My Demons

Chapter 12

In an era devoid of the internet, locating an honest merchant was an arduous task, akin to finding a needle in a haystack. This was especially true in the medieval period, where the absence of law enforcement, legal proceedings, financial oversight, or regulatory bodies made matters even worse. In such a scenario, if I were to be treated unjustly, there would be no authority to administer justice.

The only recourse available would be to approach the ruler of the city, the lord, and implore for a fair resolution. However, why would the lord show any concern for a stranger they had just encountered? It seemed highly improbable.

Thus, how does one avoid being betrayed in a place like South Harbor?

When I voiced my concerns, Ellen responded with a simple yet profound answer.

Just dont have expectations.

What? 

I found her response too simplistic for such a grave question.

Currently, Ellen and I were traversing the plaza on our way to the trading post to procure the necessary goods for our sewer-related task.

Is it really that difficult?

Observing her expression, it appeared that she was deliberately provoking me. She possessed the talent to look down on me even while tilting her head upwards to meet my gaze.

Give me a proper explanation. What do you mean dont have expectations?

Dont rely on people. Regard everyone as a potential thief or murderer and conduct yourself accordingly. It simplifies matters, doesnt it?

Thats remarkably cynical of you.

Despite being a middle schooler, she displayed the demeanor of a woman who had endured the trials of three divorces. Her life must have been considerably challenging.

Navigating through the bustling crowd, I furrowed my brow.

Wait a minute. You dont consider me a potential criminal as well, do you?

Throughout my thirty years of existence, I had never been fined or penalized, let alone committed a crime.

Youre being overly dramatic. We owe each other our lives. Dont you think thats going a bit too far?

Dont worry. I believe youre better than most.

What?

I had never expected her to utter such kind words.

A peculiar sense of emotion overwhelmed me as I gazed intently at her.

What are you staring at? Dont obstruct the path. Lets keep moving.

Ah, her pouty lips were quite adorable just now.

Indeed. So what if she cant use skills well? As long as she remained cute, that was all that mattered.

In truth, Ellens advice to be skeptical of everyone wasnt entirely misguided.

Maintaining vigilance and suspicion reduced the likelihood of being betrayed. However, how does one strike a balance in making transactions?

Hence, prior to leaving the inn, I had already inquired about the merchants reputations from Daria.

The general merchant the elderly Oleg stationed in front of the trading post offers a wide range of products. Our shop frequently engages with him.

I harbored concerns due to the disparities between the game and reality, but Oleg remained the same.

In the game, Oleg served as the sole general merchandise NPC in South Harbor.

While reality featured several other general merchants, it seemed unnecessary to fret over them.

The issue at hand was the blacksmith shop, as Daria lacked information about it or perhaps couldnt recall anything significant. It was only natural, considering she was an innkeeper. It would have been odd if she had any involvement with armor or weapons.

The blacksmiths known to Daria were mainly involved in tasks such as crafting hinges and locks. While it was possible that these blacksmiths had some expertise in ironwork, my objective was to acquire new equipment.

After contemplating for a moment, I casually asked her, Do you happen to know a craftsman named Ilton?

In the game, Ilton was an NPC who dealt in various equipment, offered repair services, and occasionally sold magical items. If Ilton existed in reality, he would have been exceptionally skilled and consequently well-known.

However

Ilton Ilton? Im not certain. Well, I dont know everyone in the city.

That was peculiar. Why was she unaware?

I couldnt determine if it was a flaw in my memory or a disparity between the game and reality, but

Regardless, my primary concern was finding a capable blacksmith. If that proved unsuccessful, I planned to visit the location where Ilton was situated in the game.

In any case, Ellen and I arrived at Olegs general store approximately ten minutes after leaving the inn.

As soon as I stood before the shop, an unpleasant odor greeted my nostrilsa strange blend of spoiled food and medicinal herbs filled the air.

Ugh, whats that smell?

It seems theyre brewing some herbs.

While I instinctively wrinkled my nose, Ellen sniffed the peculiar scent and appeared to savor it.

Herbs? Ew, its awful.

Theyre likely using magical ingredients. I believe weve come to the right place.

With that remark, she swiftly entered the store.

I didnt want to be overly picky about such a smell, so I followed suit.

Upon stepping inside, my attention was immediately drawn to a table cluttered with items: a furnace, a mortar and pestle, glass bottles, brass jars, ladles, and an assortment of other objects.

Adjacent to the table hung a large pot, its contents boiling with a thick, ominous-looking liquid.

As I surveyed the surroundings, I noticed tall shelves lining the walls, divided into sections. It resembled a junk shop or an antiquarian bookstore.

While Ellen and I explored the stores interior, an elderly man emerged from between the shelves behind the table.

Cloaked in a long black robe that reached his ankles, adorned with a brown hat, the man appeared thin and aged.

Whos there?

We came to see some goods. Youre Mr. Oleg, right?

Are you mercenaries?

Haha, indeed we are. Daria from the Bells & Whistles Inn recommended us to you.

When dealing with an elderly individual, it was best to be polite and wear a smile, regardless of the circumstances.

Of course, under different circumstances, I might retort with, Who are you to speak informally to me when weve just met? However, given my current predicament, I found myself in a slightly disadvantaged position.

Nevertheless, despite my customer-service smile, Mr. Oleg regarded us with suspicion and suddenly flipped open his robe.

Look, see this?

Huh?

Mr. Oleg pointed to the glass bottles and orbs that dangled heavily within his robe.

The glass bottles were filled with a slimy, viscous liquid, while the orbs, crafted from glass or perhaps crystal, emitted a brownish glow.

This is Firetree Oil and explosive orbs. If you mess around, this whole area could blow up. Keep that in mind, Mr. Oleg warned sternly.

I was taken aback. Was he always this cold and serious? This was completely unexpected.

And Daria, didnt you like me? Introducing me to someone like this Ill remember it.

Nevertheless, I maintained a bored expression and nodded vigorously.

Observing my reaction, the bomb-keeperno, Mr. Olegparted his robe and inquired, What are you here to buy?

Ah, well

I pulled out a piece of cloth from my pocket. It contained a list of the items I wanted to purchase.

Mr. Oleg briefly glanced at the cloth before retrieving each item.

Going to the sewers, huh?

Yes, thats right.

I wondered how he knew, but considering the current state of the city, the sewers were the only place where mercenaries armed with an oil-filled lantern would venture at night.

Leaving the city at night would be madness.

Then, take this Bulls Eye Lantern. It should illuminate at least to the other side of the sewer.

Ah, yes. Please give me that.

Two bottles of lantern oil should suffice. As for torches They can get wet, so its better to use those made with sulfur rather than pine. They may be a bit of a hassle to unwrap and burn out quickly, but its preferable to rendering them unusable.

Despite his gruff demeanor, Mr. Oleg meticulously selected the items. I had initially assumed he was merely a cantankerous old man, but it seemed I was mistaken.

Ellen and I assisted Mr. Oleg in packing the items into two backpacks. Once we finished, including a bundle of ropes, Mr. Oleg spoke once again.

I only have a map of the second level of the sewer. The first level is guarded by the citys guards, so it shouldnt be a problem, and I suggest avoiding going below the third level if possible. Dangerous creatures occasionally make appearances.

The structure of the sewer varied randomly in each campaign, but it typically consisted of five to eight levels.

The secret passage leading outside the city could be found somewhere between the third and sixth levels, depending on the sewers size.

Thus, while Mr. Olegs advice wasnt applicable in my case, I obediently nodded for the time being. After all, I had no intention of descending more than four levels at once. It was far too perilous.

Thank you for the advice.

Dont expect to find food here. Head to The Drunken Horse Tavern and inquire there. They sell biscuits to sailors. Is there anything else? Do you require any medicines?

Medicines? Could it be?

Do you happen to have potions?

Youre saying strange things. Im not an alchemist. Why would you expect to find potions here?

Mr. Oleg wore an expression that clearly questioned my reasoning. It was akin to ordering a steak in a soup restaurant. Well, fine. I had gotten my hopes up for nothing.

Then what kind of medicines do you have?

Lets see First, youll need antidotes, as Ratmen occasionally coat their arrows with poison. This should neutralize most common paralytic poisons. You might also encounter dung beetles, so its wise to have antidotes for neurotoxins as well.

Neurotoxins?

Arent you mercenaries?

Ellen frowned and jabbed my side in response to Mr. Olegs reaction.

Its like snake or spider poison. Dont show your ignorance, Mr. Oleg responded bluntly.

Theres no harm in asking! You learn by asking questions, I retorted, defending our curiosity.

Observing us with a mixture of pity and exasperation, Mr. Oleg retrieved a basket from under the cluttered table.

Take these hemostatics and ointments as well. I made them myself, and theyre not bad. Do you need bandages?

Uh Yes, please give us bandages as well.

Mr. Oleg placed a small paper bag, a glass bottle, and bandages into our backpacks. Then, he shifted his gaze towards Ellen.

Is the little one there a wizard?

Mind your own business.

Wow, the tempest of adolescence truly is something remarkable. Such a cold response to that bombastic old man.

I nudged Ellen with my elbow and maintained a smiling face as I said, Ahaha, yes, youre right. She may appear young, but shes incredibly intelligent.

Hmm.

After scrutinizing Ellen for a moment, Mr. Oleg briefly raised his eyebrows before accepting the statement with a nod.

Alright, none of my business. That will be four silver coins.

Excuse me? Four coins? Why is it so expensive?

This was outrageous! It was four times more costly than I had anticipated! Granted, there were additional items, but wasnt this excessive?

Observing my stunned expression, Mr. Oleg sighed and remarked, What do you expect? Both the land and sea routes are blocked. Do you think goods will be sold at their original prices? Either pay up or leave if you plan to haggle.

No, but still

What should we do?

Considering this store was recommended by the game itself and witnessing how meticulously Mr. Oleg selected the items, he didnt seem like such a bad person Could he really be trying to deceive us?

While contemplating, Ellen nonchalantly chimed in, Just pay him. Theres no other way.

What? But we still have so much left to buy

What choice do we have? We cant simply purchase a pair of boots and neglect the essential items.

Well, yes, but what Im trying to say is

Observing Mr. Olegs reaction, I whispered, Hey, shouldnt we at least check if this is the market price or not?

Its fine. If hes overcharging us, we can always burn his store down. There seem to be plenty of valuable things to loot.

Hey, hey!

Ellen boldly uttered these reckless words.

Why was she making such a dangerous statement?

Upon hearing this, Mr. Olegs expression turned icy, and he glared at Ellen.

It seems our little wizard doesnt know what an Explosive Orb is.

And it seems you dont know what a magic tool is.

At Ellens cheeky retort, Mr. Oleg adopted a stern expression.

Their gazes locked, and it felt like sparks were about to fly. I watched their tense exchange in astonishment.

Honestly, what was Ellen relying on to be so audacious?

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