Chapter 172
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 172
Chapter Title: Holiday
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"Whoa, fuck, this is fucking cool!"
"Oh man, customer! You look fucking awesome!"
"Fuck, isn't the boss's craftsmanship just too damn good?!"
"Haha! Of course it is!"
The energy in the room skyrocketed.
This pitch-black Quilted Armor, designed like a trench coat, had the effect of completely shattering the wearer's charm limiter the moment it was put on, transforming them into an insanely stylish hunk.
"Kui-kui!"
I struck all sorts of poses in excitement while wearing it.
"No way! What insane martial prowess!"
No bullshit, it was fucking stylish. First off, the black color hit the spot, and above all, the fit perfectly matched my superior build, providing perfect harmony. The comfort was great, and the defense looked solid too.
The finishing touches and decorative patterns were to my liking as well.
From what I'd heard, it was made with some top-notch materials. There might be some exaggeration, but having tried it on and felt it myself, I knew it wasn't empty talk.
It was decent armor.
The frilly old armor I'd been using? Sayonara as of today.
Sell that junk here and add the cash to buy this one.
"A man has to rock a coat, fuck."
It's been fucking ages since I wore one.
All-black is eternal.
Once you go coat, you go all-black.
I decided to buy it.
"Boss. Pants next—something combat-ready! Oh! Black!"
"Of course!"
Since I was going all-black, I decided on black pants too. The ones he brought had reinforced leather on the thighs and cargo pockets, super practical.
I tried those on right away.
"Customer! It fits you fucking perfectly! Matches your hair color spot-on! Looks like I made that outfit just to sell to you!"
"Th-that...! Made just to sell to me?!"
Now I had to buy it.
I asked the price in shock, and the boss answered passionately.
"All together, 10 silvers! No! I'll knock it down for you! 9 silvers! No! Taking your old Quilted Armor too... special price of 8 silvers!"
"Purchase complete!"
This killer deal for a whopping 8 silvers!
I blew through all the Kobold cave earnings in an instant! But who cares! I had emergency funds from the arena haul!
Truth be told, I had a decent stash besides that.
"Oh, and my belt's pretty worn—got a new one..."
Might as well swap the belt too while I'm here. It's been through a lot. Of course, the sheath, utility pouch, and canteen all attach to the belt, so no issue.
"What the hell! Service—I'll throw one in!"
"Uncle, can I come back here next time?!"
"Of course!"
I stepped out with unusually high spirits intact. Gotta make this my go-to armor shop from now on. The boss seemed like a real pro. He knew how to make customers happy.
Good gear leads to good combat power. Now I was a charming guy who'd nailed both fashion and fighting prowess.
All-black fashion with silver gleaming on the breastplate, gauntlets, and greaves. The pauldrons being brown solo didn't ruin it—that was within coolness tolerance. Even I thought I looked damn good.
Call it Kim Katt Alter.
And despite the unbelievable impulse buy of the old Quilted Armor swap for 8 silvers, no mental shock hit. Buying gear is never a waste.
It's an investment.
An absolute investment in the future and safety.
No different from paying Karin for sword lessons.
I was deeply satisfied.
"Earning money makes this shit possible...!"
It felt like grinding your ass off in an RPG to finally snag a high-end weapon. Sweet rush! Ride this wave to the weapon shop! Pick a solid sidearm!
Nothing beats the thrill of choosing a new weapon!
Men love weapons no matter the age!
"Welcome."
I headed straight to the weapon shop next door. The muscled blacksmith glanced at me once, then back to his work. What was he forging? No intent to bother him, so I quietly browsed.
The rough interior reeked of iron and fire.
Workshop and sales floor all in one. But this vibe screamed experience. I checked the weapons one by one.
Double-bladed axes, greatswords, spears... a lineup optimized for murder. Amid them, I spotted sidearm candidates. What to pick? Hand axe? Good power, throwable too.
But might not recover it if thrown.
Then it's suicide—no other way.
Wasted cash.
That thought nuked my hand axe interest like creepy adult dudes smashing kids' elaborate sandcastles at the beach for kicks.
Fucking pedo thugs.
What the hell are you assholes doing in a kids' play area?
Hand axe skipped.
Fucking bastards.
"Looking for something?"
The owner approached while I stood there.
Why do shop owners hate seeing customers idle?
Anyway.
What to get.
Stick with familiar?
"...Looking for a decent knife as a sidearm."
"Knife, huh."
He turned, squatted, rummaged the bottom shelf. Pulled out a few daggers and knives, dragged a table from the corner, laid them out.
"Pick one."
"Ho ho."
Eight in total.
Blades gleaming, souls of the maker in them. I picked one that caught my eye. A large knife, just under 40cm.
"Ooh, nice grip."
"You know your stuff, customer. That's a well-made one."
Broad single-edged knife.
Rambo knife vibe appealed. Good size, heftier than expected—solid grip. Price with sheath: 3 silvers.
Decent deal. Let's go with it.
Spending a lot today, but prepaying future expenses. Gear lasts ages—no frequent buys. Better convert cash to goods before wasting it.
"This one. Perfect sidearm."
"Good eye... That knife's useful even outside combat, for all sorts of things."
"Yeah. Camping out, that kinda stuff."
I handed over three silver coins. He pocketed them, pondered, eyed me.
"Y'know, you look like a solid warrior."
"Heh, that obvious?"
Unexpected praise made me grin back.
Yeah, I'd become a decent warrior lately.
"Build and gear say it all. Got something you'd be interested in. Wanna hear?"
"Sure, why not. Curious what juicy tale it is."
Some commission? No harm listening. He nodded at my go-ahead, stowing the coins, and spoke.
"Heard orcs showed up nearby. You know? Nah, you're an adventurer—probably ahead of the curve. You guys hear rumors first."
What? Orcs?
Why the fuck are those shits showing up?
"Hmm, first I've heard. Been training in the city lately—no rumor mill access. Big news?"
"If I know it, it's big. Anyway, you didn't? I'll explain."
No wonder guys like Kobson always knew this shit.
Thinking of him made me miss the bastard. Owe him a drink... Honestly, I'd outgrown hanging with him, but I wasn't petty enough to ditch the friendship.
Good.
Time to meet up.
"Word is, orcs routed from Baron Todens' territory scattered everywhere, wandering nearby. Those stragglers raid pioneer villages or outskirts. Bounties per head, I hear... dunno details. Anyway."
Baron Todens' land was one city near Isvant. Named after the baron ruling it, I guess. Details? Clueless.
I barely knew this isekai fantasy world. Ignorance galore.
The owner continued.
Already useful info.
"If you kill any and snag their weapons, bring 'em here? Got interest in their weapon tech. Research itch, y'know. Might spark ideas. Pay well. Not a formal request—just remember, and if you get orc gear, drop it off."
"Mm... Got it. If I get orc weapons, I'll bring 'em. Promise."
"Thanks."
Bowed and left.
Orc stragglers, huh. Reminded me of Beruberza.
Strongest one-on-one monster I'd faced? Dryad first, then Gladiator Orc Beruberza, then Kobold Guardian.
All tough as nails, but Dryad was fast yet light-hitting. Beruberza had power and skill, but weakened by age, illness, bad eyes.
Kobold Guardian was brute force. But brains and technique lacking. Raw strength ain't enough. Overall, Beruberza tops.
So, plain wild orcs? Never seen one.
Anyway, noted—loot weapons if I bag orcs.
"...What? This boiling feeling?"
Something surged inside.
—It was battle lust.
Thirst for blood...!
I wanted to fight orcs right now!
"Ha, haha... hahaha!"
This the warrior's spirit!
From good gear, unbelievable fighting spirit rose.
New gear demands a test.
Composed myself. Not now. Buy rations first, head to lodging. Not late yet, but dawdled plenty. Enter and Winia'd yell.
Activated Active Skill: Fleet Foot to dash to base. Stopped at food shop en route, grabbed soft bread and fruits, stashed in bag.
Reached the lodging door.
—Creak. Opened slow.
Curtained room dark despite daytime. Air some ventilation? Stuffy heat hung heavy. Made sense seeing Winia and Claudy's state—steamy.
"Wow..."
Naked, tangled embrace, soft breaths in sleep. They'd gotten physically close. Especially Winia's breasts pressed to Claudy's, rising slow with breaths—nice.
This modern art...!
Dunno the meaning, but damn good...!
Undressed quiet not to wake them, showered, came out. Nothing to do, sorted gear silently, covered them, lay beside Claudy.
No waking meant exhaustion from overdoing despite pain.
Sheets never dry from wet spots.
But what the hell did they do...!
Why are Winia's tits red and swollen?!