Learning the Weight of Coins
I stood there with the pouch in my hand.
Warm. Heavy. Real.
"…Okay," I muttered. "How do I even count these?"
They weren't paper. They weren't neat stacks like back home. Just small metal coins—similar sizes, different weights, faint markings I didn't recognize yet.
Don't look suspicious.
Don't look lost.
I looked around instead.
Not the Guild. Not adventurers. Not gods.
"…A shop."
Simple. Normal. Boring.
I walked until I found a small street vendor—fruits and veggies. The kind of place that dealt with low valis all day, every day.
I placed the pouch down.
"Excuse me," I said carefully. "Can you… count this for me? I just sold some stones. I don't know if it's right."
The vendor glanced at me once—quick, experienced—then nodded.
"Sure."
He counted them in a rhythm.
"Not from around here. Eh?"
"Yes." I scratched the back of my head. Awkward.
I watched closely.
"…So that's how," I murmured.
When he finished, I understood. The shapes. The scratches. Which ones mattered more. Which ones were barely worth the trouble.
"…Eight hundred and sixty valis," he said. "Looks clean."
Relief hit me harder than the Dungeon had.
"Thank you," I said, bowing slightly.
He shrugged. "Spend it before it spends you."
Good advice.
I moved a few feet away and tried counting them, just like he did.
This coin—clink.
That coin—clink.
Sorted by sound, by wear, by the tiny markings stamped into the metal.
Now it made sense.
My shoulders drooped.
Or—no.
They didn't.
Knowing was better than guessing.
Same stall. Same man.
"Please," I said, a little steadier now. "Can I get an apple?"
He didn't look up. "Money, kid."
I nodded and held out a coin.
"For this?"
"Yes." I said defensively.
He paused. Looked at me this time. Long enough to decide whether I was trouble.
"Looks suspicious," he muttered.
My heart skipped.
He took one coin.
Then pushed a few apples toward me—small, a little bruised, wrapped in a thin paper bag that had already lived one life too many.
"Here," he said. "Don't drop them."
I took the bag carefully.
Warmth bled through the paper. The simple, honest weight of food. I inhaled and caught that sharp, clean apple smell.
Looks like foods are not that pricy round here after all...
"…Thanks," I said.
I stepped away, chewing slowly as I walked, and sighed.
"I miss carry bags," I muttered to no one. "Survival stuff."
Paper tore if you breathed on it wrong. Apples rolled if you weren't careful. Everything here demanded attention.
Dinner at the Safest Place
It was nearly dark.
Lantern light bled into the streets, turning Orario softer and more dangerous at the same time. I went back to my… camp. Not a home. Not yet. Just stone and quiet.
I dropped down against the wall, unwrapped the paper bag, and stared at the apples.
"…Yeah," I sighed. "This won't do."
Apples were good. Honest. But not energy. Not Dungeon energy. Tomorrow would need muscle, focus, and luck—and apples alone were just asking to faint mid-fight.
Other places?
Dangerous.
Shady.
Questions I couldn't answer.
Which left only one option.
"…Mama Mia," I muttered, half-prayer, half-apology.
The Hostess of Fertility glowed at the end of the street, loud and warm like it always was. The kind of place that didn't pretend to be gentle—but didn't cheat either.
"Syr won't rob me," I told myself. "Neither will—"
I paused, then smirked.
"Ehehehe… Ryuu Lion."
Yeah. Her. She won't either.
---
I pushed the door open. Heat, noise, meat on the grill. My stomach tightened, angry now that it remembered what food smelled like.
I took a seat near the counter. Didn't say much.
"Welcome back," Syr Flova said, smiling like this was ordinary. "Hungry?"
"…Yeah."
Behind the counter, Ryuu looked over. One glance. Long enough. The Dungeon dust on my clothes. The way I stood. The way I didn't look around.
She didn't ask.
"Sit," she said.
I placed my pouch on the counter. Light sound. Not empty. Not impressive.
"One cheap meal," I said. "Something that lasts."
Syr nodded and turned away.
Ryuu stayed where she was.
Watching.
Not suspicious. Not kind.
Just… attentive.
I waited.
As I waited, I let myself breathe.
This place again.
Warm. Loud. Safe.
For tonight, at least.
Tomorrow was the Dungeon.
But tonight?
Tonight, I would eat like someone who planned to live.
[End of Chapter]
Author's Notes:
860 valis from 7 stones. Not bad. Not great. Enough to not starve immediately.
Learning to count coins by watching a street vendor = actual survival skill nobody talks about. Currency systems hit different when you can't just swipe a card.
The Hostess of Fertility: where you go when you need food, safety, and the confidence that nobody will ask why you look like you crawled out of a hole. Syr smiles. Ryuu watches. Both are equally dangerous for different reasons.
Next time: Dinner continues. Conversations happen.