Faced with dozens of eyes silently fixated on him, Kazuya felt neither shyness, nervousness, nor embarrassment. His face remained a mask of indifference.
With his dark, abyss-like eyes, he swept his gaze across the room. The first thing he noted was the total absence of women. Next, he evaluated the patrons.
Most appeared to be ordinary working men trying to drown their troubles or kill time, but a few were clearly sober and attempting to blend in. One of them, likely a rookie, had failed to conceal the dagger at his hip. He shifted continuously, radiating the jumpy anxiety of someone terrified of being caught at any moment.
Dismissing them from his mind, Kazuya maintained a relaxed posture and strolled calmly toward the heavy oak counter.
Behind the bar stood a burly man with a broken nose, aggressively scrubbing a stained glass with a rag that had seen better days. He didn't look up as Kazuya approached, though his scrubbing slowed ever so slightly. Around the room, the rowdy patrons gradually returned to their drinks, the volume of their chatter and laughter rising back to its former intensity.
Kazuya observed the bartender for a few seconds before speaking in a calm, steady tone. "An ale. Whatever's on tap."
The bartender stopped wiping the glass. He lifted his head, his sharp gaze assessing Kazuya's clean clothes, uncalloused hands, and youthful features. He couldn't care less whether the boy was of drinking age; he was evaluating whether the kid actually possessed money.
"Halfpence," the bartender grunted, his harsh tone mirroring his skeptical expression.
Hearing the price, Kazuya mentally recalled Ling Wu's breakdown of local currency.
One Ledger is equal to twenty-four Notes, and one Note equals twelve Pence. The currency in this world differs from the islands above, but the system is straightforward. It's obvious that the poor and working classes can only afford a halfpence drink on occasion. Ling Wu, however, clearly operates far above those classes, her financial situation is exceptionally secure. She gave me 8 Notes and 10 Pence without batting an eye. I wonder how she earns her income.
Reaching into his pocket, Kazuya produced a dull copper coin that had long since lost its luster and placed it on the counter.
With a grunt, the bartender grabbed a heavy wooden mug, filled it from a dark wooden keg, and slammed it down before scooping up the coin.
As Kazuya picked up the mug and inspected the foam at the top, the bartender leaned over, his voice dropping to a low rasp. "You're a bit clean for the Dawn Sky, lad. Lost your way?"
"Just looking for a change of pace," Kazuya replied smoothly. He took a small sip of the watery, bitter liquid. It tasted awful, but he kept his expression perfectly neutral. "And perhaps a bit of specialized trade."
The bartender's eyes narrowed, followed by a rough scoff. "We sell booze here. You want silks or spices, head to the market. You won't find anything like that here."
"The market only sells what the city authorities permit," Kazuya said softly, leaning forward just enough to ensure his voice remained private. "I'm looking for something else."
The bartender let out a dry chuckle, though his eyes remained vigilant. "I don't know what this 'something else' of yours is, but it sure sounds expensive. Probably costs a whole 12 Pence."
So, one Note for an introduction, Kazuya analyzed. I don't know the going rate for what I'm seeking, but this is my only lead. I have to take the risk. Even if this turns out to be a scam, at least I can strike this bar off my list of potential hubs.
Upon further consideration, Kazuya deemed the likelihood of an outright scam to be low.
A scam would be counterproductive for him. If he cheats me, it gives me cause to ruin his reputation, a single disgruntled customer in a place like this can cause a massive disturbance. Furthermore, he wouldn't risk scamming patrons for fear of crossing the wrong person. Still, the possibility that he preys on those he deems weak or nonthreatening can't be ruled out entirely.
As for that final scenario, Kazuya considered the solution straightforward: if the bartender tried to cross him, he would simply beat the man until his money was returned.
Without wasting further time, Kazuya reached into his pocket and withdrew a crisp, rectangular slip of grayish-blue paper. Engraved on its face was the portrait of a crowned man with a thin beard, Sebastian Monvoo, the reigning monarch of the Monvoo Kingdom.
Kazuya placed the Note on the wooden surface, sliding it across the counter with a subtle movement to avoid drawing the eyes of nearby patrons.
The bartender stared at the paper note. A full week's wage for an average laborer had just casually emerged from this kid's pocket. The man's hostility melted, replaced by a guarded seriousness.
Nimbly snatching the paper, the bartender tossed his rag over his shoulder and gestured with his chin toward a heavy door near the back.
"Grab your drink and head into that room," he muttered in a harsh whisper. "If someone's interested, they'll come find you. If not... you finish your drink and walk out. Clear?"
Kazuya gave a subtle nod, picked up his mug, and walked toward the designated room.
Turning the brass handle, he stepped inside. The room was simple, containing two round wooden tables surrounded by three chairs each. A faded carpet covered the floorboards, and an empty bookshelf sat against the wall, bearing only a potted plant on its top shelf.
After completing his initial inspection, Kazuya closed the door behind him, dragged out a chair, and sat down, placing his mug on the table.
Unsure of how long he would have to wait, he chose to remain completely sharp and avoid his drink. In truth, Kazuya had never consumed alcohol, the concept did not exist on the islands above, and he had only learned of its intoxicating effects through Ling Wu. He had taken the initial sip earlier purely to facilitate his dialogue with the bartender, but he had no intention of drinking any more.
Ten minutes passed in quiet solitude before the door handle clicked open. Kazuya's vigilance spiked, though his posture remained entirely relaxed, masking his tension.
His eyes fell upon the figure entering the room. The newcomer wore a dark, hooded robe that cast deep shadows over their facial features. They stood slightly taller than Kazuya with a broader build, and when they spoke, their voice immediately identified them as male.
"We won't be exchanging names. It prevents unnecessary complications down the line," the man said smoothly, clearly accustomed to such transactions. He approached the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down across from Kazuya.
Observing Kazuya's silent posture, the man gave an imperceptible nod. He preferred clients who refrained from meaningless small talk; it made transactions far more efficient.
"What are you looking for?" the man asked, getting straight to business.
Having already formulated his response, Kazuya replied calmly, "Anything related to Ritual Arts that can assist me in combat. Ideally, a ritual-infused weapon with offensive capabilities, or one with powerful utility."
From the book Ling Wu had purchased for him, Kazuya knew that certain artifacts and weapons possessed mysterious, unnatural properties. The book had provided no specific details, so he was taking a calculated shot in the dark.
The hooded man remained silent for a moment, weighing the request. "The latter option is troublesome to source, though I can manage something, if you have deep pockets. As for the former, your request is far too broad."
Recognizing his own lack of foundational knowledge, Kazuya answered smoothly, "Bring me something based on your own expertise and experience, something you deem beneficial for my current state."
The response confirmed the man's suspicion: the kid was a novice. Leaving the choice to the seller indicated a lack of precise market knowledge, effectively framing the seller as a paid consultant.
After a brief pause, the hooded man agreed. "I can fulfill the request, but I require a 5 Notes deposit."
Kazuya frowned inwardly. The sum was staggering. He currently possessed 7 Notes, 9 Pence, and one halfpence. Handing over five Notes now would nearly wipe out the funds Ling Wu had provided.
The reality brought a critical problem to the forefront: capital. As he plunged deeper into the world of Ritual Arts, his expenses would escalate exponentially. He couldn't continuously rely on Ling Wu for money.
Should I look for employment? While a job might consume time that could be spent training, it won't be a detriment, in fact, it's necessary. Earning my own funds to purchase power is far more sustainable. However, conventional jobs in this city likely pay pittance wages that won't cover ritual-grade expenses. I need an alternative source of income. As long as it isn't outright malicious and bound to bring unnecessary trouble, I'll take it.
Without showing hesitation, Kazuya drew five Notes from his pocket and passed them across the table. The hooded man accepted the paper notes, carefully verifying their authenticity before slipping them into his robes.
"Be here the day after tomorrow, half an hour before midnight," the man instructed. "I will bring the results of my search. If I fail to deliver on either request, you owe nothing more. But if I succeed, bring the remainder of the funds to cover the final price. Make sure you come prepared."
The hooded man stood up. Just as he turned to leave, Kazuya spoke up. "Where can someone like me make real money?"
The man paused, glancing back at Kazuya from beneath the shadow of his hood.
This kid... the seller thought to himself. He produces five Notes without blinking or even attempting to haggle, and now he's asking how to make money. Did he steal from his family's safe, only to realize ritual goods cost far more than he anticipated? Regardless, I'd usually charge for information... but since he paid my deposit without throwing a tantrum, I can afford to be generous... Heh. Consider yourself lucky, kid, you met a lenient merchant today.
A faint, smug smile tugged at the shadow beneath his hood. "Since you paid the deposit without throwing a fit, I'll give you an overview free of charge. There are numerous ways to earn money here..."
The merchant proceeded to list several avenues for quick capital, but Kazuya immediately discarded the illicit options; they carried an unacceptable risk of drawing official heat. Other options required established proficiency in Ritual Arts that he simply didn't possess yet.
As the list concluded, Kazuya made his decision.
"Bounty hunting," Kazuya stated flatly.
The hooded man blinked, mildly surprised. Of all the choices, the kid had selected the most hazardous. While conceptually straightforward, bounty hunting was brutally unforgiving, many listed targets were monstrous individuals that even seasoned mercenaries avoided.
Refraining from offering unsolicited advice, the man produced a scrap of paper and an ink pen, scribbling a brief address.
"If you're set on taking contracts, go to this address. The contact there will walk you through the details," the merchant said, handing over the slip.
Kazuya took the paper, memorized the address, and tucked it into his pocket. The hooded man was already at the door.
"Don't forget: the day after tomorrow, half an hour before midnight."
With that final reminder, the merchant slipped out, closing the door behind him.
Kazuya remained seated for a moment, silently mapping out his upcoming steps. Then, leaving the untouched mug of ale on the wooden table, he stood up and walked out.