A/N:
I'm finally back! đ My parents took away my laptop and phone for the entire duration of my exams, so I couldn't check messages, comments, or update anything during that time. đ
Sorry for disappearing without warning! Exams are over, I'm back online, and I'll be catching up and getting back to writing as quickly as I can. Thank you for sticking around and being patient with me! â€ïž
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The heavy scent of stone and the distant, rhythmic hum of the plaza faded behind us as we stared at Mashiro's mesmerizing art.
My mind, however, was far from peaceful.
It was racing, whirring like a cooling fan on a laptop pushed to its limits.
Now that we had a glimpse of the "merchandise" we could offer, it was time to transition from aimless tourists to actual strategists.
I stole a glance at the canvas in Mashiro's hands.
Even in the shifting light of the afternoon, her drawing was transcendent.
It wasn't just "good"âit was high-society, luxury-tier art.
It didn't matter what world we were in; talent like that was a universal currency.
I had promised her I would show her the wonders of the world to fuel her inspiration.
Coming to a literal different dimension probably checked off at least half of that promise, but the next part was the tricky one: her growth as an artist.
I didn't know the first thing about "artistic growth."
Do I buy her better brushes?
Do I find her a master?
Anyway, I thought, rubbing my chin, with work of this caliber, I could probably open a prestigious gallery or sell pieces to the highest-ranking nobles.
It's the fastest way to gain both massive amounts of capital and high-level political connections.
But then, a cold knot formed in my stomach.
The problem was that these were Mashiro's drawings.
Asking her to let me sell them for profit felt... wrong.
It felt like walking up to a child who had poured their entire soul into a sandcastle and telling them I was going to charge admission to see it.
She was so quiet, so pure in her passion.
To tell her, "Hey, let me use the thing you love to make us rich," felt like the ultimate "adult" betrayal.
"Hey, kid, you like doing this? Well, in the adult world, you have to commodify your passion just to keep a roof over your head."
The bitter taste of adulthood rose in my throat.
It was the darkness of reality, the cynical necessity of survival.
I looked at her innocent, focused face and decided I couldn't bring it up directlyânot yet.
I'd have to find a way to ask her indirectly later, once we weren't literally penniless.
"First step is the startup capital," I whispered to myself.
Monster hunting seemed like the most logical 'Job A.'
In this world, money wasn't just for food; it was the key to unlocking everythingâskills, forbidden magic, and the unique power systems of this realm.
If I wanted to get stronger, I needed a war chest.
Alternatively, I could play it safe.
I could buy a Chansey from the system and open a clinic.
Seeing those dinosaur-like creatures acting as beasts of burden in the plaza made me realize how much people here relied on their animals.
A professional healer for domestic monsters would be a goldmine.
But that's for later, I reminded myself.
Right now, we need a place to sleep.
An inn was the obvious choice, but our current balance was a resounding zero.
I stood up abruptly, clapping my hands together with a sharp crack that echoed off the nearby stone walls.
"Alright, everyone! Get ready to move. It's time to earn some startup cash!"
With a few swift mental commands, I stored our remaining gear back into my inventory.
The space shimmered for a second before swallowing the items whole.
"Now, before this turns into a boring, monotonous stroll, let's have a quick quiz!"
I announced, trying to inject some shonen-protagonist energy into the group.
Ravel didn't even look at me.
She just kept walking, her nose turned up slightly.
"No need. The atmosphere is much more exciting when you keep your mouth shut, Zevion."
Ugh. Right in the heart.
I clutched my chest dramatically, but my theatrics were interrupted by a soft, familiar sensation.
I felt a small, delicate hand wrap around mine.
I turned to see Mashiro.
She wasn't looking at me, her gaze fixed straight ahead as we walked, but she held my hand with a gentle, firm grip.
"So we don't get lost," she murmured quietly.
My eyes practically welled up.
"Mashiro... you're an angel..."
Ignoring Ravel's judgmental sigh, I pressed on with my question.
"Anyway! What is the absolute easiest, most cliché way to earn startup money in a fantasy world?"
Mashiro tilted her head, thinking for a moment.
"Ask other people for it?" she suggested innocently.
"That's just begging, Mashiro! But points for honesty."
Ravel, despite her earlier claim of not being interested, couldn't help but chime in with her 'competent person' logic.
"The most efficient way would be to identify a high-ranking individual related to your specific skillset, demonstrate your overwhelming potential, and secure a long-term sponsorship."
I stared at her.
"Damn, Ravel. That is terrifyingly practical and sounds like a lot of paperwork."
Then, a cold, chilling voice spoke up from behind us.
Giratina.
"By killing someone or something strong," she said, her voice as if saying something completely normal.
"And taking their possessions. Or their bounty. It is the natural order."
"Giratina... that's a great idea if we weren't currently in our 'stealth phase.' We don't know the power scaling of this world yet! If we kill the wrong person, we'll have a kingdom-wide manhunt on our hands before we've even had breakfast."
Ravel stopped and looked at me, her curiosity finally winning out.
"So? What is your 'brilliant' alternative?"
We had turned away from the scenic canal and were now entering a district where the buildings leaned inward, casting long, jagged shadows across the narrow streets.
I led us into a particularly dim, damp alleyway, a smirk widening on my face.
"The easiest way," I said, letting out a slightly maniacal, over-the-top laugh, "is to find some bad guys and relieve them of their ill-gotten gains!"
I turned back to them, gesturing to the shadows around us.
"Think about it! It's a perfect plan. No one complains if you beat up thugs. We get to clear out some local scum, we get some combat practice, and we get paid. That's three birds with one stone!"
Ravel looked at me with pure, unadulterated disgust.
Giratina remained completely indifferent, as if my moral compass were a toy she didn't care to play with.
Mashiro just tilted her head in confusion, her hand still tucked in mine.
"And here I was, actually expecting something intelligent to come out of your mouth," Ravel groaned.
"You're just acting like a common delinquent."
"Hey! It's called 'reallocating criminal assets'!"
I countered.
"Anyway, let's go. I want to sleep in a bed tonight, not on a park bench."
We delved deeper into the labyrinthine alleys.
The air grew cooler, smelling of damp earth and stale refuse.
It didn't take long for the world to provide exactly what I was looking for.
Three figures emerged from the gloom ahead, blocking our path.
Thug A looked like a walking wall of meat, his belly straining against a filthy shirt.
Thug C was a wiry, short fellow lurking in the back, fiddling with a rusted dagger.
But it was Thug B who stepped forward.
He was slim, with wild, greasy hair and a look in his eyes that screamed 'unstable.'
Clearly, the leader of this charming trio.
"Yo, yo, yo..."
Thug B drawled, his gaze raking over Ravel, Mashiro, and Giratina with a greasy, unsettling leer.
"Three beautiful girls in a dark place like this? It's almost like you're inviting something bad to happen~."
He took a step closer, clicking his tongue.
"You must be new around here. Tell you whatâwe can teach you how the world works in these parts. All you gotta do is cough up everything you've got. Every coin, every trinket. Pretty good deal, no?"
I stepped forward, shielding the girls, though I knew they needed no protection. My smirk was wider than ever.
Finally, I thought, my hand drifting toward my inventory.
Here they areâmy walking wallets.
"Let's go!"
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