The crowd in front of Michael's stall had finally dispersed after he sold out his entire stock. He slung his now-empty bag over his shoulder and exhaled.
Captain Darius stood nearby, watching the street settle back into order.
"I'll give you some advice," he said evenly. "You're going to need a proper shop soon. This small stall of yours can't handle business at this scale anymore. If we get more complaints next time, we'll have to take action."
Michael nodded respectfully. "I understand — and I apologize again for the trouble. Also, thank you. Honestly, if it weren't for you and your men, I probably would've been crushed under that crowd."
Darius's expression softened just a fraction. "It's our duty. But you should know — you'll need an assistant soon. From what I can tell, your workload's only going to get heavier from here."
"You're right," Michael said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "But as I mentioned earlier, I only started this business yesterday. Finding someone trustworthy to hire that quickly… isn't exactly easy."
The Captain let out a low hum. "Then perhaps you should consider purchasing one or two slaves. That might be a more practical option for you."
Michael blinked. Slaves?
So this world really is like a typical fantasy one…
[Yes, Host. Slavery does exist here. However, unlike on Earth, slaves in this world are magically bound to their masters. This means their loyalty is absolute — they can't escape or betray you under any circumstance. For someone establishing a business, owning a slave can be a strategic advantage. I also recommend it.]
Wow, Michael thought. Now I really feel like a proper fantasy novel protagonist — the type who buys a few cute slave girls before heading off on an adventure.
"Hey, you still with me?" the Captain asked.
"Ah, yes, of course," Michael replied quickly. "I was just wondering if I could actually afford one."
"Of course you can," the Captain said. "Many merchants use slaves for labor and protection. They aren't exactly cheap, though. Their price depends on several factors — status, species, skill, and rank. The higher those are, the more expensive they become. But once you own one, there are no wages to pay, and they never complain — no matter the workload. In fact," he added with a knowing look, "they're often more reliable than free people."
A slow grin tugged at Michael's lips. "That sounds even better. That's exactly what I need."
"Umm… then if you're interested, visit the Slave Traders' Market on the west side of the town. Just… make sure you know what kind of slave you're buying, also do not purchase a slave whose language you cannot understand. For example, elves have their own language—so if you don't know their tongue, or the elf you've bought doesn't understand your, it may could cause serious problems."
Huh! Well, he wasn't wrong about that. It's a good thing I have the Linguistic Comprehension skill — so language is never a problem for me. This skill has really helped me a lot.
Michael nodded once. "Understood. And thank you for the advice, Captain."
Darius gave a brief nod. "Good. Then we'll be on our way. Hope we meet again soon."
With that, he turned away, his guards following close behind.
After that, Michael set off toward the western part of the city, heading for the slave market. He was buzzing with excitement, wondering what kinds of slaves he might buy.
Here, the streets were crowded with people. Not all of the town's roads were paved with stone, and the one he was walking on now was made of dirt — soft, uneven, and full of mud — so he had to watch his step carefully.
This road reminded Michael of those third-world streets he'd seen in movies back home — packed with people, trash everywhere, and mud covering everything.
A cart rattled by, splashing a clump of muddy water right at his feet.
He scowled, ready to curse—
Then—
Bump.
A girl slammed into him. "Oops! Sorry, mister!" she said sweetly.
"No worries," Michael replied automatically.
She smiled, gave a quick bow, and darted off into the crowd.
For a second, Michael didn't think much of it—
Then—
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[Warning]
Host, you've just been robbed...
Theft detected: Unidentified female
Target distance: 4 meters and increasing.
Recommended Action: Immediate retrieval advised.
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Michael blinked. "...What?"
His hand shot to his belt—and froze.
The pouch was gone.
He snapped his head up.
The girl was already vanishing into the crowd.
"HEY!"
People turned. The girl glanced back. Their eyes met.
Then she bolted.
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[Mini-Task Initiated]
Recover Stolen Property
Objective: Retrieve your coin pouch before the target escapes the market district.
Reward: EXP +200
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Michael's eyes narrowed. "Oh, hell no. You don't steal from me."
He gave chase — ducking between carts, vaulting over fruit stands, dodging an old woman, and almost flattening a chicken.
The girl darted into a quiet alley. Michael followed — only to skid to a stop when three men stepped out of the shadows.
One had a knife. Another was shirtless, covered in tattoos, built like a wall. The third just looked tired of life.
"Got a problem, kid?" Knife Guy sneered.
Michael brushed off his coat. "Yeah. Your little apprentice stole my money."
Knife Guy chuckled. "So what're you gonna do about it? You were a fool to come this far."
"Hmph! I wanted to run away with some money from you, but since you've come this far like a loser, then give us all your belongings now," the girl said.
"Yeah," said the tattooed one, grinning. "Give us all your stuff, and maybe we won't feed you to the rats."
Michael sighed. "You're gonna regret this."
Sista, I want to beat those guys.
[Understood, Host. Based on my current analysis, your odds of victory are favorable. Their combat techniques are primitive — predictable and uncoordinated. But still, if you want, I can activate some support mode for an easy victory. Yes or no?]
Yes.
Because of course he didn't want to take any risks.
This was a fantasy medieval world — and these thugs had been born into a place where fighting, bloodshed, and survival were part of daily life.
[Understood, Host.]
[Activating limited support mode: Dimensional Energy consumed – 3%.]
[Temporary Buffs Applied:]
→ Reflex Enhancement (Minor)
→ Muscle Output Boost (Light)
→ Presence Distortion (Low Intensity)
[Enemy Status Adjustment: Hostile entities experiencing minor psychological suppression.]
A faint tingle rushed through his body as the System message faded. His muscles felt lighter, sharper — like adrenaline under control.
Michael flexed his fingers, feeling raw power surge through his veins.
"Damn," he muttered under his breath. "Feels good… like a shot of caffeine straight to the veins."