So, that man is Maybelle's father? I'd be lying if I said I wasn't even a little thrown off.
Maybelle positioned herself beside him, lovingly hugging one of his large arms.
"I almost forgot to introduce you two… Wolf, this is my father: Quinn. Father, this is Wolf–the customer I was telling you about."
Our eyes met, and a stare down that felt like it would last for an eternity, had commenced.
The man looked nothing like what I imagined. He had quite a youthful appearance, although he was likely well into his middle ages. His lengthy hair–almost reaching down to his waist–was scruffy and dark with an irregular composition of strands that shrunk into one another as though some of the ends had been singed.
His physique also rebelled against my imagination: instead of a somewhat corpulent figure of retirement, I was faced with a healthy body of pure endurance in the form of toned amalgamation.
The heaps of sweat that covered his bare upper body only seemed to accentuate the sheer enormity of each muscle protruding from his clear skin.
In short, his appearance gave off the impression that his prime days as a Collector were still yet to pass.
The tension in the air began to thicken as we continued our silent observations of one another, his expression growing more intimidating by the second.
In a rapid back and forth, Maybelle's eyes constantly shifted between me and her father.
"Umm, guys? Is everything okay?" she asked, coerced by the apprehension in the tense atmosphere.
"He's not what I was expecting." Quinn and I both said this in unison, as though our minds were interlinked.
It was rather uncomfortable to say the least.
Fortunately, his expression soon relaxed and became less stern.
It was as if the negative side he introduced to me had retreated into those dark eyes of his.
"I've heard quite a few things about you already." We shook hands, and he examined my wrists briefly before returning to my face. "It appears you've also stolen my daughter's affection."
"DADDY!?" Maybelle screamed at her father, her face beaming.
I could've sworn I saw a line of steam rolling out of her head for a moment.
"Sorry, I'm not that great with my words," he formally apologized with a smile. "What I meant to say is that she already considers you a good friend. For that–and for making an appearance at my humble shop–I will forever be grateful." Quinn bowed his head, showing his gratitude towards me.
Is it normal to be this grateful? I already wasn't used to receiving this much gratitude, but considering we had only just met, it seemed quite redundant.
"I would like to extend another apology," he continued. "Maybelle seems to have disobeyed me by begging others to come to this Armory in spite of their own choices. Not only that, she decided to become a Collector against my wishes and form a party with you, further adding to your list of burdens. I am truly sorry." He gave another bow, but a little deeper this time.
I watched the guilt begin to tear itself through Maybelle's expression as she hung her head low in shame. She clearly didn't seem to enjoy disobeying her father's wishes.
"Mister Ferrum, you don't need to apologize," I said. "Maybelle—no, May didn't have to beg me to come here. I already decided to the moment I heard about your Armory. It was my own choice."
Upon hearing my words, May's expression brightened.
"Also, I was the one who asked her to join my party, and I strongly disagree that she'll be of any burden to us. Her abilities will definitely prove to be useful to our team one day, I can assure you."
"Wolf…" I heard May call to me quietly in astonishment, as though her faith in me had just increased exponentially.
For a moment, I watched Quinn's expression dull before brightening again like he had confirmed something.
"You're a good man... Almost too good. I had a few run-ins with an Axiell tribe up North. You're all very… well-spoken."
It seems he could also tell what race I was despite the absence of my other animalistic features.
"All I ask is that you take care of my daughter. Although we're not related by blood, she's the only thing I have left in this world." The melancholic glint in his eyes told a sad truth, as though Quinn would return to a life of pure suffering without her.
"I'm sorry." May spoke softly as they wrapped their arms around each other in a loving embrace.
"It's alright, just make sure you stay safe out there. There are still some things I would like to discuss with you though; I hope you're fine with that."
"Mhm," May nodded.
For a moment I wondered what 'things' he had to talk to her about, but I knew it was wrong to pry into familial affairs.
"So, Wolf…" Quinn began, his attention returning to me. "Did you find something you'd like to purchase?" His well-defined face–blessed with few wrinkles–seemed to tense in anticipation.
"Yes," I replied, quickly turning to the Kenium dagger I spotted earlier.
I watched as Quinn began to limp across the room to gain a closer look at the weapon.
"Mid-grade, huh? I'm guessing you're a beginner," he assessed. "Either way, you've got a good eye. I'll get that down for you in a moment, but is there anything else you need?"
I then pointed to the leather jacket that I looked at before, which rested upon an armor stand directly behind him.
"Hmm, I've been tryna get rid of this old thing for a while now... Seems like it'll be in good hands from now on."
There was a warm smile on his face, which gave me the impression that he was becoming fond of me for some reason.
Once again, I caught his eyes staring at my wrists as he rubbed his beardless chin with his thick fingers.
"You're a slave right?" The words that I had been dreading were finally spoken.
"Former slave," I quietly corrected.
"I see..." He took a moment to think, like he was considering something very deeply.
I turned to May with a slightly worried expression, hoping to gain some clarity, however, she remained silent as though she had no clue what was going on herself.
Then, a few strange thoughts crossed my mind: What if there's a policy that prohibits the selling of equipment to slaves like me?
Or what if he's just having second thoughts about me since he's discovered that I'm a slave?
I gulped down my worries, bracing myself for the worst possible outcome.
"You know, May was trying to persuade me to work out some kind of discount with you. Honestly, I stepped out of the forge thinking something like that would be rather unlikely, however..."
He continued to stare at my wrists and ankles intently, but this time he did it while closing his left eye, which I considered quite odd.
"How about I cut you a deal?"
"A deal?" I almost didn't believe I heard him correctly.
He told me that the armor I wanted to buy was made of dark leather: durable material crafted from the hide of certain dungeon beasts.
It comes in a set: an addition of dark leather boots, gloves, a gadget belt, and pants to go with it.
"I can give you the entire set free of charge, but you would have to pay the original price for the jacket, which is around sixty Mida, just twenty-five more than the discounted price."
Thinking that this was already an amazing deal, Quinn grew a suspicious smirk that seemed to twist in an ominously maniacal manner.
"If you choose to purchase all that, including the Kenium dagger, I'll make you a custom weapon for free."
"WHAT!?" May exclaimed in surprise. "Are you serious!?"
"Yes, but on one condition," he replied, holding up his index finger. "I'll only forge this weapon out of the material made from that."
Using the same finger he held up, Quinn pointed at my shackles.
"I would also like to keep some spare pieces for myself, so the weapon I make will have to be quite small."
I took a moment to consider this.
It was an incredibly good deal.
I'd only be paying twenty-five more than what I was already planning to. On top of that, I'd gain another weapon to add to my arsenal.
The only issue is these shackles…
They were made of an obscure metal that even I couldn't appraise with Clairvoyance.
From the way Quinn was staring at them, while failing to disguise his puzzled expression, I could tell that he didn't know what metal they were made of either.
"Wolf, are you still considering it?" May whispered to me. "My father has never forged a custom weapon for anyone else before. You'd be the first one."
May had a good point. There wasn't really much to think about with an offer as favorable as this. However, there was still an annoying risk that came with it.
Considering that the chains–made of the same material as my shackles–had somehow been completely destroyed during the soul sacrifice, it was impossible to assess the durability of the metal itself.
That left me with only one option.
"I'm sorry, Mister Ferrum, I'm afraid I can't accept this deal of yours," I admitted honestly.
"Wolf…" Maybelle was too stunned to say anything more.
I heard Quinn let out a disappointed sigh before looking at me sternly.
"I was afraid you might say that."
I instinctively held my breath without much certainty as to why I was doing so.
All I knew was that a sudden aggressiveness had been projected from Quinn, and I was the main target.
"Just give me one moment." He moved quite hurriedly despite his limp, and exited the room through a door behind the counter, allowing all the aggression in the air to exit with him.
Finally, I was able to breathe once again.
"Where do you think he went?" I asked May.
"I'm not sure…" she quietly responded. "Hey, Wolf, how come you couldn't accept the offer he gave you? It seemed like it was mostly in your favor, right?"
"... Some things just aren't always as they seem," I began to mutter. "Sometimes it can be hard to tell how deep the water really is from just the surface."
"Huh, I guess that might be true…" May then began to chuckle slightly. "For a moment there, Wolf, you sounded like a wise old man or something."
A wise old man…?
At one point, I had this strange nostalgic feeling that quickly dissolved into nothingness.
Just then, I heard a door swing open, and saw Quinn emerge from it while holding what appeared to be a black CCU.
However, this one seemed much more advanced than the one I had, and took a cylindrical appearance as opposed to the cuboid shape of the standard model.
"During my time as a Collector, I claimed many cards from various dungeons, traded for some, and even purchased quite a few. However, there are certain cards that I had been meaning to get rid of since I never had much use for them."
Sensing the activation of a powerful vision field, four different cards were abruptly summoned at once, and positioned in front of me.
"I'm adding this to the deal. You can claim one of these cards free of charge. Just take your pick."
"H-huhhhh??" I couldn't blame May for her sudden confusion.
This is absolutely insane.
On top of his already generous deal, he wanted to offer me a card.
A card from a veteran Collector's arsenal…
This was an opportunity that I couldn't let slip by.
"What happens if I refuse? Will you give me the option to select two instead?" I cunningly asked.
"... You're pushing your luck, kid."
"Right… sorry."
I guess that's a no then…
I used Clairvoyance on the cards in front of me, and noticed that they were all close combat based.
The one that peaked my attention though was the level five card, which was the highest level out of the four, meaning it had a higher rarity and power potential.
Levels are fixed properties that differ between all collectable cards depending on their rarity and potential. 1 being the lowest, and 6 being the highest–similar to card ranks.
Card levels can be seen on every card using Clairvoyance, excluding certain types like birth cards, which do not possess a fixed rarity as they are completely innate.
"Then… I choose this one," I said while pointing toward the card furthest to my right.
"Hmm? The Claw Card? How fitting." He grew a smile on his face. "Are you sure that's the one you want?"
I nodded.
"Alright then… Relinquish: Claw Card."
After a few seconds, I watched the card that I pointed at slowly drop to the floor, no longer suspended in the air like the others.
"It should be easier to claim now that it's no longer in anyone's possession."
Cards that are relinquished become 'unpossessed' cards, allowing them to be claimed by anyone who holds on to them for a few seconds.
However, if no one claims an unpossessed card after a certain amount of time, it recycles itself, meaning it gets transported to a random dungeon as a reward.
However, this concept does not apply to birth cards.
Unpossessed cards are usually darker and dull-looking, whereas claimed cards have a subtle shine to them.
I reached for the card laying on the ground, and held it up for a couple seconds until it sparked brightly.
The Claw Card was now claimed.