Merchant Guild's Request (1)
Brockton was always shrouded in thick, hazy smoke. The city was a hub specialized in factories, with countless plants dotting the landscape, which meant smog was a constant phenomenon blanketing the streets.
Vroooom! On the way to the square, trams zipped through the city streets. Inside, I could see citizens in top hats and dresses, and occasionally ability users loaded with various weapons.
It was a scene that still felt utterly alien to me.
'This way.'
The square was divided into districts. One area clustered with restaurants, another with clothing shops. And on one side, there was a zone dedicated to stores selling gear for ability users. That was exactly where I needed to go.
'First, let's check out the Merchant Guild.'
I decided to visit the Merchant Guild before hunting for gear. I knew the broad strokes of the story, but only the big picture. What I was about to do wasn't part of the original storyline, so I needed to get a precise read on the situation.
I headed to the address Angela had given me. Finding the building was easy—a two-story structure with a sign reading Merchant Guild out front.
Screeech.
"How can I help you?"
"I'm here for a request."
"Ah, you're here to take a commission? Please wait just a moment!"
The woman who greeted me hurried into another room. Moments later, a middle-aged man came rushing out.
"Ah, finally! Thank goodness you came! We put in the request and heard nothing back—I thought it was done for! Kahahaha!"
A protruding belly. A tight vest straining over it. He immediately handed me a business card, which read Jeston, President of the Merchant Guild.
"Come on in. Hey, bring us some coffee?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Americano, please."
"You heard him—Americano. Come on now..."
The president, Jeston, was fawning over me quite a bit. From that alone, I could guess the situation. They were taking heavy losses from the recent raids, and it was giving them massive headaches.
"First, tell me what's going on."
"Ah, yes, of course. See, we import goods from the neighboring city of Cherwin. You know how gear's not exactly abundant around here."
Jeston dabbed at his sweating brow with a handkerchief nonstop, even though he was just sitting there.
"But lately, we've been getting ambushed during transport."
"Do you know who's behind it?"
"Well, we can't say for sure, but the survivors mentioned tattoos and black clothes. Probably the mafia, I'd wager."
It was definitely the mafia. Descartes had them in tow during his early operations.
"And there's some ability user mixed in. You think we can handle types like that?"
"Have you talked to the guards?"
"You call that help? Of course we did!"
Jeston flushed red and got worked up at the mention of the guards. Brockton had a guard unit called the Divine Guard, who wielded holy power.
"We told them, but it was useless! All that talk of 'holiness' this and 'holiness' that. They're prioritizing some blasphemy incident on the outskirts right now—said they're swamped and to just wait..."
"The outskirts."
I knew exactly what that was about. It had to be the commotion caused by Descartes, who was just starting to flex his power. One of the events about to unfold.
Specifically, Descartes taking over the city of Brockton.
'It was a temporary event, but he still seized control of Brockton.'
Descartes claimed the city with his own strength, turning it into his territory. Of course, Angela's request office was the one place that stayed untouched. She wasn't someone you messed with lightly.
"Anyway, commissioning help was our only option. For some reason, Angela's place never got back to us. Do you know how long we've been waiting for a request taker like you?"
After that, the president kept bowing low, pleading for my help. He really was desperate. And no wonder—merchants were the most sensitive to money matters, yet they were suffering massive losses with no one to turn to.
To them, I must've looked like a savior. That's why he was buttering me up, making sure I didn't bail on the job.
"So, when's departure?"
"Ah! No time to waste—we go right away! It's the route from Cherwin here, so come to us tomorrow night. We'll head out with our trucks, and I'll have all our merchants there to greet you properly!"
"Got it."
I got the urgency, but calling out every single merchant? It felt a bit much, but I had the gist. They were truly in a bind.
* * *
I stepped back out into the square. I had some time left, so I needed to prepare. That meant heading to the gear district for shopping.
Stores lined both sides of the main road, stretching out endlessly. There were so many it seemed overwhelming to check them all at once.
'Let's scan the whole area.'
But no need to waste time wandering. I didn't have to.
Weapon Detection
Vwoooong— The waves emanating from my body swept over the entire street, and soon lights began leaking from the shops. Among them, one spot glowed blue—the light signifying rare grade.
'Over there.'
Screeech.
The shop specialized in shields. Perfect—I needed one anyway.
Fighting Khalid had taught me a lesson: prepare for ranged attacks too. The next commission would likely be the same. The enemies were mafia. They had a nasty habit of whipping out machine guns, and without exceptional armor, a barrage from them could be a real problem for me.
'If I had my own protection skill unlocked, maybe.'
A few machine guns were manageable, but a whole group firing away? Tricky. A shield would help big time.
"Welcome!"
As I entered, the shopkeeper greeted me. Short stature, white hair, a unique look with mutton chops connecting to his chin beard.
'But why's it coming from over there...'
Oddly, the blue light wasn't from the displayed items—it seeped from a corner, from a pile of shields that looked discarded.
"Looking for a specific shield?"
The owner approached, rubbing his hands with a salesman's grin.
"Just browsing."
"By all means! Heh heh, you look like an ability user. Mind if I see your rank card? Gotta prepare the right stuff accordingly. Heh heh."
Slyly probing my status, the old fox acting his age. I showed him the rank card from Angela.
"Can I check those out?"
"Hahaha, of course! As a fresh Silver-rank just starting out seriously, you need solid gear! One moment!"
I pretended interest in other shields first, and he quickly fetched the ones I pointed to.
"Here you go! These are pretty decent too—take a look!"
He showed me a few from the wall display. All normal-grade shields.
"As you can see, they just scream quality, right? All rare-grade gear."
"...Rare?"
They looked normal-grade at a glance, but he calls them rare? What was this guy on about? Did he think Silver-ranks were total noobs?
Trying to rip me off soured the mood.
"Yes, yes. First time shopping for rank-2 gear? Trust me on this—I don't stock anything subpar! Hahaha!"
"I see."
"Yes, yes. Have a feel."
He shoved the normal-grade ones at me, insisting they were rare. I half-listened, but he smirked like I'd bitten. Wonder how much he'd gouge me for.
"How much for this shield?"
"That one? Hmm... Normally a million babel, but I'll do 800,000 for you. Haha!"
Down to 800k from a million. Even for rank-2, normal-grade gear like this—sans options or Mana Coating—was overpriced at 400k tops. How much markup was this?
'He planned this.'
The owner's intentions were clear. But I wasn't falling for it.
"I'm more curious about those."
I ignored his display and pointed to the piled-up shields.
"Ah, those? Just recycled stock we're holding for resale."
"Recycled."
"Yeah. Used gear bought cheap and flipped. Interested?"
His cheerful grin darkened a bit. He probably thought I was broke, eyeing the junk pile.
"I'd like to see them."
"Ah, sure, sure. Knock yourself out."
He sat back down, clearly annoyed, picking at his ear nonstop.
"Those were trash anyway—pick what you want. First customer of the day... sigh."
His irritation was blatant now. It was getting on my nerves. But more than that, I was curious about the glowing shield inside the pile.
Rare-grade usually came with two options, and higher ranks meant solid ones too.
Clatter! Clank!
I shoved aside the useless normal-grade shields and found the blue-glowing one.
'This is it.'
A rectangular black-lacquered shield. Worn-looking as he said, but appearances didn't matter. Only the options did.
'Mana Coating as standard. Not bad at all.'
The other options were perfectly suited too. Optimized for a shield.
'He wasn't lying about only stocking good stuff.'
Not that he meant to, of course. But to me, it rang true. A rare-grade shield with killer options, right here.
"How much for this?"
"You really want that? Fine, just 100,000 babel."
100k babel. If he knew its true value, he'd never let it go that cheap. At least 1.2 million easy.
"Thanks."
"No need to thank me."
"No, really. I'm grateful."
"What're you going on about... Just buy it and go."
The words slipped out naturally. He didn't take them well.
"One more thing before you leave. Some advice."
As I turned to go, the owner called out.
"From your speech, you're not local. No matter how capable, lugging around shoddy gear like that is a death wish. Next time you come, bring cash. Even in Brockton, showing up broke for rank-2 gear... tch."
Was this old man nuts? Treating a request taker like me this way? Figured since I wasn't local, no repercussions? Game lore or just him being a jerk?
Hard to swallow.
"......"
"Deal with guys like us, and you ability users bleed us dry. Don't pull this cheap crap next time."
He kept crossing lines. But I knew exactly how to handle him.
"You're part of the Merchant Guild too, right?"
"What? The Guild? Obviously—every shop here is! You really are clueless!"
"Ah, good enough."
"Huh? What're you—"
Screeech.
Confirmed he was in the Guild, and I left. Yeah, you're Guild too. See you soon—bowing next to their president.
I reminded myself: touch me, and I hit back tenfold.
'Now, let's properly check this shield.'
I wanted to inspect the options on my bargain rare-grade, rank-2 shield in detail.