'Ah. I'm going to beat both of them up.'

I quietly sat in the inn, watching Val sleep. Amalia had stayed overnight at that Hend-whatever's house, leaving me totally stuck with the elf. Thankfully, Val finally stopped talking. I wanted to directly tell her to shut up, but couldn't risk alienating her. If that happened, I'd lose my means of fulfilling an evolution condition in a timely fashion.

But for a relatively introverted person like me? This noise was torture.

And so, following a series of non-committal responses, the bubbly elf finally calmed down. Perhaps she took a hint? This left me alone to practice controlling my body.

For a former-human, the amount of effort and focus required for simple speech was immensely frustrating. It would have been nice to just write what I wanted to say and pretend to be mute, but Amalia was quick to point out my poor penmanship.

Usually, I wouldn't need much rest, yet I found myself feeling rather sluggish since our encounter with those damn savages. Perhaps it was because that man's club had damaged my Core, but I felt a bit unwell.

When I woke, I continued my alchemical experiments. The problem with going out in public was that it fatigued my stamina, along with draining my Mana. Thus, I'd began devising a solution to that problem.

Simply put, I concocted a potion to recover my stamina and Mana. Once done, I'd keep it inside me and dissolve the container's cork when it was needed. While this body was generally inconvenient, it sometimes had its uses.

I still needed some additional supplies, but progress was progress. After I was done spanking Amalia once she returned, we still needed to head to Arnie's smithy and see about bargaining for a set of armor. The ore should be relatively valuable, so I was prepared to sell about half of it in exchange for his services. I just needed to get a better idea of how much such a commission should cost, along with the ore's value.

And for that, I needed Amalia to get her fuzzy rump back here. Soon.

I kept telling myself that a young girl needed to have friends and that being overbearing just fostered resentment. I knew that well enough. Despite my calm judgment, I felt an odd sense of abandonment and dissatisfaction when she asked to go over, let alone stay the night.

Was I not perfectly entertaining? What did Hendrickson have that I lacked, besides a silly sword and skeletal structure?! Pah!

Don't mind it, don't mind it. She's practically a kid still.

Perhaps I'd spank her a bit more gently.

While I contemplated magically taking my frustrations out on the wildlife outside of town, Val woke up. Once she spotted me, she rubbed her eyes and leisurely stretched.

"... Good morning."

Val muttered that lightly, then rolled over. I froze, staring at her nervously. Safe?

It was a bit odd, but I'd noticed her chattiness didn't ramp up until an hour or so after she woke. Perhaps she just wasn't a morning person? I could relate to that.

I made a mental note to never introduce her to coffee, then resumed my work.

Killing some more time, I continued my mixing experiments. The nice thing about this world and its game-like screens was that not only could I find out if I'd been poisoned soon after ingesting anything, my new body and magical abilities more or less let me eat whatever I wanted with little ill effect. Had it not been for these key elements, I'd never be able to learn ... 'alchemy'.

Really though, let's be frank. It was just a mystical way of saying I was a pharmacist in training. Alchemy? That's some silly bullshit from a kid's show or something. So unscientific.

When Val finally got up, she stared at me strangely for a moment before abruptly closing her mouth and heading toward the bathroom. When I say 'bathroom', it was actually a relatively decent setup, all things considering. Bathtubs existed, and they actually had semi-proper toilets and a sewer system at this inn. Thank the Boxes, we were moving up in life!

Amalia's voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Roz? Roz, are you awake?"

"No. Now stop interrupting my dreams. I was just getting to the part with the scantily clad chef serving me sous vide steak and roasted potatoes."

Amalia seemed to be at a loss for a reply, which caused me to sigh.

"What is it, Amalia? Are you ready for us to come get you? Or is Hendrickson bringing you over?"

There was a pause.

"He said he can bring me, if that's alright."

I replied affirmatively, then began the torturous process of 'dressing myself'. These wrappings were the most troublesome part. Imitating human skin was too much of a drain when combined with everything else. I didn't have the confidence that someone looking closely wouldn't spot blatant oddities in my ruse, should I attempt it. As such, bandages were necessary.

Val was informed of our departure, and we soon set out. The town was already starting to fill with people, though less than yesterday. This caused me to stick a bit closer to Val than usual. The last thing I needed was a careless oaf flooring me. It was hard enough to walk as is.

We decided to meet up at the same spot as yesterday, near Arnie's workshop. Val was currently loaded down with a hefty amount of ore, looking rather strained. Obviously, I couldn't carry it myself right now, and she didn't seem to have quite the same bodily strength Amalia did.

Do your best, Val. I'm counting on you.

We sat on a bench, Val panting lightly. Amalia soon showed up, with a broad smile on her face and looking abnormally chipper. Something felt a bit different about her. Hendrickson brought up the rear, this time in a full set of armor and a sword at his side. He looked oddly professional dressed as such.

We haven't been taken very seriously, for obvious reasons. Perhaps I need to review our attire? Work uniforms? No no, that'll never work. But maybe a dress code would ...

"Good morning, Miss Rozalin," Hendrickson said, interrupting my thoughts, "Thank you for letting me entertain young Amalia for the night. It was an honor."

I watched as the old man deeply bowed my way, a hand over his chest. He sure knew how to talk politely. Such chatter always annoyed me. Hendrickson and I made brief niceties while I stared at Amalia and tried to figure out what was bothering me. Something was off.

"... still though, you've a very keen eye. I'm a bit jealous that you picked up such a promising young woman. I didn't expect she was still Unclassed. It was quite a fright!"

While Hendrickson was chuckling to himself, his words caused a click! within my mind. I squinted at Amalia.

"Amalia, ... what did you do?"

My question came over the Link, slow and deliberate. I watched as her eyes swam around and her tail's wagging ceased.

"Amaliaaa ..."

"L-Let me explain!"

Three words that I absolutely hated hearing popped out of her mouth. ... Or rather, her mind. As she continued, I only found myself getting more upset.

"I was talking to Mr. Hendrickson about Classes! He told me some things after we sparred, and it made a lot of sense!"

I wonder, can I spank an old man, too? Ah, now that I'm really looking at him, his beard isn't nearly as impressive as I first thought. If I strike him hard enough, maybe it'll come off. Then I can—

"—Roz, I don't think I'll be able to get a better Class. Mr. Hendrickson says that people supplement the Class as they get stronger, and it might even go up a rank! He said that having a Rare-rank Class for my very first Class would be super unusual! That normally doesn't happen until the second or third advancement! He said someone getting a 'Legendary' Class to start off with is basically impossible."

My body quivered.

"Impossible? Didn't I tell you I'd done it? I was working on doing the same for you! Then you'd get stronger and stronger in the future! Gah!"

"B-But Roz! I think it's different for you! A-And the itching was getting really bad. I asked Mr. Hendrickson about Legendary Classes, and he said the only one he'd ever heard of was the 'Hero' class. And I, umm, ... I don't think that's possible for me."

This slap of information was invading my brain. She was saying some things that made sense. ... Still, I was definitely going to spank Amalia, but I had more immediate worries.

"So you chose a Class last night, didn't you?"

After a pause, she replied affirmatively. I wanted to smack my Core off something. Didn't she realize one of the numerous reasons I'd been practicing Healing magic so much was so I could heal her if she tried peeking at the conditions again? Sure, last time she'd looked into that lovely abyss she'd nearly bled out and she was a gibbering mess, but I'd been devising workarounds for that!

... It would just require a bit of pain tolerance and bravery on her part. Ahem.

Hendrickson was now looking at me oddly and Val had a troubled smile barely hanging on to her face.

"... Whatever, we'll figure it out later. What's done is done, there's no use getting upset. Fill me in on the details later. I want a full report. What he said, your replies, any news Skills—everything."

This bout of information just made me realize how much I needed to understand this world's logic and rules better. I needed that damn library, or someone to teach me things like this so I could make better decisions. I finally snapped my attention back to Hendrickson.

"Apologies. I was speaking with Amalia."

I looked again at Hendrickson. Honestly, I wanted to skewer the man with an Ice Bolt after this inconvenience. Something told me that would be a bad idea. I felt something similar to pressure coming from the man. Perhaps an instinctual fear? ... No, more like worry. I didn't think he would be a pushover.

Tch! Whatever.

I informed Hendrickson that we had business to attend to, then agreed to let Amalia return to his house in the evenings. She seemed intent on visiting again, so I conceded on the condition that I'd accompany her for a short while. I wanted to see where he lived and get more information on what was occurring there.

After we made plans to convene later and he departed, I scolded Amalia lightly a bit. This really was troublesome. I hated leaving things half-finished, and choosing an inferior Class for Amalia felt very much like so. I'd have to find a way to rectify this later.

First things first, we visited Arnie. That familiar clang! noise echoed lightly throughout the area. I imagine it smelled quite odd too. Not that I had a nose.

Upon entering, we were greeted by Arnie's kid, Ellis. Ellis looked at us a bit strangely, but that was to be expected. At the very least he'd recognized Amalia.

We waited for a short while. I heard Arnie's boisterous voice from the back, and he stepped out a few moments later, still tall and thick as a mountain. Having finally stood before the man on my own two sorta-feet, I could indeed gauge that he was enormous. Stupidly so. It made me feel uncomfortably small.

Arnie's voice boomed as he locked onto Amalia, "Heya, kid! Fancy seein' you again! And ye've got friends now! What's brought ya to ol' Arnie today?"

The mountain stood before us with his arms across his beefy chest. I told Amalia to open her bag, putting some of the ore on the table.

I spoke, "Arnie, we want to commission armor for Amalia. Can we use ore as payment?"

The smith's eyes turned and focused on me disapprovingly.

"N' who might you be?"

"Rozalin," I replied flatly.

His face continued to scrunch up, looking up and down my body. After looking back at Amalia once or twice, the iron cogs held within his skull seemed to finally resume motion.

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"Odd thing," he said slowly, "The kid here has a pet named Rozalin."

While at the time, that simple explanation had proved a safe cover story, it still irritated me. Me being her pet? Wasn't it the other way around?

"Calling me a 'pet' is a misunderstanding."

The confusion and mild shock on Arnie's face were near-palpable. Since he seemed preoccupied, I continued.

"If you aren't able to take on the job, that's fine."

I pointed at the unbagged ore, intently gauging his reaction. If I felt he was pulling one over on us, I fully intended to gather a second quote. I'd merely hoped he wouldn't try to shortchange Amalia since he seemed to more or less like her.

Arnie went over to the bag, grabbing a cluster of the ore and eyeing it carefully. As a blacksmith, Arnie was undoubtedly familiar with all manner of metals.

His eyes bulged a bit, then he let out a whistle.

"Where'n the blazes did ya get this much Nullstone?"

He began to rave a bit, which helped settle my nerves. I was hoping he'd take my reveal in stride, but it seems distracting him with shiny things was the best way to draw attention from myself.

While Arnie pulled lump after lump of ore out of the bag and inspected it all, we stood there blankly waiting for him to calm down. His son wore a chagrined expression, but that did little to stop the Ironhand train as it continued its motions.

"By my wife's tits! This's more pure than nearly all the Null I've seen in my days! Why, not since that time the ol' Baron wanted—" he began going on about something or another, "—makin' my hands itchy just lookin' at it!"

He finally turned to me. Then his excitement deflated. It seemed he was back to wrestling with my identity.

He coughed, "Say, uhh, Miss? Are ye really ... y'know."

I grimaced internally.

"Mr. Ironhand, you are very much a professional. As a professional, customer confidentiality is an important part of that. Since we both know the answer to that question, please don't ask. Could we discuss business details instead?"

Halfway through, he seemed to catch my drift. That did little to hide the amazement on his face. I was really hoping this didn't turn into a problem.

Nothing bad had come from our association with Arnie so far. He'd actually proven quite useful and kind—minus threatening to pummel me if I harmed Amalia—yet I wasn't keen to test that too much. The fewer contacts in town knew of my nature, the better. Just because I hadn't heard of any investigation into that Dungeon in the past few months didn't mean I was off the hook.

Now I just needed to leverage that Biron and his daughter, get more information, and maybe I could finally get that blunder to stop casting its shadow over my head. I needed that damn library. Then we had a Dungeon Boss to slay.

Arnie invited us into one of the side rooms where we sat down at a table. He pulled out a sheet of parchment, a scale and weights, then donned a comically small set of round glasses. His throaty, deep voice boomed on for quite a while, as Arnie completed numerous calculations and scribbled notes. I only followed about two-thirds of what he said.

His quill dexterously skimmed across the paper. I suppose a blacksmith isn't just all brawn. Seems like after doing this for so long, he knows his stuff. I'm actually a bit impressed by his calculating ability and penmanship!

"Market value for this much ore should be around 820 silver Leafs," he concluded.

It was my turn to be astounded.

Eight-hundred and twenty!? In other words, didn't that translate to 8 gold, 20 silver Leafs? And we hadn't even brought all the ore with us!

My throat stopped functioning. I couldn't have said anything had I wanted to. Instead, I turned toward Amalia and Val and felt my mental voice crackle over the Link.

"W-W-W-We need to go inn. B-Back to it! Inn! To the inn! Now!"

----------------------------------------

Roughly twenty minutes later, we returned to Arnie with the remainder of the ore in hand. While I'd secured and hidden our possessions, then locked the door, that did little to curtail my anxiety at having realized I'd left such a valuable haul unguarded. This was the third? No, perhaps the fourth time this morning I wanted to smack myself off a wall or desk. All I did was feed some Mana to a Dungeon Core! How in the seven Hells did it turn into this!?

The first thing I planned to do when we got back to the Dungeon outpost was milk Precious for every bit of Nullstone I could manage. I'd worry about trying not to flood the market later. This reeked of money!

At this point, I wasn't even mad that Amalia had chosen a Class without my permission anymore. We'd be eating well! I had a lot of ideas and plans now. Hell, I could tell that silly man and his daughter I didn't care about their reward money and actually (almost) mean it now!

I was in such a good mood, I attempted to hum a tune. Val and Amalia proceeded to look at me oddly, as I realized my humming was ... less than stellar.

Our return trip brought the grand total up to 2,755 silver Leafs. Amalia taught me that when written, a Leaf was shorthanded as "Ł", and a backward "B" stood for a Branch. Their writing style was much more angular and boxish than I'd ever seen. In summary, they looked like an L with a line and a triangular B flipped horizontally. This could be written a few ways, but apparently the norm was 27G 55S.

I won't get into the shape of their G's or S's. I knew what I needed to—we had a lot of money sitting here.

As I was happily thinking of all the things we could buy with so much cash, Arnie decided to douse my glee.

"Hate to break it to ya', but I don't have enough gold on hand to purchase this kinda stock all willy-nilly."

Eh?

Arnie went on to explain to us that he couldn't purchase more than a small portion of this 'Nullstone'. As much as he was, and I quote, 'hankerin' to shape some Null', he already had some minor work and commissions. To make things worse, he didn't advise we make a suit full of Nullstone. I'm told it was best to combine it with other metals and use the Nullstone as a coating. He then gave a technical explanation I only superficially understood.

It needs to be said. I am not a blacksmith. So what's with that pitying look in your eyes, Arnie!? I'm a trained accountant, not an idiot! I can talk about a ton of things you wouldn't understand!

My grumbling aside, the process would take a minimum of five days. While five days sounded like a long time given how impatient I was, I stopped and realized that such a speed was indeed ludicrously fast. Arnie said he'd be pushing himself to the limit the entire time. I began to wonder if having 'Blacksmith' as a Class enabled him to use some sort of blacksmithing superpowers.

Do your best, Arnie! I'm counting on you, too.

Amalia would need to be measured and fitted, details hashed out, supplies secured, and various other things. This all translated to one thing.

Amalia was going to be here during the next couple of afternoons, then at Hendrickson's during the evenings. I'd have to entertain Val by myself tomorrow and at least the day after.

That thought alone made me shrink up.

Personal anxiety aside, this was shaping up to be an excellent business deal. Perhaps 'work uniforms' weren't as distant a goal as I thought. Heck, I could even go back and pay for those miscellaneous things I'd pilfered from around town to make my disguise. One less thing to nag my conscience.

While talking to Arnie, there was one thing I noticed. Similar to Hendrickson, I felt an odd pressure coming from Arnie. I hadn't experienced this the first time we'd been here. What had changed? After a brief discussion with Amalia, she'd provided some insight.

"Well, that's probably because Arnie is a high-level blacksmith. Maybe you can just sense how strong he is?"

The conversation devolved into the technical and linguistic difference between a 'Class' and a 'Job'. Jobs were essentially Classes not designed for combat. It wasn't an important difference, but I made note. I'd been a bit careless with my wording, but monsters seemed to have 'Races and Evolutions', while humans had 'Classes and Rank-Ups'. And Jobs, kind of. And also a Race, but 'human' was obvious so they didn't care about that? I guess?

Ugh. People are over-complicated as usual.

Arnie and I worked out the details regarding payment, and he even offered to store the ore in one of his coffers. I discussed with him the properties of Nullstone and tried to find a balance of how much to use. Given the astronomical cost, no one in their right mind would compose an entire suit of the stuff. Something I nearly let happen.

He offered insight into what grade of iron and steel might be used, along with costs. There were some other metals that he noted would provide superior protection to even these, but when I heard the cost, I shied away. Amalia was still growing. There'd be plenty of time and income to produce a better suit. Hopefully, by then I'd know what I was doing regarding armor.

Arnie had a supplier for the cloth and leather goods. Something they called an 'arming doublet' was to be made. I guess it was used to mount the metal plates. Arnie noted some more exotic and pricey materials that could cut down on the weight and increase defensive strength of the doublet against blunt trauma. I made a few concessions to avoid overburdening Amalia, but this level of quality seemed enough to stop arrows, sword, and magic.

The doublet for arrows and blunt trauma, the plate mail for swords, with Nullstone to help ward off magic.

I was worrying over the quality and where to draw the line, but Arnie said something that reassured me.

"Don't worry. I've a thought on what to make. Just leave it to old Arnie here, ya dig!? Gyahaha!"

As he bellowed out a long laugh, I could do little but rely on his expertise and hope for a good end-result. I'd instructed Arnie that I'd sell 10-percent of the ore for daily funds and keep another 10-percent for my own personal use. I planned to consume it so I could grow some on my own with Mineralization. The rest could be used for the armor or its costs. With such a healthy budget, he assured me the suit would serve her well and be comparatively light.

We left Arnie's smithery for the day. He nearly shooed us out, stating he needed to start 'hammering away' at his backlog. I had a few more personal projects I wanted to see if he could design, but shelved the idea for later. I wanted to get Val something since she'd been relatively behaved the past few days. A sign-on bonus, of sorts.

After a brief rest at the inn, we wandered around town. Amalia and Val bought some food, while I eyed the people and stalls. I was still getting strange looks.

Val was able to find a rather stately green dress with gold embroidery, which seemed to complement her dark-green hair rather nicely. It was much better than the bland outfit she'd been donning previously. Coupled with her features, she stood out like a sore thumb.

Amalia found a ... doll. I saw her eyeing it from a distance. The longing on her face was undisguised, so I ushered her to purchase it. Given our windfall, such a cheap doll was affordable, to say the least. Amalia seemed troubled and reluctant to spend more money, but after some verbal coaxing and threats, she caved in.

The doll was a cute, tan-colored ... dog? It kind of looked like a dingo, but I couldn't really tell. It wasn't particularly well made by modern standards, though I suppose that meant little here. Amalia seemed content to hug the thing, while Val was much rosier in the cheeks after having donned 'garb more appropriate for one from such a distinguished family as she'.

Having uplifted my employees' spirits, we returned to the inn.

While less strenuous than yesterday, I was still running on fumes. Time was spent meditating. Amalia and Val chatted with each other, then left to go check out the town. There was a festival in the northern part of town which they decided to visit. I still wasn't a fan of them wandering off without me, but going myself was undesirable.

I spent the afternoon attempting to plan our finances and work on concocting a few potions. I was expecting to use a great deal of Mana to heal that noble's daughter. Preparations were slowly made.

While I was tinkering around, I heard an incredibly faint noise come from the locked window. I stopped what I was doing immediately. A Domain anchor was thrown down as I quickly hid underneath the bed.

I watched with some clarity as a slender woman picked the window open and near-noiselessly slid into the room. Her footsteps were soundless. Anger flared within me.

Was this little bitch trying to rob us!?

With boiling anger in my heart, I eyed the woman as she scanned around the room, seemingly deciding she was alone. She slinked about, moving toward the room's dresser. A moment was spent in front of my potion ingredients, then in the bathroom, before she seemed to conclude something.

Amalia had our funds, so I wasn't particularly worried about anything within the room, but this was a huge matter of principle! I wanted to flay this person!

After a few moments of quiet rummaging, she finally whispered a sigh of discontent.

"Tch! Damn foreigners. Boss musta got it wrong. Nothing good here, 'less they took it wit 'em."

This would-be thief had the audacity to casually lay upon my bed. She began muttering something about what to do next. Her heady voice and thick accent nearly drove me over the edge. How dare she come into my residence and act like she owned the damn place! I had half a mind to eat her right here and now!

Calm down. You promised you wouldn't kill anybody unless it was strictly necessary. Do not skewer her with Ice Bolts then singe all her hair off.

The woman above me sighed, "Gonna have tae turn tricks if this keeps up. What shite luck."

While I was holding back murderous intentions and eyeing her carefully below the narrow confines of the bed, she casually flipped off it. After a moment longer, she vanished out the balcony, the same way she came. I was livid.

What kind of bullshit public order was going on in this town that a thief could break into our room midday? Was it because of that festival? Is there some kind of crime syndicate in this town? Am I just that unlucky!?

I quietly noted to keep an eye out during the middle of the night. What's more, if I found this so-called 'Boss', they and I were going to have some very choice words. Of the gargling and choking variety.

This encounter made me realize a few things. Home security needed a higher priority. Did people think we were an easy target to rob? This is the second time now. Once can be considered an accident, twice is a pattern.

I began stewing over these recent events.

I had a concise feeling that this burglary attempt had to do with our entry into town, visit to Arnie's place, hauling the ore, and overall appearance. Amalia was well-dressed, but gave off the impression of an easy target. Val had a noble demeanor, but that's about it. She wasn't particularly intimidating, so that makes easy target number two. Finally, me. That makes three sitting ducks.

The afternoon was spent contemplating. After a while, Amalia and Val came back. Amalia was nice enough to buy me some fried meat, which I slowly chewed on, aka dissolved. There was really no good way to put this, so I decided to just come out with things.

"Amalia, Val, we got robbed after you left."

They looked at me like I was a foreign object. Val tilted her head, while Amalia's brow furrowed.

"Roz, what do you mean 'robbed'?" Amalia asked.

"Exactly as I said. Some woman came through the window and prowled around. If she'd come this morning, our ore would've been gone."

At this, Amalia's eyes finally bugged out.

"W-W-What should we do!? Should I ask Mr. Hendrickson for help? Or may⁠—wait, ... Roz, if we got robbed, why didn't you stop them?"

I stared at my pup in disappointment.

"And risk blowing my cover? For what? She didn't take anything, else I'd have stopped her. Violently."

Amalia's mouth twitched, "O-Oh, I guess that's true."

I continued, "It would have been different if she stole something. If she'd come while you slept, it would have been very different."

Amalia seemed to have caught my drift, so she clamed up.

Val spoke up, "What might you propose we do in such a startling situation? It is quite undesirable to consider thieves breaking into our living arrangement, even should you act as a sentry throughout the night."

Her nose scrunched up, as a faint disgust seemed to spread across her face. Yet I was in agreement with Val. Even if I were able to keep watch, this left a foul taste in my mouth. We needed someplace to stay that was more secure. Or I'd have to start making people disappear. Amalia wouldn't like that, and I was slightly worried that retribution might come should I employ such a tactic.

A depression set in. We could try another inn, but I wasn't really sure where a safe one would be. This was already supposed to be one of the better inns in town.

The three of us put our heads together to come up with a solution. Really though, our options were limited. It wasn't looking good.

After a short while, Amalia piped up.

"Maybe we could stay with Mr. Hendrickson for a few nights?"

My mind ground to a halt. I looked at her for a very long while. Her ears sagged back down, and she gave me that annoying puppy dog look, like I'd just stepped on her tail.

"Amalia, we are not—and I repeat, not—staying at that man's house. I don't care if it's for a single day."

Staying with Hendrickson was a risk. No matter how much she begged, no matter how offended I was that someone broke in here, I absolutely, positively was not going to subject myself to that man's company.

"B-But Roz, he's got plenty of beds and spare rooms. The food was delicious, and they even had a heated steam bath. You should see the courtyard! It's great for sparring! I don't think they'd mind. ..."

I paused, then turned to Amalia.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that middle bit?"