*Date: 33,480 Third Quarter — Kingdom of Satar, Capital City Parthanon*
Alef and Lysara had only spared five silver from their money. Since there was no loot from monsters and their game currency was locked in their inaccessible inventories, they were being strict with what to spend on. They had to hold onto most of their funds to potentially buy tournament prizes from the winners.
Demir's body ached from chasing Asena through the forest all night, apologizing for leaving her outside. But now he had to focus. He had to gather some money and also create time to visit the whole town in order to drop word about Aris.
Marco stretched as they prepared to leave the rented house. "Give me the silver so I'll buy ingots. You lovebirds head on to the workshop."
Marven's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Be careful what you throw out in the open, old man. It might come back to bite you."
"I saw how you two look at each other."
Demir felt heat rising to his face. "Hey, Marco, that is enough. I..."
Marven saw Demir blushing and quickly changed the subject. "How good is your haggling? You're good as a helper for Demir. Give me the money. I'll buy ingots and a few hilts for the swords."
Marco crossed his arms. "What makes you a good haggler?"
Marven grinned. "I grew up as an orphan in Janet-4. And as you can see, I'm not skin and bones. I always get the lion's share."
Demir looked at her with new eyes. "You grew up as an orphan? You never mentioned that before."
She winked at him. "There is so much more I didn't mention. We can discover later, though." She took the silvers and headed toward the nearest market.
Marco shouted after her, "Wrong way! There was a spare parts market southeast!"
Demir watched her go, then sighed. "We're living like a close family, but we don't know anything about each other."
Marco put a hand on his shoulder. "We trust each other. That's most important. You guys didn't abandon me like others when I was at my lowest."
"I guess we only have each other."
---
They entered the workshop, and the familiar smell of coal greeted them. Velori had once again arrived before them and started the forge, but this time she looked sad and not in the mood for scolding them about being late. She left three boiled eggs on the table, her head hanging in shame.
"This is how many they laid."
Demir saw her decline more and more with each passing day. Her clothes hung looser, her cheekbones more pronounced. "It's okay. I'm not hungry, and Marco ate a huge breakfast. We don't need our share." He paused, noting the weak flames. "But the forge needs more coal. This isn't enough."
Velori squirmed with shame. "It is all that is left."
"This won't do. Marco, any copper you have?"
"Two. Why?"
"Please ask the neighbor workshops for coal."
While Marco left on the coal search, Demir arranged the billets he'd readied yesterday and left a dozen to soften in the forge. When he started hammering the first batch, the worry in the old elven woman's face began to dissipate.
"Thank the Merciful Lord you can actually make nails," Velori said, watching him work. "I was worried that, like the others, you were going to scam me and ruin the workshop."
Demir kept his rhythm steady. "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing."
When Marco returned with a bag full of coal, the duo started working in unison again. By the time they finished ninety nails, the coal had barely held out.
Demir wiped sweat from his brow. "The order is done. Now you can take the payment and pay our silver."
Velori hesitated. "About that..."
Marco frowned. "What? Is there a problem?"
"I was hoping to sell the nails at the market and pay you then. I don't have any money."
Marco's face reddened. "That is... that is fraud!"
Demir put his hand on Marco to calm him. "If you'd said there was no order, I could have combined those billets into bigger pieces and made two swords. Those would be worth more than nails."
Velori laughed bitterly at the idea. "Huh. Players always boast about their crafting skill. When it comes to actually hammering, they ruin my shop."
"I... I actually can forge weapons, armor." Demir scratched his head and came up with a proposition. "How about this? From the day we're here until we leave the city, rent us the workshop, and you don't have to worry about us botching anything." He hesitated to show his sword to prove his skill but decided against it.
Velori's eyes narrowed. "How much are we talking about for rent?"
"Silver a week."
"Three..." she pressed.
"Two."
"Okay then. But don't expect my lunches anymore."
"Sure, sure."
Marven entered, carrying a bag of ingots and hilts for potential swords. "What are you talking about?"
Demir grinned. "I just rented the shop for two silver a week. But you need to sell our products, starting with these fake orders." He pointed at the nails.
Marven rolled her eyes. "I knew it. She didn't have any money or orders."
Marco handed her a wooden panel with writing on it. "We repair armour and weapons." He explained, "Take this with you when selling the nails. No one will come here to notice us. We're too deep in the alley."
"Good thinking, old man."
Demir added, "We also ran out of coal. When you sell the nails, buy us some coal. But keep a couple of coppers for lunches." He whispered, "I'm starving."
Velori shrugged. "Do as you like from now on. Just don't burn down my workshop."
---
Marco clapped his hands together. "Well, since we don't have anything to do until Marven sells the nails, I can show you the city."
He started showing the city as he remembered it from four years ago, but other than locations, almost all the dynamics had changed. Where players had lived and made fortunes had now become ghettos, since player income had plummeted without access to the system's rewards. And where locals had mostly lived before was now prospering, becoming luxury neighborhoods filled with well-dressed NPCs.
They stopped by three inns to leave the name and description of Aris, but they didn't get any news. All that crafting and walking had made them hungry, but they had no money to buy anything.
Then with empty stomachs, they looked for the market where they'd sent Marven. "She should have been here," Marco said, scanning the crowded stalls.
Demir shrugged. "I wonder if she mixed up the markets. I would have."
Marco shook his head. "I don't think she's hardheaded like you. She probably sold everything already."
"Then let's head to the workshop."
When they returned to the workshop, it was bustling with customers. People stood in a line that stretched out the door, holding dented armor, chipped swords, and cracked shields.
Marven waved at them frantically. "Where were you? Your repair customers are waiting!"
Demir's eyes went wide. "There's no way you gathered this many repair customers. We're going to be rich!"
Marven's smile turned sheepish. "Oh... I promised first repairs are free."
"What?"