, and not in a good way. Who in their right mind would ever purchase this creature, which looks as if it would murder you the moment your back is turned?
“{S4Ys tH3 mURd3rER!1!}”
‘Guhuh!!’
…I guess I deserved that.
(“Even so, I cannot buy this horse. I mean, just look at it, this thing is clearly possessed. That is foam by its mouth, you know!”)
Concentrating on my inner monologue, I desperately plead my case. However, the empty-eyed ghost of a girl appears to not be listening. She simply sits there atop the fence that separates me from the faulty object in question, staring blankly, like usual, at the rowdy, black mare.
(“Black, huh…?”)
‘Sigh’
Do not get me wrong… It is not like I changed my mind because she told me to… Just that, upon looking beyond minor character flaws, I feel a deep sort of connection with this particular horse… Or something…
(“You better thank me for this…”)
I can never go against her when she makes a sullen face like that. No really, I absolutely cannot. She is very strong in comparison to her size, so I stand no chance in hell. She is clearly an S…
“{…}”
‘Tch’
(“Fine, fine. I shall get it, okay? Are you happy now?”)
Flipping backward off the fence, she turns her head to the side and crosses her arms while pouting. I suppose just buying a horse is not enough to appease this spoiled princess. Or maybe she is just shy… I think I will go with that…