The man shoved his way up to the counter and roughly pushed Rune aside.
"Move, kid. I'm here to sell some crystal ore. For the bonus."
He hoisted the massive sack and slammed it down onto the marble with a heavy thud.
"I'd be happy to purchase your ore," the manager said calmly, "but I'm afraid the bonus is no longer in effect."
"What do you mean no longer in effect?" His voice rose. "The notice says it's active for another two weeks."
"If you had read the full notice," she replied evenly, "you would have seen it states two weeks, or until the quota was met."
He froze.
"No. No, no, no." His hands clenched into fists. "I already paid those new recruits. Took merit off their debt to the faction. If I sell this at the normal rate, I won't make any profit."
"Excuse me," the manager said, her tone sharpening just slightly. "Are you saying you did not gather these materials yourself?"
Silence.
"If these materials belong to your faction," she continued, "I can transfer the merits directly to the Broken Crown's account."
She paused.
"Unless, of course, you are admitting to acting as an unlicensed middleman. In that case, I would need to extract a fee."
The man weighed his options in silence.
He couldn't have the merits transferred to his faction. That would leave him with nothing, putting him deep in the negative. The only choice left was to take the normal payout, accept the middleman fee, and swallow the loss.
"Fine," he snapped. "I'll take the merits myself. With all the fees."
He narrowed his eyes.
"But tell me this. What faction took the bonus?"
"No faction," the manager replied calmly. "And I'm not at liberty to share information about our clients."
Rune stepped forward. "No worries, you can tell him. It was me."
The man turned, finally looking at the person he had shoved aside earlier.
"And I don't have a faction."
"Who are you?" he demanded. "How does some no faction peasant deliver that much crystal?"
For the first time since the nickname started spreading, Rune leaned into it.
"Me?" he said lightly. "Who am I?"
A slow smile crept across his face.
"Well, maybe you've heard of me. I'm the Immortal Goblin. The one who had a bit of fun in the woods with your fellow Crown members."
The bustling lobby fell silent. Heads turned. Conversations stopped. Eyes fixed on Rune as the rumors were no longer rumors.
"The… Crazy… Immortal… Goblin," the man stammered.
Rune leaned in closer, his voice low.
"No, haven't you heard? I'm not crazy anymore."
The man paled. He slapped his hand onto the marble plate, finalized the transfer without another word, then bolted for the exit.
"I'll get you back for this, goblin!" he shouted as he fled. "Mark my words. The Crown always collects what's owed!"
The massive marble doors slammed shut behind him.
The manager cleared her throat.
"I apologize for that, sir. We normally ensure our clients are treated with more respect. I hope you won't hold this incident against the Ledger."
"It's fine," Rune replied. "One thing I've learned since coming to this world is that the Broken Crown tends to be… well. Mostly like that."
He paused, thinking.
"I do have a question," he said slowly. "It's probably not your department, but I heard the Ledger manages housing within the city. I was looking to get a permanent place."
"That's correct," she replied. "What area were you considering?"
"I'm staying in one of the empty districts right now, at an inn," Rune said. "Given my… reputation, I wouldn't mind something out of the way like that."
"If that's the case, then there wouldn't even need to be a payment," she said. "Empty districts are open to anyone. Only buildings in heavily populated districts are claimed, managed, or put up for sale."
"So I can just… claim any building or residence I want?"
"Yes, sir. Each individual may register one property under their name within the system. Factions follow different rules, but that doesn't apply to you."
She gestured lightly, as if the answer were obvious.
"Simply find the property you want and place your hand on it to register it as yours. They say the gods built this city thousands of years ago. We've only taken up residence in what they built before they left."
"Alright, thank you for answering my questions."
"Anytime, sir. And if you acquire more materials, please feel free to bring them here for sale."
Rune turned and walked out of the Ledger.
After selling everything, he found himself in a position he hadn't expected so soon.
He was, at the very least, mildly rich.
*****
The magitech shop always had a particular smell to it. Herbs and aromatics layered over the scent of dwarven work: clean, sterile, and still carrying the faint trace of metal that had been handled a thousand times.
"Gretta," Rune called as he stepped inside. "It's me, your favorite customer, and today I want something better than those horrible burning potions."
"Did you just call my potions horrible?" The reply came instantly, sharp and offended. "Last I checked, you told me they saved your life multiple times."
A younger dwarf woman emerged from the back room, goggles pushed up on her head, the same way her brother wore them.
Rune jokingly lifted his hands in surrender.
"I did say that. I also screamed when I used them, which I'm choosing to blame on you."
Gretta's mouth twitched, somewhere between annoyance and amusement.
"You know," she added, leaning against the doorway, "Gorthy and I had dinner the other night."
"Thanks for forcing that on him. Between our work schedules, we don't get to see each other much."
Rune smiled, genuinely pleased to hear that.
"You know, I've been wondering, what is a magi-technician, anyway? I know you make potions, but you do other things too, right?"
Gretta tapped the goggles on her head as if considering how to explain it without insulting him.
"Element or magic is wild. Untamed." She held up a hand. "Think of it like a campfire."
Then she curled her fingers, like she was closing a lid.
"What I do is closer to a furnace. I give it rules. Shape it. Control the output so it's stronger and more refined."
"Well, I came into some merits," he said, "and I definitely want to buy higher grade potions. Ones that don't feel worse than the wound they're healing."
He hesitated, then added, "And also…"
Rune reached into his pouch and pulled out the orange and green cores he had set aside, placing them carefully on the counter.
"I was told these can be turned into accessories or consumables. Can you do that here?"
Gretta's eyes lit up. Then she leaned forward with a grin that was entirely too pleased.
"You beautiful, beautiful human," she said, almost reverently. "You walk in here saying you want to buy my good stuff, and you bring me quality materials to play with?"
She pointed a finger at him like she'd caught him in a crime.
"You flirting with me?"