She crossed her arms but followed when he stepped down, silk brushing stone in irritation.
The bell above the entrance gave a soft chime as they entered.
Inside, the shop smelled faintly of oil and aged wood.
Weapons lined the walls in careful rows, their craftsmanship uneven but earnest.
Near the counter stood a man with an expression too composed to be natural, posture straight as a drawn blade. Behind the counter, a young woman lifted her head from where she had been resting against her folded arms.
"Big Sister," the man near the table said evenly. "Customers."
Kiara straightened and studied the pair without haste.
The man before her carried himself with unstudied elegance, as though the world had always made room for him. His features were arresting in a way that forced the eye to linger, and even the faintest movement of his hand felt deliberate.
The woman at his side wore wealth like armor, chin slightly raised, gaze already assessing and dismissing.
Kiara's inspection skill brushed against their garments. High-grade silk. Fine stitching. Subtle protective enchantments woven into the threads.
These two smell like Money.
"Welcome to Nexus, Esteemed customers," she said, her smile warm and measured. "What are you seeking tonight?"
The young man began to walk along the displays, fingers hovering above blades without touching.
The woman followed, and her expression shifted the closer she looked.
"Trash," she muttered at the first spear.
She moved to the next rack.
"Trash."
Her tone sharpened with each step.
"Who buys this garbage?"
The young man paused beside a longsword, tilting his head as though considering balance and weight, though he did not voice judgment.
Kiara remained still behind the counter. She had already planned to dismantle most of the displayed stock once the skill was unlocked. Hearing it aloud did not sting, yet the contempt in the woman's voice scraped against patience.
The woman then turned toward her companion with a sneer. "This entire shop is worthless. Let us leave, Dear."
The young man did not move.
Instead, he faced the counter.
"Do you have something else?" he asked, voice smooth yet edged with genuine curiosity.
The woman shot him a look. "You are not serious."
Kiara met his gaze.
"Yes," she replied. "There is one item unique to this shop that I'm sure you won't find anywhere in the entire Empire. Would you like to see it?"
His eyes brightened faintly.
"Bring it."
Kiara then reached beneath the counter and withdrew a narrow wooden case, setting it carefully before them. The lid opened with a soft click.
Within rested a silver pistol, its surface polished to a muted sheen, wooden grip carved with simple precision. Beside it lay several 9 mm rounds, brass casings gleaming under lanternlight.
Silence settled.
The young man leaned forward, his fascination undisguised.
The woman's brows knit together. She had never seen such a weapon. No blade. No bowstring. No visible channeling core. What is this thing?
The young man's fingers hovered above it, restrained only by courtesy.
"This resembles the emblem outside on the shop's sign too," he said quietly. "What is it called?"
Kiara inclined her head.
She then said, lifting the pistol with steady hands. "It is called a pistol."
She turned it slightly so the lamplight traced its barrel. Her fingers moved with practiced familiarity as she indicated each component.
"This is the barrel. This is the trigger. This chamber holds the bullet. It is a ranged, ungraded weapon. Once loaded, it can strike a target ten meters away."
"Ten meters?" The young man's eyes brightened, genuine intrigue softening his otherwise composed features. "Impressive for something so small."
The woman gave a dismissive hum. "Distance means nothing if it cannot harm anyone of worth."
Kiara met her gaze without irritation and said calmly. "Its impact depends on where it lands, Miss."
The young man then turned the pistol in his hand with visible interest. "I want it."
The woman's head snapped toward him. "You cannot be serious."
He smiled faintly. "It seems unique."
The woman crossed her arms, chin lifting. "It is ungraded, Dear. What use does it have? And that tiny metal thing, what did you call it, bullet? I doubt it can scratch even a copper shield."
"If nothing else," he replied lightly, "I can keep it as a display piece. My friends will not have seen anything like it."
Her lips pressed thin. "You indulge yourself too easily."
He only laughed softly. "Well, I'm not a fighter to think about their benefits."
There was a brief pause between them.
"Fine," she said in the end, though reluctance lingered in her tone. "Buy your toy."
He placed the pistol gently back on the velvet lining and looked at Kiara. "Miss, I will take the pistol and the remaining bullets. What is the price?"
"Five gold coins for the pistol," Kiara answered, her smile bright but controlled. "Six bullets for one hundred twenty silver coins. The total is six gold and twenty silver."
For a brief second, satisfaction warmed her chest. A week without sales had tightened her patience, and this single transaction promised momentum.
The woman's expression darkened abruptly at those words.
"You dare charge such a price?" she snapped, stepping forward. "Are you attempting to swindle us?"
A strand of red Ether coiled faintly around her raised hand as she slammed her palm toward the counter.
Kiara did not flinch.
Just before the blow struck wood, another hand intercepted it midair.
"Customers do not have permission to damage store property," Zion stated evenly.
He released her wrist without visible effort.
The woman stared at him, stunned. She was a three-star warrior. Being halted so casually unsettled her composure.
Her pride bristled.
Kiara's smile remained intact.
"If the price does not suit you," she said gently, "you may leave, customer. However, rarity commands value. This weapon does not exist elsewhere in the Empire."
She paused, then added evenly, "And also, It can kill a plainfolki instantly. Even a one-star fighter would suffer severe injury if struck."
The young man's attention sharpened.
"It can injure a one-star warrior?"
"Yes," Kiara replied. "If the target follows a physically weaker path, such as mage or archer, even a two-star practitioner may be harmed, provided the vital points are hit."
The woman's eyes narrowed. "An ungraded weapon injuring a two-star mage?"
Skepticism edged her voice, yet she did not strike again. Zion's silent presence weighed on her calculations.
The young man considered for a moment, then withdrew seven gold coins and placed them neatly on the counter.
"I will purchase it," he said. "But I require proof."
He lifted the folding fan in his hand. "This fan is copper grade. Strike it. If your claim is true, it should leave a mark. If not, we will revisit this conversation."
Kiara did not respond verbally.
She moved.
In a single smooth motion, she loaded a bullet, raised the pistol, and fired.
*bang*
The sound cracked through the shop like a thunderclap.
The woman gasped, startled by the explosion.
A clean hole pierced through the center of the copper grade fan.
Silence followed.
The young man stared at the damage, surprise flickering openly across his face.
Kiara lowered the pistol.
"Well?"