Deacon stepped out of Chen's Pawnery, the thick metal door closing behind him with a heavy clunk that echoed down the stone steps. The armored guards stationed on either side didn't even glance at him, eyes hidden beneath steel helmets, arms crossed over tower shields etched with the Pawnery's insignia: a weighing scale, flanked by two dragons.
That old man… I don't give a fuck about what anyone says about young people needing to respect their elders, that old man's mood was nastier than an elf, Deacon grumbled. Like your shop says it's open 24/7 and you get pissed when someone comes at night, how does that make sense?
The moment his feet cleared the last step of the stairs that led into Chen's Pawnery, he pulled his pack tightly against his chest, clutching it with both arms like a drowning man clinging to driftwood.
While it was a lot lighter physically at the moment, to him, it felt heavier than the world.
It had taken the better part of half an hour for the appraisers to authenticate the coins, verify their purity, check for enchantments, and argue amongst themselves about market rates for Floor Three loot. But by the end of it, they'd handed him a receipt of exchange and gave him exactly 300,000 credits.
He had walked into that pawn shop with roughly 10,000 gold coins, which weighed about 50 kilograms when he carried them in his pack, and now his pack, filled with 300,000 credits worth, weighed almost 5 kilograms.
It was, by far, the most money Deacon had ever owned in his life.
And every part of him was hyperaware of that fact now. Every footstep behind him sounded a little too close. Every passerby glance lingered just a second longer than it should've, he assumed them to be potential thieves who knew what he was holding.
He didn't let go of the bag, not even for a moment, and the thought of cutting through alleyways was immediately dismissed and ruthlessly squashed the moment it came up due to how stupid the thought was, especially with how many gangs prowled about.
The streets around Central Square were still active despite the hour, especially with gang activity, because that never ended. Oil lanterns floated overhead, bathing the polished cobblestone paths in soft amber light, the market stalls were slowly packing up for the night, with their owners casting various spells to shrink their goods into their storage crates or load them onto their magically enhanced carts, and the city guards, of which half were definitely on a gang payroll, were patrolling the city in groups of either five or seven – five if one of their members was a healer and seven if not.
He tilted his head up ever so slightly to lock eyes with the massive clock tower that loomed over Central Square.
The iron hands ticked forward, glowing ever so faintly as they pointed at a set of numerals.
10:03.
He swore under his breath.
He had less than an hour and fifteen minutes to reach Giovanni's before the big man himself would shut the doors of his restaurant. It was less time than he wanted, especially with how much he needed to accomplish before reaching there.
Making a sharp cut through the small park in the center of the plaza, Deacon broke out into a sprint towards the Waayland's General, the only general store that was both nearby and open at this time.
***
The bell above the door jingled aggressively as Deacon shoved his way into Waayland's General, the glass pane quivering in its frame from the force of his entry, which caused a couple of heads to turn.
One man near the cashier raised an eyebrow, as his hand flinched near his Right Mana Pistol that sat in his right holster on his hip, a pair of elves lounging near the alchemy aisle wrinkled their noses as Deacon passed by them, muttering something in Elvish he didn't have time to translate, nor did his brain want to as they could have only cussed him out, the cashier, a tired-looking dwarf with a stylus in hand, grunted out a brief welcome before going back to marking down the sales for the last transaction he just completed on his mana tablet.
"No running," Waayland grumbled as he saw Deacon just about to start running through his store.
Deacon quickly waved as he saw Waayland before darting into the Appliance section of the store, grabbing one of the bright red baskets that were left floating around aimlessly.
Speed walking through aisles, his eyes bounced from category sign to category sign, looking for where Waayland kept the essentials for Climbing, such as the Leave Tickets, Parchments, and kindling.
"Climber Essentials"
There.
He shot down the left aisle, boots skidding slightly on the polished stone floor as he passed rows of magically-sealed trail rations and potion kits. His fingers brushed across labels until he found the bin marked "Leave Ticket Stack (25 count) – 10k credits."
Item Name: Leave Ticket
Type: Tool
Rarity: Uncommon
Description:
A thin, perforated ticket marked with shimmering ink denoting the Teleportation Hub on Floor Zero. When torn, it initiates a short delay before activating a fixed-point teleportation sequence in which you will be teleported to the Teleporter Hub on Floor Zero after a 5-second delay. This is a single-use item.
Effects:
Single-use Teleportation
He snatched the stack of Leave Tickets that were bound in a strip of blue thread and dropped them into the basket in his other hand. A few aisles over, he found the kindling and parchments bundles.
"Perfect," he muttered, snagging three each of them and dropping them into the basket in his hand.
He pivoted again, glancing toward the aisle labeled "Environmental Tools."
Are the spatial tools there? Deacon mused before looking through the massive aisle.
It was only after four minutes of looking through he was sure that no spatial tools were in fact not in the Environmental Tools aisle.
However, there was something that caught his eyes when looking through it: a "Compact Cooling Unit – 15k credits".
Item Name: Compact Cooling Unit
Type: Tool
Rarity: Common
Description:
A portable, self-contained cooling system designed for on the go travel and varying climates; however, it is best to keep it out of the rain and away from volcanoes. Is able to generate a steady flow of cold air, capable of regulating the temperature in small enclosed spaces. Powered by either standard mana batteries or by filling up the internal battery with unattuned mana.
Effects:
Produces an adjustable continuous breeze of cool air.
Deacon's boots padded against the floor as he moved further into the store, the basket bumping against his leg with each step. The Compact Cooling Unit sat heavy inside, nestled among the bundled parchments, kindling, and a stack of Leave Tickets. He retraced his steps briefly, trying to remember if any of the side aisles near the center featured signage related to storage.
"Kitchenette Supplies"
"Painting Materials"
"Tables"
Where the hell is the Spatial Tools aisle? Deacon grumbled to himself. I saw in here when I was browsing for supplies three months ago…
He tilted his head and frowned, shifting the basket to his other hand as he moved toward the back quarter of the shop.
Just as he rounded the end of an aisle marked "Accounting Stationeries," he heard a familiar voice call out his name.
"Deacon!" Bonehead shouted from the entrance of Waayland's General.
Deacon's eyes widened as he pivoted on his heel and leaped three meters into the air, his head reaching just a foot above the other aisles to get a fleeting glance at the entrance of the store to see Bonehead and Sam looking around for him, uncaring about the looks they got from the others.
Landing back on the ground, Deacon then shouted, "Accounting Stationaries aisle!" just before leaping up once again and waving wildly at them, catching their gaze for a moment before gravity called.
Bonehead elbowed Sam in the ribs with a grin before the both of them began weaving their way through the aisles toward him.
"Thanks for coming this late," Deacon said as they reached him, raising the side of his fist to them in greeting, to which they both knocked their fists against it.
Bonehead slapped him on the back. "Nah, it's no problem. I asked my Dad to take over my hemotoxin poison I was brewing in return for getting him some donuts." Peeking over the basket, he asked, "You got everything from here?"
"About that," Deacon cut in, tone shifting as his eyes roamed the aisle behind them again, "you two wouldn't happen to know where Waayland stocks the spatial storage tools, would you? I need to buy a couple of them."
Sam gave him a sideways look. "You got enough to fit the bill for them? If not, I can fit in half the bill for you."
Deacon's eyes scanned around them for a moment before he loosened the string around the pack on his chest and discreetly revealed its contents to the both of them. Both Bonehead and Sam's eyes widened in shock at the 300,000 credits that were stuffed within, along with a number of pearls.
"Holy shit," Bonehead quietly let out as his hands shot forward to tighten back the string around the pack to keep its contents hidden. "You got all of this from trading in what you found on Floor Three?"
"I only traded in less than a tenth of what Jass, Esmerelda, and I found in less than three and a half days into Floor Three," Deacon said in a whispered hush to them. "We have barely a couple of weeks before someone clears Floor Three and makes it appear on the World Map for Floor Three, and the guilds milk it dry."
"I can convince my Dad to let me go early," Sam said. "But by early, I mean in like two to three days from now."
"Same here," Bonehead nodded. "I have to move a bunch of shit around and call a few favors from my younger cousins to do a couple of all-nighters for me, but I should be able to have all I need for us potion and poison-wise."
"Okay, okay… just make sure that you know how to cast the Obscuring and Concealing wards," Deacon said while looking at Sam, who nodded, before repeating his question to them once more. "Now, back to my main question, do you guys know where the spatial storages are kept in Waaylands?"
Bonehead raised a finger and spun in place, scanning the ends of each aisle. "If I remember right, Waayland moved his storage stuff when he renovated a couple of days ago for some reason. They should be two aisles over from here. Actually, they're just near the Socks aisle."
Deacon gave a sharp nod as Bonehead gestured toward the Socks aisle, then turned, boots thudding quietly against the tiled floor as he led the way. A couple of seconds later, Deacon's boots slowed to a stop as the three of them rounded the corner near the Socks aisle. Bonehead gave a small grunt and pointed toward the middle shelf of the next aisle over.
"There," he said. "That's the new spot."
Deacon followed his finger and saw the modest wooden sign nailed above a waist-high display shelf: "Spatial Tools."
Looking up and down the aisle, Deacon found exactly what he was looking for, "Small Spatial Pocket – 50k credits".
Item Name: Spatial Sling Bag
Type: Tool
Rarity: Uncommon
Description:
A black and easily customizable sling bag that is able to access a small spatial pocket. Despite its size, it can hold far more than it appears to without worry of weight, so long as it can fit inside the spatial pocket. Cannot store living beings within the spatial pocket.
Effects:
Provides access to a small spatial pocket for item storage.
He turned slightly and looked back at the other two. "Do you guys already have spatial storages? Cause if not, can you hold the stuff here so I can book it to an enchanters to sell the pearls I got."
Sam nodded. "Yeah, I got one from my uncle a couple of years ago, and it's still in good condition, so I don't need one."
Bonehead rolled his shoulder. "I've got one too, but I got mine from my Dad when I went back home after getting my Alchemist Class."
"Okay, great. Then that's everything I need from here," Deacon muttered before starting to head towards the cashier.
"If you got the credits, you should really look into getting a locking enchantment on them if you, Jass, and Esmerelda aren't gonna Soulbind them," Sam remarked as they speed walked toward the cashier.