by Nikita Thorn
There was sorrow everywhere, and Seiki reasoned that it was perhaps time for him to stop being so obsessed over his own. The first light of dawn was already lighting up the sky and, for the first time, Seiki thought the whole house and the fields around were no longer foreboding, but peaceful.
Dairi Residence Mission completed. 290 XP gained.
Chapter 07
Market Street during the weekend, lit with lines of colorful paper lamps and packed with stalls, was always a sight to behold. Patrols were tight, since their numbers varied according to the density of players, but trouble was generally rare, as there seemed to be an unspoken rule that you did not brawl during the market peak hours if you did not want to be hounded by assassins for the rest of the week—most likely sent by the Merchants’ Guild.
On this particular weekend, the street had drawn a larger crowd than usual, perhaps boosted by the general excitement that had lasted from the world event a few days ago. It seemed that everyone made a point of showing up, even if it was just for the opportunity to gawk at superior mounts and gear. This was the golden hour for business.
Kentaro’s favorite spot in the kakigouri shop was slightly less crowded, since it came with an indirect cost. To secure a table, you had to keep ordering a bowl of the sugary ice dessert every ten minutes, or Mami the shop girl would politely ask you to leave. And failure to do so would soon result in a patrol officer coming in to remove you by force. Kentaro had claimed this was a very small price to pay to establish a permanent business and, in practice, the nature of how this worked was not entirely objectionable.
“Single-charge ones are five gold each,” said Seiki, pointing to the rows of colorful bag charms laid out neatly on a tray in front of him. “The dark blues over here are triple-charge, twelve each, thirty for three.” Seiki had lost count of how many times he had said these exact same phrases over the past few weeks. Opposite him, Keiko of the Kensoku Guards [Level 12], a ryoushi girl in shorts, was still undecided.
As part of an informal deal for free armor repairs, Seiki and Ippei had agreed to watch the shop during the market’s weekly rush hours whenever the houshi had something else to do. Seiki had pretty much based his schedule around this arrangement. The day before, he had already finished his weekly military mission, which turned out to be a straightforward solo one out the West Gate, where you helped villagers put off fire and fend off attackers. He even checked out the crafting mission, but it was for either Mining or Pottery that week, and Seiki was not quite sure he was ready to pick up more trade skills just yet. After that, he had visited the Shogun once more for the reward boxes, which had yielded minor upgrades for clothes and the usual potions and random crafting items that could be sold or pawned.
“Thirty seems like a lot right now, but it’ll save you money in the long run,” added Ippei. Beside him, Mami was setting down his fourth bowl of matcha ice, which Seiki was quite sure his friend had not really needed to order.
“Considering the statistics, three charms will last you at least six to eight months,” said Ippei, handing ten silvers to the kakigouri shop girl. “As long as you stay out of the black market, of course.”
Seiki was not quite sure where Ippei had gotten his statistics from, but the samurai sounded confident.
Keiko thought about it, turning a few gold coins in her hand. “I’ll just take one triple-charge then.” She pursed her lips. “For ten,” she said, hopefully.
Kentaro had been adamant about not giving extra discounts, and Seiki shook his head. “Sorry, the price is fi—”
“Eleven,” said Ippei, before Seiki could finish. “And if you come back within this week, I’ll sell you a second one for ten.” He had a kind of smile Seiki had never seen before, causing Keiko to hesitate.
“Well, you know what,” said Ippei. “Two for twenty right now. How about that? My boss is going to kill me, but this is better than nothing.” He sighed, sounding miserably defeated, as he looked her directly in the eye. “We all gotta make rent, right?”
That did it. Keiko had a change of heart, handed over twenty gold and left with her new charms that would thwart a total of six pickpocketing attempts.
“Thank you! You just saved my life!” called Ippei after the ryoushi girl, who turned to give him a smile before disappearing into the crowd outside. Seiki had a feeling that they would be seeing her around.
“And that’s how you do it.” Ippei grinned as he dropped the gold into his pouch, before jotting down the amount on a piece of post paper with a chunk of charcoal.
Ippei’s curious strategy seemed to be working. They had already made ninety-eight gold in the past hour, and this fresh sale just put them over a hundred. Seiki wondered if the world event rewards had injected more gold into the economy, since business had never been this good.
“Box run?” suggested Seiki. Even with the extra patrols tonight, anything over a hundred gold could still be attracting the wrong kind of attention and would be much safer in someone’s private territory across the street. And at least, that way, he could make himself useful. “I’ll go.”
“Well, fortunately, from now on, that won’t be necessary anymore,” said Kentaro’s excited voice.
Kentaro had presumably finished whatever he needed to do and had now materialized beside them. He was wearing a long gray and gold robe, which he had made himself, most likely making use of his extra gold threads that he had been practicing making.
“Because we now have this.” The houshi proudly placed a medium-sized polished wood box in the middle of the table, beside the charms tray. The body of the box was black with minimal pearl decorations, with a slit on top which was just large enough for coins. On the side was a rather intricate golden clasp with a bird-like motif.
Fine Kiri Wood Coin Box. Made by Michiko of the Crafters Guild.
“It’s a… coin box,” said Ippei.
“Kiri wood,” said Seiki, not sure why he was slightly surprised. He knew kiri wood, since he had started cutting them at Level 13 Woodcutting. Most of the woodblocks, he gave to Kentaro in exchange for repairs, and he wondered if it was his woodblocks that eventually went into making this particular box.
“Yes, but that’s not it,” said the houshi, as he tapped his finger on the golden clasp. “Try again.”
“A… blood lock?” Seiki guessed.
An unexpected result of being involved in Kentaro’s business had been the fact that Seiki was now rather well-versed in the matter of locks, charms and pickpockets. Normal locks could be picked by anyone with the Lock-picking skill. A blood lock, made with a combination of Enchanting and Locksmithing, offered an extra layer of protection by allowing users to imprint it with their own blood, rendering it safe from being picked for a certain period of time, and would only unlock upon contact with another drop of blood from the same user. Blood-locked containers could also be recalled, very much like named blades, from the Bureau of Lost and Found, should the user happen to lose any. The downside was that they could not be used to secure weapons and gear, which was an argument Ippei often used to convince customers that bag charms were a much better investment, since they prevented pickpocketing in the first place.
“Nothing that barbaric, no.” Kentaro frowned. “Okay, just inspect it, all right?”
True Lock. Made by Iesada of the Crafters Guild.
“High-end,” said Ippei.
Seiki could not help but be a little amused. True Locks were the ultimate things Locksmiths could make, and he found it rather funny that the most expensive lock was essentially one that worked as it was supposed to in real life.
Kentaro seemed very pleased. “One lock, one key, completely unpickable, and without all the silly magical shenanigans.”
Normal locks, made with lower-level Locksmithing, needed no key. Ippei had explained that, in Beta, people were always losing keys and getting them mixed up, so they finally did away with them. And now, only the owner of the lock could snap it shut to lock
it and open it afterward. In practice, this was not entirely helpful, considering how common Lock-picking was.
“How much?” Ippei asked the houshi, as he studied the golden clasp on the box.
“Slightly over nine hundred,” said Kentaro, casually. “And that’s on top of a twenty-slot leather bag that I had to give the crafter. A pretty good deal, I’d say.”
Ippei almost choked on his ice dessert.
Seiki stared at the houshi. “That’s, like, five years’ worth of rent.”
“Five years?” Kentaro seemed amused. “I guess… but only if you’re still content with living in that tiny… uh, place across the street,” he said, perhaps deciding not to use a more derogatory term for the simple territory at Central Crossing, which practically everyone owned for the sake of being just opposite the pawn shop. The houshi had recently rented another private territory in a small mansion with a courtyard in North City, where he could practice his numerous crafts in peace.
“But you can still blood-lock it, right?” asked Seiki.
“Uh, why would you need to do that?”
“So you can recall it from the Bureau if someone snatches it?”
“No. True Locks are real locks. Blood locks are more of an enchant,” said the houshi. “The thing is no one will be able to open this, ever, since the only key is in my box in the mansion. And that’s the only place where I’m going to open it. So, there is no incentive for anyone to do such a thing.”
An item that was worth more than nine hundred gold should definitely be more impressive than that. “Why wouldn’t they give it a recall?” Seiki wondered. “I mean, if someone just decides to grab it and throw it into a river, that’s nine hundred gold.”
Kentaro frowned. “Who would do that?”
“Because then it would allow you to cheat distance,” said Ippei, answering Seiki’s question. “Let’s say, you’re in Shinshioka and want to get something from Fuoka quickly. That’s two hours away at a gallop. So, you send a friend to Fuoka with your box in advance. Your friend gets the item, puts it in the box, locks it, pigeons you the key—back when keys could still be pigeoned, anyway. You go to the Bureau, spend all your Favor to instantly recall the box, and get it in Shinshioka in seconds. That was a huge exploit in Beta.” The samurai chuckled. “Not so great for realism.”
Kentaro wrinkled his brows. “And all this is for… some kind of a feudal Japan express delivery service?”
Seiki carefully thought about it, remembering now the incident at Taira Mansion when he witnessed the West Defenders invade the Society territory for the unique blade. “Raids,” he said. “And robberies. If you can recall a box, it eliminates the need for you to even get out of there alive. All you need to do is get your hands on an item and put it in a box, and the owner can recall it from faraway.”
“Yeah,” said Ippei. “All you needed to do was pigeon off the key before people killed you, which made for very amusing robberies. And people started hiring ryoushi for bodyguards.”
Seiki was not sure if he was supposed to understand how that followed. “Why?”
“To shoot the pigeon.”
Seiki blinked. “You can shoot post pigeons?”
“Animal cruelty,” muttered Kentaro.
“Yeah,” said Ippei. “And if you kill it, you can actually cook it, you know,” he said, most likely just to get a reaction out of Kentaro.
“Anyway,” said Ippei. “The birds fade away when they’re out of sight but, before that, you can shoot and intercept the message, or even swipe them with your sword if you’re quick enough. It’s hard to do, since you can’t really target them, and even a Focused Shot isn’t guaranteed a 100% hit. So, the ryoushi typically switch to Rapid Shots, and the whole thing ends in a massive brawl.” He laughed as he remembered something else. “Not to mention that, one time, someone got smart and released multiple birds at once. I think it was one of the Paupers.”
“Beta must have been a wild place,” said Seiki, secretly wishing he could have seen it.
“Yeah. I guess the whole concept of recall is just for you not to lose your important items to cut down on the amount of whining they get,” said Ippei.
“Good thing they got rid of all that,” said Kentaro. “And in case you’re wondering, you can’t get coins out through the slit no matter what. I tried it myself for half an hour last night, and the coins were just never at the right angle, so I think they designed this specifically for merchants.” The houshi smiled, holding out the box. “So… fill her up.”
Seiki and Ippei had agreed to share the responsibility of holding the money, so that if something happened there would be a chance that one of them got out with half the amount. As Seiki dropped fifty-something gold into the box, he felt a sense of relief.
“And here’s tonight’s yield.” Ippei handed Kentaro the sales report on the post paper.
The houshi sighed as he read the first line. “You’re giving out discounts again, aren’t you? There’s a standard market price, you know, and if you go too low we’re going to get in trouble with the Merchants’ Guild.” He sighed again. “And, Calligraphy is only next door. So, if you would get yourselves Calligraphy Level 1, we wouldn’t have to deal with all this, uh, flaking.” He blew on the paper to get rid of the loose charcoal dust.
“Brush, ink, two slots,” Ippei pointed out. “Charcoal, one slot, and it’s free from the post office. Unless you want to supply us with one of your twenty-slot bags?”
Kentaro ignored him as he studied the report. “Well, it’s not bad,” said the houshi in slight surprise. “Over a hundred?” He happily shook the safety box, which was now decently heavy with jingling coins, causing Yama of the Honor Warriors [Level 9] and Megumi of the Honor Warriors [Level 11] at a table beside them to turn to look.
“Better not do that,” Seiki warned him.
Kentaro peered behind his back, and the two Honor Warriors quickly looked away. “Why so pessimistic about people?”
“If you only hang out with the Social Guild, you wouldn’t know,” said Ippei.
“There are some who would go out of their way just to make your life difficult,” said Seiki.
There had not been any obvious trouble but, a few days ago, a Level 18 Rogami member had tried to one-shot Ippei as they rode past. While it could have been completely by chance, since these things happened to low-level people on a regular basis, Seiki had a bad feeling that his friends were now involved in whatever vendetta the Rogami had against him.
Kentaro shrugged. “I guess just don’t make enemies then.”
Ippei seemed to understand Seiki’s concern. “I’ve got bad news. You might have made enemies through association already,” said the samurai. “Like, it’s not entirely unlikely that the Rogami Clan would barge in right now and start torturing us and tell you to open the box.”
Kentaro’s eyes widened in horror. “The things you people think about,” he said. Ippei chuckled, and Seiki could not really understand why the samurai found the whole Rogami thing rather amusing.
“You can’t torture people in this game,” said the houshi. “And… you’re scaring my customers.”
In front of them, Masaji [Level 4], in a simple dark blue yukata, who appeared to be fresh off South City, had wandered in for a casual look. She was now staring at them in bewilderment at the mention of torture.
Kentaro turned to greet her. “Please don’t mind my shop assistants, who clearly don’t know what they’re talking about. And, no, you can’t torture people in this game,” said the houshi with a smile, before turning to frown at Seiki and Ippei. “And can someone do something about that bird that is walking all over my charms please? It’s certainly not mine.”
A pigeon had landed on the tray and was pecking at the single-charge charms, perhaps to get attention, causing Masaji to ask, “What’s this?” The bird then looked up at Seiki and cooed.
As Kentaro patiently explained about pigeons, post houses, an
d pickpockets to the Level 4, Seiki grabbed the message.
Mumei [Level 4]: (1 minute ago) Come to Nanamura in one hour.
“This again,” he muttered. These anonymous messages had kept coming for the past two days now. He was starting to feel that it did not sound like what the Shadow Manor would do, or even the Rogami Clan, but he had no idea who else it could be that felt the need to conceal their identity. Seiki had already tried writing back to tell they had the wrong person, but the messages had not stopped.
Whoever it was, this nagging tactic was not going to work on him. He sighed, crumpled up the paper and tossed it onto the ground, where it disintegrated in a gentle puff of smoke like all discarded items.
Ippei had been watching with interest. “Did you break someone’s heart?”
That immediately caught Kentaro’s attention. “Who?”
Seiki shook his head. “It’s this Mumei person. Someone wants me to go to Nanamura.” He had read the village name so many times he was starting to sound like he had been there himself. “It’s been a few days. When I don’t go, they just push back the time and send another message.”
The samurai grinned. “You sure you didn’t break someone’s heart? Who knows? It could be a fan girl from the Ichikeya challenge.”
Seiki kept forgetting how many people had witnessed the fight, which in his opinion had been blown way out of proportion. At that time, he really had no idea what he was getting himself into, and the whole thing had not even been out of his own volition.
“Could be Sora,” said Ippei, finally getting serious.
For some reason, Ippei was now convinced that the mysterious voice at the East Gate had been one of the old players.
“You should definitely go,” said Kentaro, earnestly, before adding, “It’s not nice to keep a girl waiting.”
Seiki rolled his eyes. “It’s not a girl, all right?”
Kentaro shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt. And Nanamura is definitely worth a visit. It’s got all these picturesque bridges and canals and old buildings. Mairin and I had a lot of fun there. There’s this repeatable quest that you go on a fishing boat which goes under all the bridges.” The houshi smiled. “It’s quite romantic, I’d say.”
