The young woman crossed her arms tightly across her chest, though the gesture did little to hide her irritation.
To her, the entire place felt wrong.
The surrounding buildings were old, the street was narrow, and the neighboring shops lacked the polished grandeur found in the wealthier sections of Averton.
A person accustomed to banquet halls and noble estates naturally found little charm in forgotten corners of the city.
Yet despite her displeasure, she followed him.
Experience had already taught her that once her fiancé became curious about something, convincing him otherwise was often like trying to redirect a river with bare hands.
The bell hanging above the entrance released a soft chime when the door opened.
The sound was light and pleasant, lingering briefly before fading into the stillness of the shop.
Warm lantern light greeted them from within, illuminating shelves lined with weapons and equipment.
The interior carried the faint scent of aged wood, machine oil, and polished metal.
It was not unpleasant.
Rather, it reminded one of workshops where craftsmen spent long hours shaping tools with patient hands.
Swords, spears, daggers, and sabers occupied the walls in orderly rows.
Their quality varied noticeably. Some appeared respectable, while others clearly belonged to lower grades.
Nothing immediately stood out as extraordinary.
Near a table stood a young man whose posture was so straight and composed that he seemed almost carved from stone.
His expression remained calm and unreadable, while his hands rested naturally at his sides.
Behind the counter, Kiara slowly lifted her head from where she had been resting upon folded arms. There was no sign of panic or eagerness on her face. She simply observed the newcomers with measured attention.
"Big Sister," the young man beside the counter said evenly. "Customers."
Kiara straightened her back and quietly studied the pair before her.
Her gaze moved first toward the young man.
For a moment, she was stunned.
Girl, this guy is such a looker…
His features were striking enough to draw attention wherever he went, yet what interested Kiara more was the confidence hidden beneath the elegance.
Beside him stood the young woman, her posture rigid with pride and her gaze already moving through the shop with visible dissatisfaction.
Wealth surrounded her like invisible armor.
She did not merely wear expensive clothing.
She wore the certainty of someone who rarely heard the word no.
Kiara quietly activated her inspection skill.
Information brushed against her awareness.
High-grade silk.
Master-level stitching.
Protective enchantments woven directly into the fabric.
Her eyes lingered for a moment.
These two smell like money.
The thought appeared naturally.
Not because she cared about status, but because her current situation required customers, and wealthy customers were often the most useful.
"Welcome to Nexus, Esteemed Customers," she said with a warm and professional smile. "What are you looking for tonight?"
The young man did not answer immediately.
Instead, he began walking slowly along the displays. His fingers hovered near several weapons, never quite touching them.
He examined each item with genuine curiosity rather than arrogance. The young woman followed close behind, and the longer she looked, the more dissatisfied she became.
She stopped before a spear.
Her eyebrows immediately tightened.
"Trash."
The word left her mouth without hesitation.
She moved to another display.
A sword.
Another glance.
"Trash."
Her voice became sharper.
The next rack received the same treatment.
"Who would buy this garbage?"
The criticism echoed through the shop.
Kiara remained behind the counter, her expression unchanged.
In truth, she largely agreed.
Most of these weapons would eventually be dismantled after she acquired the necessary skill.
Their quality was mediocre at best.
Yet hearing criticism and hearing contempt were two different things. The young woman's words carried neither honesty nor assessment. They carried dismissal.
Nearby, the young man paused beside a longsword. He tilted his head slightly, studying its shape and balance. Though he clearly recognized its shortcomings, he refrained from mocking it.
The difference did not escape Kiara.
A wise person could point out flaws without insulting effort.
The young woman eventually turned back toward him.
"This entire shop is worthless, Dear," she declared. "Let us leave. Even a crow knows the difference between a dry field and fertile land. Why waste time pecking at stones?"
The young man smiled faintly.
"A crow searches for food," he replied. "A treasure hunter searches for what others overlook. If everyone had only looked at fertile fields, the whole currency system wouldn't have developed. Gold would have still been buried beneath mountains by now."
The woman rolled her eyes.
"You always have an answer for everything I say."
He merely chuckled.
Instead of leaving, he turned toward the counter.
"Do you have something else?" he asked. "Something not displayed here?"
His curiosity felt genuine.
Kiara met his gaze.
"Actually, these weapons are procured from the previous owner. We don't normally sell these weapons here. We sell something unique."
Kiara gave a brief pause…
Then continued, "In fact, I am confident you will not find another one like it anywhere in the Empire. Would you like to see it?"
The young man's eyes brightened slightly.
For the first time since entering the store, visible interest appeared on his face.
"Bring it."
The young woman folded her arms.
Her expression practically screamed disbelief.
Kiara reached beneath the counter and carefully withdrew a narrow wooden case. The polished surface reflected the lantern light as she placed it gently before them. The lid opened with a soft click.
Inside rested a silver pistol.
Its metal surface carried a muted sheen rather than excessive decoration.
The wooden grip had been carved with clean precision. Beside it rested several 9 mm bullets, their brass casings gleaming softly beneath the lanterns.
The atmosphere changed immediately.
The young man's gaze locked onto the weapon.
Gone was the casual curiosity from before.
Now there was fascination.
The young woman frowned deeply.
She had never seen anything remotely similar.
No blade.
No bowstring.
No visible Ether core.
No familiar mechanism.
What is this thing?
The question appeared plainly upon her face.
The young man's hand hovered above the pistol. Only good manners prevented him from picking it up immediately.
His eyes moved briefly toward the signboard visible through the open doorway.
"This resembles the symbol outside," he said quietly. "What is it called?"
Kiara inclined her head before lifting the weapon.
The pistol settled comfortably into her hand.
Years of familiarity made the movement effortless.
"It is called a pistol, Mr. Customer."
She rotated it slightly, allowing the lamplight to slide across the barrel while she pointed toward various components.
"This is the barrel."
Her finger shifted.
"And this is the trigger."
Then another motion.
"This chamber holds the bullet."
The two customers listened carefully.
"It is a ranged, ungraded weapon. Once loaded, it can strike targets up to ten meters away."
"Ten meters?"
The young man's eyes widened slightly.
For perhaps the first time that evening, his composed mask cracked enough to reveal genuine surprise.
"Impressive for something so small."
The young woman immediately responded with a dismissive hum.
"Distance alone means nothing. A pebble can travel far if thrown correctly, but that does not make it dangerous."
Kiara nodded slightly.
"A fair point."
Then she calmly added,
"But whether a pebble is dangerous depends on where it lands."
The young woman's eyes narrowed.
The response was simple.
Yet difficult to argue against.
The young man accepted the pistol when Kiara handed it over. He turned it carefully in his hands, studying every detail with growing fascination.
"I want it."
The declaration came suddenly.
The young woman's head snapped toward him.
"You cannot be serious."
"It is unique."
His answer was simple.
"It is ungraded," she argued. "What possible use does it have? And those tiny metal pieces… bullets, was it? I doubt they could be much useful."
The young man laughed softly.
"If nothing else, I can display it. Imagine the expressions on my friends' faces when they see something no one else possesses."
Her lips pressed together.
"You indulge yourself too easily."
"Perhaps."
His smile widened.
"But unlike warriors, I am not required to judge every object according to combat value."
The young woman sighed.
For several moments, she remained silent.
Finally, she waved a hand dismissively.
"Fine. Buy your toy."
The young man carefully placed the pistol back into its case before looking toward Kiara.
"Miss, I will take the pistol and all remaining bullets. What is the price?"
"Five gold coins for the pistol," Kiara replied pleasantly. "Six bullets for 120 silver coins. The total is six gold and twenty silver."
A small warmth stirred inside her chest.
Her first customer.
Her first sale.
Momentum mattered.
Like the first drop of rain before a storm, one successful transaction often led to another.
Unfortunately, the young woman's reaction shattered the pleasant atmosphere.
Her face darkened instantly.
"You dare charge such a price?"
Her voice rose sharply.
She stepped forward.
"Are you attempting to swindle us?"
A faint red glow emerged around her hand as Ether began circulating beneath her skin. The surrounding air trembled slightly. Her palm descended toward the counter with obvious anger.
The movement happened quickly.
Yet before her hand could strike the wood, another hand intercepted it.
Zion.
His grip was neither violent nor forceful.
He simply caught her wrist.
Effortlessly.
The Ether surrounding her palm dispersed like smoke striking a wall.
"Customers do not have permission to damage store property," Zion stated calmly.
His voice remained perfectly even.
No threat.
No anger.
No arrogance.
Just a statement.
Then he released her wrist.
The young woman instinctively stepped back.
Shock flashed across her face.
She was a three-star warrior.
Yet this man had stopped her so casually that she had not even sensed resistance.
Her pride immediately rebelled against the realization.
Who is he?
The question surfaced instantly.
Meanwhile, Kiara's smile never changed.
"If the price does not suit you, customer, you are free to leave."
Her voice remained gentle.
"However, rarity has value. A fruit that grows in every garden costs little. A fruit that grows once in a hundred years costs much more. This weapon exists nowhere else in the Empire."
She paused briefly.
Then added, "It can kill a plainfolk instantly. Even a one-star fighter would suffer severe injury if struck."
The young man's attention sharpened immediately.
"It can injure a one-star warrior?"
"Yes."
Kiara nodded.
"If the target follows a physically weaker path, such as a mage or archer, even a two-star practitioner may be harmed if the vital points are struck."
The young woman frowned deeply.
"An ungraded weapon harming a two-star mage?"
Her skepticism remained obvious.
Yet she no longer attempted another outburst.
Zion's presence lingered heavily in her mind.
The young man fell silent.
He considered the claim carefully.
Finally, he withdrew seven gold coins and placed them neatly upon the counter.
The soft clink echoed through the room.
"I will purchase it. However..."
Then he lifted the folding fan resting in his hand.
Its polished surface gleamed beneath the lantern light.
"This fan is copper grade."
He held it upright.
"Strike it."
The challenge was calm.
Measured.
"If your claim is true, it should atleast leave a mark. If not, we shall revisit this discussion."
Kiara looked at the fan.
Then at the pistol.
Then at him.
Without another word, she moved.
The wooden case opened.
Her fingers selected a bullet.
The brass casing reflected the lantern light.
A soft metallic click followed as she loaded the round into the pistol.
The sound was unfamiliar to everyone except her.
She raised the weapon.
The barrel aligned with the center of the fan.
The young woman instinctively tensed.
The young man's eyes narrowed slightly.
Zion remained motionless.
Kiara's finger settled against the trigger.
Then she squeezed.
BANG!
The explosion shattered the stillness of the shop.
The sound struck the walls and bounced through the room like thunder trapped indoors.
The young woman gasped and instinctively took half a step backward. Her heart lurched violently. The noise was unlike any weapon she had ever heard.
A sharp smell drifted through the air immediately afterward.
Metal.
Smoke.
Burned powder.
The fan trembled slightly within the young man's hand.
His eyes slowly lowered.
At its center was a clean hole.
Perfectly pierced.
The copper-tier material surrounding the opening showed signs of tearing where the projectile had punched through.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
The young man's expression finally changed.
Genuine surprise appeared openly on his face.
The young woman stared as though questioning whether her eyes had betrayed her.
Kiara calmly lowered the pistol.
The barrel remained steady.
Not a trace of nervousness appeared upon her face.
Then she looked toward them and smiled.
"Well?"