MEIKYUU TOSHI NO ANTIQUE SHOP// CHAPTER 19: ORNAMENTAL ROSY HAIR MAIDEN RING (1)

On one day, when Ms. Whole Body Armor went outside to clean the eaves of the store, there was a person crouching outside.
There was an Entrance Hall to the Dungeon right nearby the store, so it wasn’t abnormal to find passed out or injured adventurers outside or on the storefront.
But, this time, it didn’t seem like that sort of situation.

“Are you OK?”
“Yes. I think, my dizziness… is improved, a little bit.”
It was a lady, crouched with a parasol.
Anemone began to recognize her as she stood up and looked about slowly.

“Oh, oh, it’s Ms. Anemone… Long time no see.” (tl: let the aras begin)
“Hmm?”
“How do you do?”

The woman smiled and gave a curtsey, nodding.
She was an acquaintance of Anemone’s old days.
◆
While Fujiwara was wiping the store goods down with a cloth, humming, he heard the door’s bell chime.
Anemone, who had left to clean, had apparently returned.

“Store Manager, it’s a customer.”
With her trademark ‘gasha gasha’, Anemone entered. Behind her ringing armor was a girl.
They looked to be in the middle of their twenties, and somewhat modest. It was Fujiwara’s first time seeing her, and she was carrying a sunshade and a small basket.
They looked somewhat like a magician, but more importantly like a window-shopper, just curious of his wares.

“Hello,” Fujiwara greeted her with his hands clasped and a polite bow.
“Nice to meet you. My name is Deneb R. Fay.”
“I see.”
“My sister has been taken care of by you for a while. I’ve come to say thank you.”
“Oh?”

Her words left Fujiwara puzzled, with no idea her intention (tl: ?)
“She’s Linne’s older sister”, Anemone announced.
“Ooh, no worries, it was no problem.”

This was because Linne was a regular customer of the “Good Old Magician’s Shop”. She’s a fledgeling Seeker, who came to the store looking for a companion. After that, Fujiwara introduced her to Soarer, another customer. Apparently, her sister just came to say hello.
“I’m grateful for it, so…”

While Deneb said as much, she took her basket off of the counter and popped open its lid. The fragrant smell of an apple pie came out, which it removed from the backpack on a large plate.
◆
“You should thank Soarer for Linne’s sake as well.”
“Yes. That shy sister of mine going as far as to go into the dungeon, it’s only thanks to Soarer she’s even begun to talk.”
Deneb is the eldest daughter of the Morgan family who was slated to take care of Linne, the youngest. It was no surprise she was happy over her growth, almost to the extent of the excitement over one’s own child. (tl: Morgan le Fay?)

While listening to Deneb’s joyful voice  cross the room, Anemone went and prepared for tea and coffee. Two cups of coffee for her and Fujiwara, and one cup of tea.
Deneb began putting chamomile in her own drink, her stomach couldn’t handle Café Au Lait. While Fujiwara insisted she ought to drink the Coffee, they had a wide range of tea.

Of course, in exchange for the tea, they got apple pie.
It was cut with the sharp nice she had prepared, the dough burnt to a shiny gold. It wasn’t out of shape or crushed in any way, and after the careful carving was finished, the pieces were put on small plates.

“This looks really good.”
“This pie is indeed really good.”
“No need to exaggerate, now.”
Even while saying so, Deneb knew it was a decent cake.
Even though it was cooling down, served with some fresh cream and chocolate Anemone had heated up, the pie became so delicious that it was melting in her mouth. She decided to secretly snag leftovers.
“I’ll take one.”
Fujiwara clasped his hands as usual before snagging an apple pie with the tips of his fingers.
A smile came over his face while he devoured it quickly, chewing, before his mouth slowly stopped chewing, eventually stopping altogether, not even swallowing.
His expression was one that clearly signified being speechless.
“……”

“How was it, manager?” Anemone asked, seeing his reaction. He tilted his head and started at the small plate.
She wondered if there was any issue with the homemade pie. Her friend had made it for her many times before.

Deneb carried a piece from the plate to her mouth.
No objections to its cooking or chewiness. Casual vanilla fragrance, peculiar taste of cinnamon.

“…Mu.”

But, she noticed something oddly damp spreading in her mouth.
Suddenly she became dizzy, lowering her eyebrows, before her head became a deep blue. She threw away the rest of her slice with teary eyes.
“Please throw it away! Just in case, please throw it away!”
“…Mugu.”
Anemone swallowed hers with the help of the latte, her throat only hurting a little. No one had the courage to eat more.
The apple pie was nearly impeccable.
However, the most disappointing point, is that the ingredients weren’t just apples and sugar.
It was undeniably salt.

◆

Because there were still a few of the biscuits left, Anemone decided to take a few in exchange for the tea.
When she glanced up from her plate ever so often, she spotted Deneb sitting on the chair by the counter, completely unmoved.
“Maybe… I was conceited, and… Possibly I should have taste tested…”
It’s likely because Deneb was good at cooking that this failure crushed her more than usual. Anemone herself knew why she was depressed.
Deneb is a member of the Morgan family, who are descended from a famous Witch. The family, as a whole, is good at chores and cooking. It wasn’t boasting to say she had never committed this bad of a mistake.
Her muttering continued. “this’ll shame me until I’m marriageable… no, a lifetime… Umu…”

She exuded quite the scary, black aura.
It’d good to understand that in her family of ladies, they had a bad habit to overly self-examine themselves.
“…Uum…”
Anemone growled quietly in her helmet.
She wanted to cheer up the depressed lady, but she couldn’t figure out what to say and didn’t want to irritate her.
Someone tough like her was no good at this.
She turned her eyes to Fujiwara, hoping for help, but he was silently staring at her. When she looked down his line of sight and at his unusually serious face, she gave a silent nod.
“…”
‘I see’, Anemone thought.
Fujiwara’s reasoning was one no one else could apply. Rather than what he could be gawking at, she knew he was only earnestly interested in a good old-fashioned Granting Tool. ‘At times like these he’s quite dependable.’
“Mrs. Deneb.”
Fujiwara took action.
Anemone approached the lady with an ‘Excuse me’, and clasped her thin, white hand slowly.
Deneb was, naturally, perplexed.
“Yes, Mr. Fujiwara?”
“Pardon me, but,”
“Yes……?”
Her mouth twitched, and she was visibly confused, tilting her head.
“I’ve been interested in this since you entered the store, but it’s quite fascinating. Based on the degradation, it’s a middle aged one, old enough for the ‘Time of Superior Mages’.”
Deneb’s face turned troubled.

Anemone had noticed.
Fujiwara hadn’t noticed.
The cause of his serious look, rather than the depressed Deneb, it was the thing on her finger.
His curiosity was caused by an item he rarely saw.
“May I look at the ring?”

‘No, he’s not rude.
This should be expected of him, because he’s stupid.’
The man who can’t read the climate only had that to say, even with Deneb being troubled or depressed.
Anemone gently put the tray on the counter and prepared for the Appraisal.
◆

“First off…”
Fujiwara was wearing his monocle, looking at the ring.
Although it looked normal, along with its casting process, the material’s coloration was near skin color. On the outside was a lightly painted maiden and finely crafted rubies that looked matched her rosy hair. In it, ‘For the beauty that was so pretty I could not breathe’.
“…Hmm.”
At first glance, this looked like a Ring of Charm.

That’s the name of a granting tool that could give the wearer a beautiful appearance. The effect also worked for men, so the demand for such an item was extremely high in both genders, looking for marriage partners.
But, most of the time, the beauty only increased in simple ways.

“Uh…”
Fujiwara concentrated desperately with his ‘Spell of Remove Concealment’. The ring immediately reacted, eventually forming a pattern, almost like blue muscles on the surface of it. No doubt, this was a Magic Circuit.

“Indeed… This is definitely a Granting Tool.”
His intuition told him this wasn’t a ‘Ring of Charm’.
Many people misunderstood its effects in that it doesn’t truly increase beauty, it simply made those nearby feel more positive about the wearer, due to generating pheromone traces from the user.
But the smells from Deneb were only perfume, and there were no signs of any bodily changes, anyway. Therefore, Fujiwara felt it was another kind.

“Deneb, have you felt tired lately?”
“Oh… Yes, I’ve been dizzy until a while ago. Lately it’s been all the time… At my age, cough… I’m already getting tired from just standing…”
“I see.
“Is this a,” Deneb approached, seemingly embarrassed, and whispered “Ring of Charm”?
“I’ll appraise it a bit.”
Fujiwara answered with a pleasant smile.
She had been wearing this ring without appraising it.
This ‘Ring of Charm’ had been harming her, so most would think to take it to an appraiser, instead of wearing it around.

Fujiwara tied back his hair, and decided to begin appraisal right away

 

MEIKYUU TOSHI NO ANTIQUE SHOP// CHAPTER 18: UNADORNED STEEL RING (UNIDENTIFIED)

“Hmm, this seems to be an ‘Anti Sleep Ring’.
Fujiwara continued to study this ring with his eyeglass. It was brought in by a middle aged dwarf, one of his clients.

It was made of steel, and had a rustic elegance, though it was quite plain.
There were magic characters inside the ring that would have never been discovered if it had not fallen off of a sculpture in the Dungeon.
It is marked with “Thou Shalt Not Sleep”, inside.

“So, this is how he stopped sleep traps and magic, huh?”
“Yes. This is a fairly popular item. It can also be used for all-nighters, so they’re convenient. This one seems to be poor quality, though.”
“Is that so? Won’t be worth much to me, then.”
The dwarf said, apparently uninterested, kneading his lengthy beard.

The dwarf is a Seeker often called the “Grave Digger”, and not a particularly regular customer to the store, though he came by from time to time for appraisals.
His face was one you could remember easily, due to his dark, inset eyes and, and one could infer from his speaking that he was likely an insomniac.
While Appraisals were being done, Fujiwara tended to bring out rum and milk instead of coffee for him.
Fujiwara stared at the ring for a while longer.
He had noticed that, from the way this surface was made, it was done carefully with a hammer. It didn’t seem to be made via mass production and this steel was one that was particularly hard to use, but made the result last a very long time.
This was a craftsman’s hard work.
‘It may not be an ordinary ring after all’. Somehow, Fujiwara felt as if his master was telling him so, but he couldn’t quite place it.
◆

“Dead, dead, and more dead.”
The Middle-aged Dwarf ‘grave digger’ was making noise, kicking skulls about angrily with his shoes.
“…Ugh.”
He had finished off the fifth floor today.
The fifth floor of the Dungeon. It’s usually called “Public Cemetery”.
In this floor the air is musty, the floor is hard and moldy, and there are gravestones lying everywhere, piercing the ground.
-According to one theory, those who have unfortunately lost their lives in the Dungeon are quietly whisked away and buried here. Since it is so large, it’s unlikely to find your friend’s departed, even if you search hard.
The coffin underneath the headstone sometimes contains mementos like gold coins and the dearly departed’s belongings instead of bodies, and it was thus considered immoral to try to gain items from these poor Seekers.
It is worth noting that the dwarf’s “Grave Digging” is always to find out who was buried where, not to earn coin.

“…Onya?”
While returning the scattered bones into the coffin, the Dwarf heard stopped. He thought he heard someone screaming.
He rushed in the direction he heard the voice, finding a girl holding a shortsword. They were apparently guarding the other girl, standing behind them. The opponents were three skeletons and one ghoul. A situation of numerical superiority.
“Here, skeletons! You retards, look at me!”
“Grave Digger” ran in shouting, trying to gain the attention of the monster.
The first to respond was a skeleton.
It wasn’t hard to guess why the dwarf was in this floor. It was to hunt these undead monsters.
He was earnest in his fight against both the skeleton and the ghoul, and the other party watched as the skeleton began to be torn limb from limb. His axe fell upon it, first the feet were lopped off, and next ribs shattered, arms chopped, and the skull split in two. After this, the heart was quickly gouged out, spine broken, and finally the Skeleton was beheaded, in a matter of seconds. This was the “Grave Digger’s” life work.
◆
A few years prior, “Grave Digger” his comrades to this floor.
It was because of “Pandemonium”. On “Public Cemetery”, those that die instantly become monsters, adding to the enemy forces and then proceeding to help tear down their allies. In this exponential manner, the forces of the skeletons and ghouls grew.
On that day, his party had stumbled upon the remains of another party, quickly becoming overwhelmed. To make matters worse, it was on the day of the great flood of monsters, whom overwhelmed every single floor and entrapped Labyrinth City in fear and depression.
That was how he had become the “Grave Digger”
Skeletons appeared, almost like a mirage. From eight directions, vengeful ghosts, skeletons, ghouls, fire wisps, and other fearful undead surrounded his party at the same time. Within moments, they were unable to escape.
By this time, he was terrified.
He put on a good show, acting natural and pretending to be a great soldier or hero, but as a vanguard meant to be the party’s shield and sword, he fled.
By the time he looked back he realized that no one else was following him.
It took him so long to notice, due to him fully devoting himself to fleeing, that he was nearly at the surface. This was why he cleared the fifth floor, as compensation for his one big mistake.
“Do, seiiii!”
The “Grave Digger” targeted the other skeleton, repeating his artful dissemblance of its body, before finally asking,
“Girls… Are you well?”
“Yes!”
“I’m… okay.”
The reply came from the two girls battling the final skeleton. Upon ensuring they had no major injuries they were over-looking, all three of them turned and looked to the remaining enemy.
Undead monsters were particularly fickle, not hard to distract. The “Grave Digger” went for his new target. He was walking slowly, because if you carelessly approach any undead, you’d be in for trouble.
Ghouls were particularly slow, but they tended to go to try to fracture your arms. If you get grappled, there’s a risk of breaking your backbone. (Redead?)
Skeletons, however, were light and could jump long distances, moving quickly. While it had no muscle, it was like a spring loaded toy. Attacks launched from insane distances could do plenty of damage through the use of momentum.

All that remained from the skeletons was piles of mush and one whole body, lying there. This was no small number to encounter in the “Public Cemetery”, but it was insignificant compared to what he had faced on that fateful day.
◆
Every day, “Grave Digger” felt the hell within that regret, from running away at the time.
This sense of regret, even if he drowned himself in liquor, would not pass. The friends he’d drink with were gone. Even if he tried to sleep, all that he could think of was the image of his friends trapped in the middle of a horde of undead.
Some days he couldn’t even muster up the will to move. But, those he did, he returned to the “Public Cemetery”. He’d pierce undead monster after undead monster that fled from their graves. The “Pandemonium” had already been dealt with by others, but he felt some comfort fighting the undead here. He rarely even returned to the surface.
“Miss, wait here for a moment.”
“Yes!”
“I’ll do my best.”
The “Grave Digger” aimed for the teeth of the ghoul that was clambering after him. After dealing it a big blow, he aimed for the newly arrived skeleton to its left, and shook his shield at it.
“You’re next, huh?”

The “Grave Digger” pulled his hatchet out of the ghoul’s cranium, and moved to target the skeleton, when he noticed something growing from its right chest.
“……What’s this?”
It was the same pattern as the skeleton the girls dispatched of. It seems they marked it for dead all too soon. However, it had firm grasp of one of the mush skeleton’s daggers, and while the “Grave Digger” could not pull out his axe, it struck. It struck fatally, slashing him across the chest. His throat was now welling with blood, and he had a hard time breathing.
“Uoooooooa!”
The “Grave Digger” used the butt of his axe while roaring, still stuck in the Ghoul, to slam into the Skeleton’s skull, practically turning it into dust.
It reunites with the three bodies on the ground.
He didn’t really consider his life valuable.
If he died saving these two girls, then it’s worth it.
The people at the tavern seemed to think the “Grave Digger” was angry, angry enough to slaughter undead on the fifth floor every day, for revenge or memorial.

But, that’s not right. The situation is different.
The “Grave Digger”, the sleepless one that not even ale could save, was merely waiting to die in the same way of his comrades. He fought here for that purpose alone, obsessed with the undead because of it.
In truth, it was his atonement, and in confession, it was a passive, meaningless suicide.

But, he wasn’t ‘dead’ yet.
◆
“Somehow, this ring seems too powerful compared to most.”
Fujiwara sighed deeply, adding this on after his appraisal.

“Normally, ‘Anti Sleep Rings’ only deny or help you ignore exhaustion. This one, however, seems to outright take the sleepiness away.”
“I’m a total amateur to this stuff, but what’s the difference?”
The dwarf so named “Grave Digger” asked while stroking his long beard, before Fujiwara elaborated.
“If it remains on your body, it will stop your need to sleep completely, and you will never lose consciousness. Which, is probably why I felt something was off.”
“What if someone hits you over the head?”
“Yes, you will remain conscious.”
“Hmm.”
“Moreover, the exchange is ‘The pain and suffering required to live in this world’, something often beneficial to trade away.”
It is always necessary to pay a price while using a Granting Tool, generally the magic of the blood or hair of the user him or herself, but cases like this are relatively rare.
“In other words, you entirely trade away your sense of pain to equip this ring. Sickness, injury, so forth wouldn’t even make you feel a twinge.”
The exchange is a massive one, but it’d eliminate the feeling of things like hunger, sleepiness, and pain, so forth.
“It is rather convenient…”
The customer looked at the ring with interest for the first time.
“I would think, but when you can’t… feel pain or anguish, you can’t notice when your body is failing you. A person who gets tired, doesn’t know when to heal themselves, while using this ring I could get weakened and die too soon for it to pay itself off.”
“……”
Pain may be a negative feeling given in exchange, one that feels useless, but that feeling is necessary. Everything it does is in order to get in touch with your living body. If you lose it, your mind and body would be injured beyond repair before long.
As Fujiwara’s master says, “If a Granting Tool is strong, the curse is equally so.” Manufacturers with a grudge or users tampering with the items lead to the circuit being modified, cursed ones give Giving Tools strong effects, but those effects will be warped.
This ring’s excessively deviant ability, despite being called an ‘Anti Sleep Ring’, was enough to classify it as a Cursed Tool.
Fujiwara remembered with a chilly mood the stamp he had seen just before finishing his appraisal, a clown’s face. He had a hunch he knew who placed it, before it dawned on him.
The manufacturer of the ring was “The Mad Clown”, John de Godard. (tl: Jon dou Godaru)
A person eager to use his immense talent only to make his recipients unfortunate.
The things he created were often amazing yet never beneficial, fit to only be called ‘pranks’.
While the benefits would drive the user mad, the losses would get them killed or make them a laughingstock.
There really wasn’t a single person happy to find his work, barring some specific collectors.

“If I may impose, I suggest selling or trashing it, and as soon as possible.”
“I see. I’ll follow your warning.”
He took the ring from the counter, and the baggy-eyed dwarf patiently nodded.
◆
“Uncle Dwarf!”
The skeleton’s bodies were already sinking under the ground, and the two girls ran up. They seemed safe enough.
“Are you okay?”
“Are you two misses alright?”
“We have no major issues.”
“The cut… Does it hurt?”
Behind the short sword girl, a girl that was clearly a magician with freckles asked, clearly afraid. It seemed that she had seen where the dagger struck him.

“Uuuh… Yeah…”
In the heat of battle, “Grave Digger” had completely forgotten his injury. He looked his body over once more, but the injury on his chest wasn’t as bad as he thought. The stretched and bent, and once his exercise was done, he didn’t seem to have any major issues.
“There’s probably no huge issue.”
“That’s good. It’s because I… saw it struck rather deep…”
“Take this. It’s good, please drink it.”
“Shit. You’re questioning the toughness of a dwarf in merely this circumstance. A lick of a wound like this doesn’t need anything to heal.”
The girls were clearly relieved, and a bit embarrassed.
“Are you two the daughters of seekers?”
“Yes. Though, I think we stretched ourselves out a bit too far…”
“More training… is needed…”
“That’d probably be good. You can try again, but be more careful.”
They invited him to join him, but he declined, saying he had business to attend to.
◆
After seeing the girls off, he returned to wandering the “Public Cemetery”.

He wondered when he’d next go to the surface and drink liquor.
Finally, after so long, the distant days past were far enough from his mind that he could have a meal in peace.
“…”

“Grave Digger” placed his hand on his chest.
He was trying to make sure it was still beating, unable to feel anything. The skin under his garments was covered in blood, muddy, and cold. Like clay, it had no tension.
However, his breathing was steady, and no matter how much time passed,
“…Hm.”
He looked down, confirming the dull colors of his skin.
The ring was far more powerful than the shopkeeper thought.

Due to trading away the “Suffering and pain required to live in this world”, he barely felt pain, fatigue, or even hungry. No matter how much blood he lost, or even if he stopped breathing, his heart kept beating. He stayed conscious.
He was aware of the fact that he had truly died long, long ago.
But, his flesh would no longer sleep, and even his soul remained steady, to his surprise. Imperceptibly, the undead hunter had become an undead, one that drank in the tavern and walked about in town.
“What should I do now…”
“Grave Digger” muttered to himself quietly.
He didn’t need to continue to fight here anymore, truly.
However, he hesitated to go back to the surface.
If they discovered he was undead, he’d either receive a forced purification from the guys at the temple as an ‘evil being’, or he’d be used as a test subject from those guys at the academy.

He thought this while walking, before seeing a familiar sight.
It was the staircase to the sixth floor, he had seen many times.
“…Haaa,”

What would be the point, when he had died in the fifth.
When he made encampment here, he had company, and he was so excited making plans to reach the tenth that he forgot food, liquor, map, and sleep, so bad they had to go back to town and try again.

“Sure. I’m interested, I’ll go.”, he thought he heard a familiar voice, one from his group.
“I’m in. Make room.”
“Surely something interesting waits.”
“Wait, why aren’t you all hesitating?” another of his party asked incredulously.
“…Oh, that, because it’ll be fun.”
His heart was now decided, even if these were auditory hallucinations, surely they meant something.
The “Grave Digger” walked toward the staircase cheerfully.

‘I don’t die anymore, ha,’
No matter if he would be in his own personal hell as he reached this ‘heaven’ at the end of the dungeon, he might as well go and sightsee a bit.
◆
Discrimination Certificate “Anti-Sleep Ring” (Cursed!)

“The world offers to deprive from you slumber eternally, thou melancholic and the pained, and in exchange it shall take your pain and suffering required to live in this world like a sea’s ripples fading into the night.”
“Anti-Sleep Rings” are extremely simple to use and beneficial.
Goblin Shamans and sleeping gas can’t put you to sleep, since the ring prevents it. In the Dungeon, even a moment of sleep or exhaustion can be fatal, so this tool gives you some room to maneuver.
Unfortunately, this ring is better to avoid. To describe it simply, this magic circuit is cursed to the extent where the malice is evident- “Pain and suffering required to live in this world” as compensation will give you nothing but hardships.
If you use this only once, sleep is not necessary, hunger is not any risk, and pain is negligible. You could work vigorously, unfeeling. However, the result is that you would look like the living dead, walking aimlessly in your dreamlike state of non-danger. You may or may not even notice you actually dying.
At the risk of this falling into the wrong hands, it is highly suggested you dedicate it to the temple or hide it very deep in the Dungeon.

MEIKYUU TOSHI NO ANTIQUE SHOP// CHAPTER 17: A CASUAL FUR KEYCHAIN (3)

“Keep the change. Never say I dine and dash.”
Miss “Footsteps of Death” put one gold coin on the counter so that Fujiwara could inspect it and store it away. For reference, a gold coin is exactly a thousand Gerun, so there were no coppers for change. It was pointless to point this out however, so Fujiwara didn’t bother.
“I don’t care anymore. I’m going home.”
She made to go toward the exit of the store, stamping her feet.
Fujiwara was feeling quite refreshed from this, but he still wasn’t quite done yet.
He needed to find a way to take out a harassment charge or something of the like.

“Dear customer. I do hope you pay the rest of the payment before you leave.”
“What? I just paid!”
“Yes, you paid for the biscuits.
“And yet there’s something else?”
“Previously, you received a detoxification charge due to the allowance used to cure the poison, the poison appraisal costs, and the Poison Resistance amulet still hasn’t been paid for.”
“But…”
“It become a total of, well … a hundred thousand Gerun.”
“Hundred, huh… Hundred thousand!?”

Raising her voice, Miss “Footsteps of Death” toppled right over, falling grandly as though she had tripped outright.
I’m sorry, but this is a respectable job, was how Fujiwara justified himself.
“By the way, that’s the base price, with no inflation.”

The antidotes take up most of the expense. That deadly poison required a High Quality elixir to leave no after effect, which costs eighty five thousand Gerun. The rest of the drugs he needed total to twelve thousand Gerun, and the usage fee of the Amulet was three thousand. The rest would be for his injuries due to her flinging that blade around, of course.
Since she had used such expensive objects from the store, Fujiwara did have to charge her. If he didn’t, he’d be roared at by his Master.

“It’s… I only just found out… Because you treated me, I’ll pay.”
The Miss seemed mortified, saying as much.
Fujiwara was relieved she understood. He expected for her to run wild and kill her, since she had more than enough ability and the right personality for it.
“But, please wait. I don’t have these sorts of funds you’ve addressed to me in the price, so it would be useless to charge me now. Why don’t I leave a bill I can pay at a later date?”
“…Hmm.”
This reaction was a bit unexpected for Fujiwara.
Miss “Footsteps of Death” was clearly on a level where she was not handicapped by money based on their past interactions.
This could also be told from the quality of her body armor, sword, and underwear. He avoided looking at the latest, but all three were first rate items with intricate designs, for aristocrats and nobility to use. It would seem she was a high-ranking official of some kind from outside Labyrinth City, and he read that to be the reason for hiding her identity.
Though, he wasn’t particularly disappointed over the money. Even if she was the sort to have that much on hand, he didn’t plan on it being paid in cash.
He thought about dropping the charge. Then, Fujiwara let loose some pre-prepared words.
“It’s no issue. Since dear Customer is a Seeker, shouldn’t payment be made from items collected in the Dungeon?”
“I am indeed a See-“
“For example, that item you have there, perhaps?”
Fujiwara pointed to the large keychain hanging low from the large sword Miss “Footsteps of Death” was holding. He had kept his eye on it from the moment he carried her into the store. From the way she treated it he knew she only was using it as a decoration, not knowing its value.

It was undoubtedly a Full Moon Rabbit’s hind leg. From the hair gloss and color characteristics, Fujiwara was nearly certain. The animals became extinct in the “Era of Supreme Magicians”, as it was a popular material for Magic Tools to be made out of.
“This little trinket’s useless. It’s just a little thing I liked on the eleventh floor.”
“It’s likely a Granting Tool. Some Granting Tools sell for more than a hundred thousand Gerun.”
“A hundred thousand… How much is that in sheets of biscuits?”
“I don’t have any clue what you mean by that, but five thousand of them.”
She asked so with a furious face, and Fujiwara responded with simple arithmetic.
“So much… I’m glad I brought it.”
“Thank you very much.”
She seemed to be convinced.

Fujiwara received the cute keychain with great care, and they decided to get the appraisal done immediately.
◆
“It’s like so. Are you sure you want to exchange it for fifty five thousand Gerun of your debt?”
The results of the Appraisal were that the trinket was a “Rabbit’s Foot”, Off The Mark.
It was a Granting Tool which could call some fortune in exchange for magic.
However, the “Good Luck” was not necessarily in a way easily visible. Some examples, “Your foot stuck in mud comes out with no difficulty”, or “Your precision with a bow gets a little better”, or “You aren’t very hungry even though you should be”, and so forth. It isn’t quite as useful as one thinks, so it wasn’t a huge boon for a Seeker.

However, this item had quite a lot of demand, other than Seekers. “Rabbit’s Foot” brings good luck over a long period of time, so it was greatly desired by Merchants and your everyday villager. Because of how easy it was to make, though, it was the most common scam item, but real ones were rare.
While considering that, he remembered the Goodwife’s plight. Because of their passive aide, it was considered a good item to help with safe deliveries, or as a prayer for safety of the baby and mother.
‘Right, I’ll deliver it later’
“But, it wasn’t worth a hundred thousand.”
“Unfortunately, it wasn’t that high quality. Just harvesting the Dungeon can lead to getting those easily enough.
“I never knew… No wonder Seekers have so much moneys, these item prices…”
“Why have you been so short on cash?”
“It’s dishonorable to loot the fallen.”

“But, then, the items will never be recovered.”
“But… Argh… I should have picked them up, one after another, if this was the situation.”
Seekers that couldn’t recover Drop Items were unusual. In the past, however, many parties would go deep for the thrill and honor, such as that “Capture Set” expedition, but she didn’t seem to be that sort after all.
◆
“Guu… But, I don’t have the other forty-five thousand…”
“Miss Footsteps of Death” was having a staring contest with her bag of coin.
‘It seems that she’s in dire straits, after all. Getting the money will be hard.’
Fujiwara wondered if she knew the clasp on her valuable Wyvern bag was made of pure gold, but decided against pointing it out. He wondered if she had run from a Seeker’s household, or if she was the daughter of a ruined noble household, or so forth.
Now, he was uncertain.

“Then, we’re fine for now. You can pay it later.”
“……What, for real?”
“Yes. However, there’s a condition.”
“What is it?”
She suddenly eyed Fujiwara with a suspicious glare, as if looking at a con artist, or something worse. From this alone Fujiwara considered retiring. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sincerely just doing my job.’
“In the future, you must bring all drop items from the Dungeon here for appraisal, and then anything valuable can be used for repayment.”
“…Mu. Is this really okay?”
“Yes. But, I’ll have to balance the charge of appraisal with the cost.”
Most appraisers charge for their services, so it wasn’t anything shady. It’s a rare skill, for the appraisal to be done as well as Master or Fujiwara did.

“You have a period of two months to get that done.”
“Can I do it that fast?”
“Yes. A customer who can pass through the tenth floor alone, so skillful, could likely do it easily.”
“Fine, I agree.”

Even if Fujiwara got her consent, it could be rescinded like smoke.
Fujiwara recorded down the contract and presented it.

“Okay, here you go.”
“…Thank you very much.”
Fujiwara checked the parchment and nodded.

Truthfully, the contract was insignificant. He didn’t know who she was or where to send the militia after her, after all. Truly, it was miniscule.
However, Fujiwara knew she was too prideful to break her oath. Her willingness to do this gave him some security. Her character and strength were too strong for scamming.
He now looked at her signature.

As such, there was the name Anemone L. Amberlite there. No doubt, she was indeed Nobility, because her middle initial was there as well, and only Nobles maintained their baptismal name. He wondered if she was famous.
◆
“Well, this is pointless now.”
Miss “Footsteps of Death” began to don her armor, even saying so. Most people would need a servant or friend to help put it on, but she covered the gaps one after another with familiar hand movements.

After a while she paused, seemingly thinking, before speaking aloud.
“It’s a good feeling for someone to know my name. It’s different, but it’s good to exchange names.”
“Well, my name’s Fujiwara.”
“What an odd name. I’ll remember it, though.”
Finally, she donned her helmet. With this, she went from the girl who happily chews biscuits in her underwear, to the hefty Seeker “Footsteps of Death”.
Although he didn’t know how she grew up, it was no joke to wear that large of armor as the daughter of a noble. Fujiwara was unsure how much of it was “Divine Protection” and how much of it was willpower.

With this, she made her way out of the store with a ‘Gashin, gashin’, but before the exited, she turned to ask
“By the way, where do I purchase those biscuits?”
“Did you like them?”
“…They weren’t unpalatable.”
“Do you know ‘Underground Tavern That Looks Up at the Sun’?” (tl: I’m going to try to write this consistently now… Alternative tl: ‘Respectful Mole’s Sun’. Yeah, this name’s a huge pain…)
When the Miss heard that, she made an annoyed face and clicked her tongue.        “You mean that haunt for commoners?”
‘How cruel’. Fujiwara wondered if she knew that the primary rumor was what her appearance was, and then considered it again and realized her making an appearance would be bad.
“On second thought, you should come by for tea and biscuits.”
“Okay.” The Miss swung her helmet back down.
Compared to the cost of those, the amount she was paying back for the medicine was much higher. Claiming the full cost would be a hard sell.
Therefore, Fujiwara decided that this degree of service would be okay if her feelings softened a bit, no matter how cheap the patronage was.

Hearing the sound of the door, he waited awhile before bowing his head low.
“Feel free to visit. I look forward to next seeing you.”
◆
From then, Miss “Footsteps of Death”, Anemone, was a patron of the store. She’d come to eat biscuits and Café au Lait and exchange high quantity of items.
Occasionally, she’d come back against her will due to poor condition or injury, and they’d have to decide the treatment method.

“This isn’t going to be free.”
“So noisy, cure the bruise quickly.”
“If I say so, you should be quiet.”
“You need an intervention on the number of biscuits you eat.”
“Ah, which loot do you want to buy, or all?”

And that was how a lonely Full Body Armor and Fujiwara began their chats.

◆
Appraisal Certificate “Rabbit’s Foot (Off the Mark)”
“Thou faithless gambler, offer up five hundred and twenty drops- and, until the world is exhausted, it will carry and turn you, surrounding you and giving to you, like a wheel of Baden-Baden” (tl: Author decided to name the god of luck after a small German town…)
You attach it by fastening the Rabbit’s Foot to you in some way with the chain. Extremely easy to carry like this. This amulet is a type of charm, and it is favored by street vendors, even if this Granting Tool is rare.
As most should know, Rabbits were hunted frequently in the old days, by many things.
Without their alertness and speed in fleeing, rabbits would have long ago died off. As well, baby rabbits are born with their eyes already open, alert. As such, it was considered that their reproductive abilities and wariness were divine favors, that such endangered animals could be so prolific. The hind legs of the rabbit were said to happily kick in the womb, which is the origin of the charm, for the health of newborns and general good luck. This is just ancient suspicion, but The Superior Magicians ensured this became real.
It’s difficult to verify its effectiveness, because luck is something abstract and think. However, every time it is used, magic from your body will be used up. If the consumption is there, it is being exchanged for something as collateral. It can aide with precision, it makes itself hard to steal, and it makes you less hungry- various tiny aides that happen passively, ones you won’t even notice.

But, to put it into perspective, if you’re forced into the corner while in the Dungeon, it might just make it your lucky day.

MEIKYUU TOSHI NO ANTIQUE SHOP// CHAPTER 16: A CASUAL FUR KEYCHAIN (2)

A meal was offered to the unexpected visitor.

“Mmm~♪”
Miss “Footsteps of Death” was eating out of the packed biscuits, served at the back patio sofa. She raised a happy hum.

Fujiwara wanted to eat some too, but he figured she was still hungry. She was eating even the crumbs. Now, though, he was forced to attempt to keep his eyes unfocused, since the Miss had taken off her full body armor, now in her underwear.
“Would you like a second helping?”
Fujiwara raised a quiet voice, noticing the tea cup in front of her was emptied.

“Uh-huh.”
“Just a moment.”
Fujiwara retrieved the cup that was proffered, and poured into it coffee from the large thermos, and added the flavors he brought out for the guests. The primary one was goat milk, though it is quite difficult to drink on its own. However, due to its flavor and smell, it is good for Café Au Lait, giving the bitter coffee a buttery taste.
For Fujiwara it was blasphemy to add anything to this glorious, bitter coffee, but people whine ‘It’s too bitter, you can’t drink it’, so it couldn’t be helped.

“There. Please be careful, it’s still slightly hot.”
“Yes,”
Miss “Footsteps of Death” carefully sipped the coffee from the teacup, while chewing. He moved to take the bag, thinking she was satisfied, but this made her visibly angry with wide eyes, so he thought better of it. She promptly began eating more biscuits, before she let out a “…Fu,” clearly still not satisfied. Apparently, the full paper bag had run nearly empty. He scrambled to think of snacks he could make, though there was probably only (burnt) bacon and eggs.

“By the way… Is your injury really alright?”
“Hmm? Oh, uh, yes it’s all… right, mm.

It seemed as though she forgot it.
Fujiwara finally focused on the injury itself. On her pottery-like, pristine white skin was the strange-to-see purple discoloration, swollen. It was pitiful seeing it in this state. At first he had thought it was broken, but no matter how many times he pointed it out, she seemed to forget immediately after.
“I… Had to fight a Hungry Tiger while tired… and exchange this injury… for the stupid thing’s life”
“Wouldn’t it be better to treat it immediately?”
“I, mm… decline.”
“…”

Fujiwara let out a sigh.
He could guess why.
She was still hiding her roots. When going for treatment, they’d remove her full body armor. When they noticed that she was a top notch beauty with a naturally pretty face, rumors would spread and they’d look into her background.

“Nom… need to go… mm,”
“What do you mean?”
“I, uh… My hunger is satisfied, nothing scares me now.”
Miss “Footsteps of Death” explained in a way Fujiwara didn’t quite understand, laughing dauntlessly as she ate another fragment of a biscuit.

Then, Fujiwara saw the reason.

Although there was no small amount, one couldn’t see Magical Power unless they focused hard, and this young lady’s body was overflowing with absurdly high amounts of magic power. This sort of phenomenon is associated with powerful mana. In the situation where blood magic needed to be converted into magic and was consumed, if too much was let out, an overflow state could be obtained.

But, she was just eating, so Fujiwara wondered what on earth could have triggered the magic. He had seen no gestures or other triggers to cause it.

“… Are you possibly a ‘Divine Protection’ mage?”
“Yes, sort of.”
Sometimes called “Divine Protection”, some people were born with magic circuits within their body. As easy as they breathe, they can use specific magic. Of course, it still consumed their blood magic, but they didn’t need any incantation or trigger. Such a person wasn’t valuable in the time of magic, but in the Dark Ages or even into this later period, there have been people who have won wars and repainted history with this ability, too. They were often subjects of worship as ‘Living Gods’ in ancient times, but the history of this ‘Divine Protection’ ends there, as they get less attention.

“Ah, I see.”
Miss “Footsteps of Death” tendered her left arm. The injury was being healed with a scary pace. The purplish, now red, discoloration was being thinned out, and the damage was healed past the extent even a prayer from the temple could heal it.
“…”
Fujiwara finally remembered to breathe.
He understood why she was so strong. She had extremely strong magic circuits, which gave great resilience, healing, and reinforcement to her body.
When using this much magic power however, one must consume a great deal. When hungry, you’d be unable to use that magic anymore, so she couldn’t handle her armor.
“But, such a valuable thing, must it be hidden?”

Hiding such a strong “Divine Protection” is no small deal. You would get special treatment at the guild, a lot of privileges, and free work at the church.
There was no real disadvantage to allow this Divine Protection to be known. This was the same as being marked as nobility (tl: loose tl, confusing paragraph)

“Only you may know. This is a matter of fact, don’t speak about this again.”
“Yes, but,”
“You know that I told you not to tell others. You don’t need to know why.”
“I understand.”

Fujiwara had no plans on divulging her identity. The privacy of the customer is paramount.
Nothing could be gained if the customer didn’t trust you.
“…By the way, how’s the stomach?”
“Uhm, it’s full.”
“Are you satisfied? Would you like anything more?”
“I’ve had enough. It was almost too much.”
“I see, if you want more, it’s available.” While saying so, Fujiwara placed the bill on the counter in a natural movement.

“…Huh?”
Miss “Footsteps of Death” looked at the bill in confusion.

“I think it’s about time for pay. Fifty biscuits rings up to about a thousand Gerun.”
Fujiwara responded with a dazzling smile.

Of course, trusting you isn’t the main tenant of sales. Fujiwara worked in the service sector, and the top policy was ‘sales’. The reason why Fujiwara was so devoted to serving her food, gave her three refills, and even fifty biscuits, why was it?
“Huh?”
Yup. Miss Footsteps of Death made a puzzled face, unsure what to do.
◆
There’s no such thing as an unfair charge.
Obviously, those biscuits were goods to be sold. It was natural to demand money for them. Even if the customer is unaware of the gold bill, Master had a saying that, above all, “My home isn’t a charity case”, was how Fujiwara justified it.
It was totally unrelated to being threatened by letter, nearly getting killed after treating her poison and giving her free goods. It wasn’t him being spiteful over such trivial things, no, not holding a grudge. Definitely not revenge, was how he justified himself.

It was Fujiwara’s turn to be haughty.
Miss “Footsteps of Death” had turned rigid like a stone statue.
“Well. This certainly is a shop, and those biscuits are goods I ate. Therefore, the charge is OK.

“Thank you.”
‘Okay, that promise occurred’, Fujiwara was relieved.

“But, isn’t twenty Gerun a biscuit profit a bit too excessive?
“What are you saying? A customer was nearly dead out there just now. If you weren’t found, you would have starved to death, what a fearful thing. These biscuits encouraged you on. I think twenty Gerun profit is cheap as it is.”
“But, but,”
“Hey, if you won’t pay, I’ll call the militia police.”
“You’re threatening me?”
“If you can’t pay, that’s dine and dash.”
Miss “Footsteps of Death” promptly made a deep curtsey, trying to pass Fujiwara out the entranceway to leave the store. Of course, he blocked her.
“I never said that… I wouldn’t pay, I’m just saying that price is just too high…”
She lost composure, uttering a cry.
It’s mostly as she said. At the tavern-coffee-shop with the extremely long name, a biscuit was five Gerun. Even one alone was many times higher than an ordinary shop’s biscuits. For reference, one thousand Gerun was considered the amount of eating at a fancy restaurant, eating and drinking for a large group.
Fujiwara made a gesture to stop and calm down, proposing suddenly “I see. Why don’t I discount them to one Gerun for the full fifty”, after thinking for a while.
“Hold on. Why did you give this discount so suddenly?”
Fujiwara drew out his dusty business smile that he hadn’t used in years, smiling and smiling.
“Don’t you get it?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“It’s meant to call your life worthless, a worthless frame that wouldn’t even be picked up off the roadside.”
“U, Ununununu… I’ll pay! Be nice, I’ll pay, I’ll pay a thousand Gerun! You sly glasses!”
So proud, this reaction was better than Fujiwara had hoped, but with this, the sale of the biscuits was completed.
“Thank you very much.”
Fujiwara dipped his head deeply, almost far enough for his glasses to fall off.

He remembered his master’s words in a case prior. “Seriously, I really found a vengeful, vengeful ghost, just because they were a little mean…”, though he felt those were groundless charges.

MEIKYUU TOSHI NO ANTIQUE SHOP// CHAPTER 15: A CASUAL FUR KEYCHAIN (1)

Back from haitus! A little delayed because I was exhausted and lazy, but here’s a chapter for the day. Start of a 3 parter and it marks the 15th chapter! Nice number. This chapter was painfully long, though not the longest character wise, due to the amount of dialogue. Also, due to my focus on not mincing words, this turned out to be the longest English tl’d chapter, I think.

---

“The Footsteps of Death”, in fact Anemone, was impatient.

She was on the seventh floor of the Dungeon, which is often called ‘Closet’.
The floor consists of long aisles and countless doors on either side, which lead to countless more doors. In front of her there is a cul-de-sac passage, six doors to her left and six to her right. When totaled, it’s twelve doors.

“Shit… Doors again?”

Every door leads to a respective closet, which could have valuable items, or monsters and traps.
She had even come across a living space, with a useable restroom, closet, and a kitchen- reminiscent of the rumor ‘A survivor of the Era of Superior Magicians is retired, living on the seventh floor’. She wondered if it was true, after all.

“Door, door, door… It’s making me sick!”

Until one opens the door, no one knows what’s behind it. She didn’t have time to play around with monsters and traps.
Furthermore, the act of opening doors over and over could drive you mad, but in the myriad sum of all of the doors only one contained a small room that let you back back up, out of the Dungeon Floor 7.

“No time to be lost… I only have half a day left!”

Time was Anemone’s greatest enemy.
Somewhere in this floor, she had dropped her knapsack without noticing, during the continuous fighting. All of her mobile food was packed in it.

A day had passed, and Anemone had not eaten anything. Ordinary people could go for a few days without eating if they had water, but Anemone’s constitution would not allow it. Her body was already heavy.

An injury she gained on her left arm a while ago wasn’t healing satisfactorily either.
By the second half of her second day with no food, the “Hero” ability would be fully nullified. Ability Reinforcement, Spirit Stability, Element Tolerance, and so forth would be undone fully. Soon, Anemone wouldn’t be able to fight monsters, or even endure the weight of her all-important armor.
A large sword was swung –and a door crumbled, Anemone checking room after room in this manner. It was a crude way of doing it, but she did not want to waste the time she’d take, opening the doors.
“I’m such an idiot. A little bit of carelessness, and I’m in this much trouble.”
Anemone considers progressing in the Dungeon easy.
The monsters she could encounter couldn’t match her. Usually, she could swing her sword once or twice or use strange magic to deal with them. In the case she was injured, without giving two shits, she’d be healed within a few hours. She could reach the tenth floor independently, why would she worry about the seventh floor?
But, then she made the blunder of losing her food. Her goal to reach the fifteenth floor had been completely demolished, the requirements unfulfilled now, with a risk of starvation killing her pitifully on only the seventh floor.
Though she had gotten into a bit of a bind on the tenth floor, it had been awhile since then. She had carelessly fell into a poisonous trap, and the poison got trapped within her full body armor, with her coughing blood while walking for half a day in total.
Anemone also didn’t know if or when she’d find a fellow Seeker, or if there was one watching her even now. She therefore couldn’t take her helmet off and pat down her sweat, even.

Anemone was set on hiding her identity from the residents of Labyrinth City. Once it was known, it would likely be impossible to step into the Dungeon; even her pleas to leave the city would be denied on the spot.

She had to fulfill her long-cherished wish. She was so dedicated that she would throw away her life rather than fail due to losing her resolve.
“…”

Anemone remembered a youth she had met recently.
He was the sole witness of her form, and a target. How4ever, she wasn’t able to kill him, or rather he had saved her life.
An apology alone for the attempts wouldn’t be enough to express her gratitude.
“But all I left behind at the time was a threat…” Anemone thought, her actions guided by her helplessness as for what to do. She had erred on the side of her normal reactions.

“Can’t, can’t. Have to concentrate.”

Thinking about such things would not serve Anemone well, her concentration power was running headfirst into the ground.
She just had to find the stairs, getting to the surface after that would be simple. Then, she could eat.

◆

On the same day, Fujiwara was leaving “The Good Old Magician’s Shop”, in the morning. He wanted to replenish various household goods.
When he finished his wholesale purchasing at the Market, he went to his favorite Tavern, of course. It’s a pub from dusk to dawn, but at noon it’s also secretly a Coffee Shop. He wanted to buy coffee and snacks, which were his favorite tie-over for the day.

“Welcome, mister Thrift Shop.”
The Goodwife, wearing her eye patch, was cleaning an ale mug and welcomed him as he passed through the door.

Fujiwara tilted his head, confused. Usually, there would be trinity of jovial old women, not the Goodwife.
“What’s happened, here?”
“My Niece is pregnant. The Granny party is in full force, and I have to tend the counter.”
Fujiwara understood, home circumstances.
Normally, since she worked the whole night through, she’d be sleeping at this hour. It was clear she was somewhat snappy, likely due to lack of rest.
“I see, I see.”
Fujiwara snorted. He smelled one startlingly good smell, wafting through the store.

He wondered what it was. It was fragrant, likely a baked snack of some kind.
“Since I had nothing to do, I was trying a new biscuit.”

The Goodwife brought out a plate upon which were several small biscuits, all with a pleasing color, somewhat like a fox’s fur.
He wondered which to pick, they were all plenty warm.
“Mu. This is delicious.”
“Thank you,”
Fujiwara wasn’t just flattering her.
Perhaps it wasn’t sweet enough to be a child’s snack, but for Fujiwara is was good. The tea he received was also ideal for the snacks.

Fujiwara had heard that this hardy lady was originally an elite Seeker.
Her strength hadn’t declined any, and if Seekers had a scuffle in her pub, they’d both be punished immediately, it was a reputation the Tavern had.
But this dish, this proved she was just as competent at cuisine. Perhaps it was even better than the Granny Force’s biscuits.

“Now, for business. Do you want your usual fare?”
“Uu, the coffee… And the biscuits?”
“I have Sesame and Black Tea flavored as well as the plain.”
“Then, five of each.”
“Thank you very much.”

She promptly began wrapping the order up in paper, before remembering something.

“By the way, Thrift Shop, I have a favor to ask.”
“What is it?”
“I want for you to sell me a charm.”
“Charm… Do you mean an Amulet?”
“Yes, if that’s how you say it. I want a ‘Good Luck’ charm, or such.
“Charm of Prosperous Business?”
Fujiwara asked, reaching for the remaining complimentary biscuit.
This was not the first time a store had requested this of him.
This was because these past several years, Labyrinth City was met with a depression never before seen in intensity. The Dungeon had been extremely dangerous ever since the Expedition Event. Unfortunately, even if Seeker’s livelihood wasn’t directly tied to businesses, they all were related to them in some way, even if sales had just decreased.
If one were to say the economy relied on the Dungeon, they wouldn’t be exaggerating.

“No, the business isn’t the problem.
“Something else?”
“My Niece is looking to have a difficult delivery. Because of the store, I can’t go check how things go, but I’d like to send a charm, at least.”
“I see.”
Fujiwara’s assumption seemed to be wrong.

Somehow, there is a feeling that he should help as much as possible.
Fujiwara put a finger on his glasses, tracing his memory. He was looking through for any amulet he had indexed that might possibly help the Goodwife.
“I know just the thing to help. However, I think we are out of stock now, unfortunately.
“Is that so? If you find it in sock, you should sell it to me; I’ll buy it almost certainly.” “I see. I’ll confirm that none of my acquaintances stores have them, either.
“I’m begging.”

Fujiwara finished the transaction and tendered the paper bag.
It was unexpectedly bulky, the biscuits seemed to be a lot more packed that what he ordered from what he saw after stealthily looking in.
The Goodwife explained,
“Please help me with those. They aren’t on the menu and I have no other way of getting rid of them.
“Thank you very much, but… is there anything to cut them with?”
“You’re not your master, who needs to take anything with a dial of Liquor.”
“That person is in Western Maze City.”
“Oh, I see. Is it for business?”
“Eh, that person says so, but who knows.”

Teacher had left to buy things months ago. What or how much of what, Fujiwara did not know, but in this recession it seemed like there would be no money to make.
Work was just a pretext, the true purpose of the travel was clearly to leave responsibilities behind.
On the long run home, Fujiwara took the bag in both hands, looking back at that important Tavern, which would make biscuits and fill bags with them to the extent you couldn’t eat them.
Even with all of these troubles, he could at least eat good food.
◆
Fujiwara was on his way home. Time had passed, and Fujiwara was near the store, when he found a passed out silhouette in his way.
There’s the entrance to the Dungeon right nearby, and some people would pass out from exhaustion or other ills before making it to the clinics, so they’d sometimes need a bit of help.
Perhaps he’d be kind.
Of course, it was his teacher’s ‘welcoming’ policy that stated “Actively strive to win new customers- to sell to” that gave him no choice either way.
But he had an unpleasant hunch once he got in its vicinity. Some form of recognition.
The fallen down Seeker looked like a deformed soldier.
They were fitted with full body armor that covered even the tiny gaps with steel, from the very tip of the head to the very tip of the toe, and he finally made the association.
“…”
Miss “Footsteps of Death” again.
A fledgling who solo’d their way to the tenth floor, one who had won two nicknames by force. Even with the public eye on them, they refused to speak, let alone reveal their age, gender, race, name, or so forth.
But Fujiwara knew that, contrary to this dangerous appearance, they were a seventeen or eighteen year old woman
Of course, that is because this is the second time he’d have to treat her ills.
He recalled how she had nearly killed him at that time with a melancholic feeling.
But, he couldn’t just leave her alone, potentially badly injured. Giving up, he sighed and approached her.
“…What? Is  that you?”

“That pretext is rude, even at the very beginning of your speaking.”
What it was, however, was surprise at a familiar face.

“…Hmph.”
“You took another poison trap this time, too?”
“I don’t repeat the same mistake twice.”
“I see.”

Because she had her face covered he couldn’t tell, but he was certain she was making a haughty face.
Even so, when sprawled out in this position, force and dignity are a no.

Despite thinking as much, this was Fujiwara’s first proper discussion with her. Last time she was badly ill and they hadn’t said a decent word.
“By the way, don’t say anything about me.”
“I have not so far. Didn’t you say you’d kill me if I talked?”
“Okay, keep that in mind and I’ll keep you still alive.”
“Yes, thank you.”
She said this so far with a disdainful tone, one indeed very haughty in nature. (tl: Full Metal Ojou-Sama. I pictured grown up Anemone as more of a ‘cool, pleasant’ voice, somewhat monotone even, mainly to contrast with her insanely masculine appearance. Essentially, Agiri.)
Between master, this wonderful individual, and the Goodwife, all of them had very high pride in themselves, Fujiwara mused.
“…”
Miss “Footsteps of Death” was still in no condition to get up.
There are other circumstances that could kill off movement, besides Poison.
He looked about. It couldn’t be numbness or petrification, because she had made it back and was able to speak. He saw that her left gauntlet was a little warped and she was injured, but that seemed unrelated to moving.
“What… On earth?”
Gu.
KYURURURURU.
Fujiwara was asking what was wrong with her but a magnificent sound interrupted him, one that perhaps even shook their surroundings. He could guess the circumstances.
“…”
“…”
After a while, the miss moaned out a ‘…Damn’.
He wanted to just leave her there, but he marveled at her dedication to the full body armor, which was shaking little by little. Although she was clearly embarrassed that “The Footsteps of Death” was felled by hunger, her expression was hidden by that beetle helmet, so Fujiwara could not see it.
Fujiwara proposed, “Umm, I have some coffee and biscuits, would you like them?”
Gu.
KYURURURURU.
“…Eat…Food…”
Fujiwara nodded at the affirmation, rushing to again get the wheelbarrow he had used before to take her back to the Good Old Magician’s Shop quickly.
Fujiwara also hoped that his kindness wouldn’t get him killed. (tl: It will.)

MEIKYUU TOSHI NO ANTIQUE SHOP// CHAPTER 14: A SPOOKY NECKLACE (2)

Fujiwara promptly laid “The Footsteps of Death” upon the sofa in the back yard, before heading down to the underground warehouse, many keys in hand.
Many items his Teacher had purchased are stored underneath the store, in this location.
“I think it was right about here…”
Fujiwara was flipping through the contents of various wooden boxes, one after another, fiddling about them and looking for the item which was needed. For this issue, a Granting Tool was needed.

The items in here were called ‘stock’, but in truth, his master collected things as a hobby. After she (tl: Store owner is a she according to pronouns) messed around with them until she gets bored, she dumps them in a suitable nearby wooden box at random.
In addition, they weren’t sorted by any method and some didn’t even have Certificates, so it made searching for an item very difficult.

“…Why are books and wooden shoes together!? …There are dried apples, some with bites out of them, and toilet paper!? … This place is a dump, I’m getting irritated!”

Fujiwara wondered why she couldn’t just try to match things together.
Things had gotten worse since the recent Recession in Labyrinth City, since the store would not manage to sell anything, leading to the stock growing larger. The Master of the store’s normally laughing appearance had also become somewhat melancholic, Fujiwara thought.
“How frustrating!”
“…It was.”
Finally, from the bottom of the box, he found a useful item.

A necklace.
A silver tipped metal plate, with a circular chain of medals it hung around, it was quite eerie. Upon it is depicted a dinner of skeletons, toasting around a table. When this was found, Fujiwara’s master barely looked at it, because they did not like creepy objects.
Fujiwara dusted it off, and went up to the back yard rapidly, without even closing the door to the warehouse behind. With the condition of the ‘Footsteps of Death’, grace was the least important aspect.
◆

The deadly poison undermining her body was ‘Blood Drink’. (tl: Blood Sipping)
It drains the magic out of the blood, and it makes the blood thin out to the point you can no longer breathe, until you reach the point of death.
Fujiwara was uncertain how much time exactly had passed, but there wasn’t very much time by now, probably.

But, while Fujiwara was thinking this, ‘The Footsteps of Death’ was trying to lift herself from the sofa, straining and letting out a low roar. Such terrifying strength and willpower.

“Why are you getting up!?”
“Where… is this…?”
“I’m a curio dealer from ‘The Good Old Magician’s Shop’, so please don’t be reckless and get back to sleeping!”
“…Armor…where…is my armor… I need it…”
“Then-“

Fujiwara began to say it was in front of the store, but he held his tongue.
He noticed what was in her hands.
It was a Long Sword which had been placed in the back yard. It was covered in rust, but it had already been unsheathed, and what she was holding turned out to be the sheath.
He had a bad feeling.
Wind was striking her frame, with some coming towards him as well.
With this, her hair was dancing in the night sky.

“Footsteps of Death” was striking a battle pose, as well.

What Fujiwara thought was wind approaching was actually the long sword, thrown by her hand. The throw had followed a semicircular orbit with ridiculous speed, Fujiwara only barely able to dodge, grazing his glasses and tearing his bangs, though he was unable to see it coming towards him.

He felt sweat dripping down his spine.

“Hey, hey, if it weren’t for me, you’d have already died… Why would you so suddenly try to cut me, huh?”

Could it have been a symptom of the poison, hallucination?
But it couldn’t be.
There were many potions which could attack the senses or cause great fear and anger, but Fujiwara had already appraised the poison. It was only ‘Blood Drinking’, and nothing else. Hallucination was not a symptom for this poison, and even if the consciousness became dim from blood loss, it would not become deranged.

The flash occurred a second time.
This time it flew towards his chest, tearing his pocket clean off.
Now his knees were quaking.

“Hey, wait a minute. Can you bear killing your benefactor?”
“Can…Kill… It is…”
It seemed as though she could not hear him.

This “Footsteps of Death” seemed to be in a frenzy. He had no idea why.

Currently, she was dressed in a troublesome way, only in her underwear.
But, of course, this is because she only wore that full body armor, but this could be one source of misunderstanding.
But, even if that was the misunderstanding, how was she able to merely condemn him as ‘Enemy’ and refuse to reason out the situation? Fujiwara decided to attempt to converse again, asking the reason why.

“Let’s talk about it for a bit…”
“Oh…Can…”

The third and fourth flashes.
A coffee cup meant for customers was shattered with a flash, and the thermos flew away with a dull and metallic sound. Finally, the sword dug into the wall on the fourth throw, not boomeranging back.

Miss “Footsteps of Death” dropped the sheath in her hand.
Her eyes were not cloudy, and they did not seem to be frightened, though they were somewhat angry-looking.
This monster had returned straight from the dungeon, with eyes indeed like the malice a monster had looking at a Seeker.

Fujiwara couldn’t understand why.
Fujiwara remembered then his unease when he found ‘The Footsteps of Death’ in the storefront.
At that time, she was still wearing her armor, even if it trapped in the poison. Even though it was fatal, she had not removed it even if it would save her.
Fujiwara was beginning to catch on.

“The Footsteps of Death” began running forth. Fujiwara began to retreat, taking one step before stamping on something and losing his balance. It was the thermos.

“-Urah!”

Upon him was a body, dealing a blow to his abdomen and forcing him to the ground fully. A vivid heat was against him.

“Gua-a”
Fujiwara couldn’t breathe. Around his neck were her thin fingertips.
He was being hamstrung by a person who had been poisoned so badly, it was inconceivable.

“I’ll… Kill you! Kill you… K-i-ll!”

Her hair was disturbed, face fully clear.
He could hear her hard breathing, like a predator upon its prey.
However, her eyes were a different matter altogether.
It was two human eyes, swaying now in conflict.
“…If you’re willing to… kill me, do it…”
“…Damn!”

“The Footsteps Of Death” could clearly not finish him off, hiding her face and growling, weight still on Fujiwara.

He knew why she always wore that unfitting Full Body Armor. The reason she would not remove it at any cost. The reason she wouldn’t turn around and greet anyone, the reason no one knew her name, character, or race. The reason why even while poisoned she refused to remove the suit.
It was all for one reason.
Fujiwara now knew the words he needed to say.

“…Please… calm down, I’m… not going to tell anyone… about your identity.”

Something cold began dropping on his shoulders, suddenly wet. “The Footsteps of Death’s growly turned into sobs. The power of the fingers on his neck loosened as well.
He didn’t know the exact circumstances, but she was extremely afraid of her identity being revealed.

Enough that seeing her face was enough to kill him over.
The Footsteps of Death fell upon him, no longer able to hold herself up. Fujiwara pulled her off of him. It was as though her prior actions were all fake, throwing the sword and running up to attack him.

The poison was progressing so fast she was in an exhausted state, getting close to passing out. Yet she was able to stand up, attack him, and be threatening. How could she move that much with this poison?
“…”

Fujiwara didn’t know if ‘The Footsteps of Death’ accepted the situation or not, or if he should help her. In such an extreme situation, she too was an extreme existence which would likely be nothing but trouble. At any rate, Fujiwara decided that this one was an unimaginable entity.

◆
He began with first aid.

He placed the necklace upon her. It was a Poison Amulet, which would negate poison effects if you wore it in advance. It would stave off the spread of the poison in her blood.
However, detoxification was not so easy. He couldn’t neutralize the corrosion already done to her body.
“The Footsteps of Death” was having a nightmare.
After losing consciousness, it would be difficult to start the granting tool. Therefore, Fujiwara would have to pay the cost on behalf of her.
Upon filling it with magic in his palm, a pale light film wrapped around “The Footsteps of Death”.
“Fu…”
Her poison resistance should have increased, aiding Fujiwara in suppressing the danger. Again, he could not purify the toxin itself, but the situation would not get worse.

“Well.”

The problem was something other than the poison now.
This ‘Blood Drinking Poison’ was a fairly popular trap in the Dungeon. It invaded through the lungs and converted the blood magic into toxins that would continue to spread through the blood vessels. Dizziness, difficulty breathing, and convulsions would all occur until consciousness was lost.
Fujiwara continued pouring magic into the amulet, taking out another item he looted from the store.

A glass vial. It was the ‘Detox Potion’, luxury quality.
He poured it out onto a spoon, sure not to spill it, directly feeding it into her mouth before pinching her nose to be sure she’d swallow. This would neutralize the poison. Most Detox would require a long time, but Luxury had an immediate effect.

Over the course of a few minutes he emptied the vial into her mouth, spoonful by spoonful, until it was dry. Since such an item was valuable, his Teacher would be angry he used it without permission, but he stopped caring about that. The amount of poison ingested likely exceeded an ordinary person’s lethal dose by spades. Such a capability to withstand it is phenomenal.
“After that…”

After the detox potion, he began feeding her a “Mana Potion”.
It’s a nutritional supplement that aides in restoring Magical Power to a person who has used it. Due to the Blood Sucking poison’s interference, she was likely all out of it. Blood Magic Power was not only important for spells, but also normal activity. A Human has 40,000 drops that they maintain in their body, on average, and when this gets low or depleted, severe impairment occurs. So, he supplemented it.

“The Footsteps of Death’s” condition was immediately improved immensely, gradually becoming stable. Fujiwara was now occupied with standard First Aid. He wiped the sweat from her brow with a damp towel and looked at her a bit closer.
Age, seventeen or eighteen. Cheeks were somewhat hollow, likely hungry.
She had likely been unable to eat while reaching the Tenth Floor, so he decided to give her some food in a bit.
“…It should be alright now.”
Fujiwara stifled a yawn.
By now it was time to close “The Good Old Magician’s Shop” up, since it was not busy.
All of this work didn’t mesh with his low wage.
“The Footsteps of Death” better buy an item as collateral, he thought. I’ll also ask Teacher for a pay increase, he thought. Ten times, no twenty. And as he was thinking this, he began sleeping at the counter.

◆
When he woke, “Deadly Dance” had already left, along with the armor. The only thing left in the back yard was a letter. The words “I won’t say thank you. You did this selfishly. Tell no one my identity, I will kill you if you do.”
A visitor that might leave him as a dead body.
He remembered the bet Tristan had made earlier. If he told Tristan about her he might be killed in retaliation, so he stopped that line of thinking. Even if he told them, no one would believe it anyway.
“Huuh…”
Fujiwara let out a small sigh.

Fujiwara absentmindedly retrieved the dented thermos and checked the condition of the back yard.
Of course, he was going out to buy Coffee.
For the daily abuse he suffered, it was the only reward, getting him through these harsh days.

◆

That was the first time Fujiwara and Anemone had met.

◆

Discrimination Certificate “Amulet of Poison Resistance” (Off The Mark)

“Those primarily of the house of Anvil, give blood equal to ½ the specific weight of the poison you are suffering, and The World will lend the protection of to your offal, to feed the flesh and blood.”

This was a plainly popular item. It’s considered a necessity while exploring the Dungeon. This amulet is used as a Poison-Proof.

During the Dark Ages, aristocrats would wear these to protect their decadence, in case of poison. The manufacture method of this amulet is still known, but most are custom-made according to preference and fashion, again meant for noble use.
During those days poison was rampant as a way to kill off a rival secretly; it was a symbol of social status.

As far as use, only one note is needed. The Amulet of Detoxification is a different item. This will only strengthen your immunity and resistance, but it will not cure poison in and of itself. Therefore, if you’re poisoned, putting it on will not be a cure-all, and it will only help you a little. Always go to the Clinic as soon as you think you’re in danger! It’s never too early.

MEIKYUU TOSHI NO ANTIQUE SHOP// CHAPTER 13: A SPOOKY NECKLACE (1)

“Oy, Monk,”
“It’s Fujiwara.”

Early in the afternoon, a familiar visitor had arrived at an even more familiar store.
Without looking up, Fujiwara opened a ledger, sitting at a counter and having coffee, giving his usual answer.
No matter how long these two were acquainted, Tristan would never stop calling Fujiwara ‘Monk’, so by now this dialogue was akin to a greeting between the two.

“Where’s the store owner?”
“My master is out buying things in Western Labyrinth City.”
“Ka, do you think I don’t you’re the manager? Even if my age is receding I’m not senile.”
“It’s annoying that I’ve got to do all this work so early on because Master is out. I’ll be willing to do the Appraisal but if it’s some textbook shit…” (tl: this dialogue was rough)
“Hey, don’t get angry with me.”

There was no harm in pointing out that Tristan was elderly, yet an active Seeker. Most of the reason for his visits were to appraise unusual items he found in the Dungeon.
Today, however, he was empty-handed. Fujiwara wondered what on earth he could have come for.
Fujiwara brought out an awful, chipped cup meant for certain visitors, pouring coffee into it on their back porch.
“Please dilute it with some goat’s milk.”
“There’s nothing that high quality here. It would be impolite to make me go to the market to get it over coffee, so, please drink it as is.”
“Eh, you should be more anxious over your elder’s health.”
“If that’s the case, go to a pub, then.”
“Oh, right, that’s it.”
Tristan seemed to have remembered something, snapping his fingers and saying
“Monk, do you know the latest story?”
“Which is it?”
“In “The Underground House to Look at the Sun”, it’s all of the buzz.”
“I don’t have any idea, at all.”

“The Underground House to Look at the Sun” is a popular tavern which many Seekers gathered in in this Labyrinth City.
It was also Fujiwara’s favorite coffee-and-snack shop which they often got orders to takeout from.
They often only spoke but a few words at the counter, so he had not heard of this new information.

“You rarely talk at all with anyone but customers… I’ll tell you this time as a special service. Someone entered the Tenth Floor independently after such a long time.”
“Oh, are you serious? Who is the daredevil?”
“It was a fledgling rookie.”
Being alone on the tenth floor meant you had arrived there all alone. This was a major feat.
Arriving at the tenth floor alone was seen as a kind of competition between Seekers, a trial of courage. Of course, when in a party that has a few of the Ten Classes, it was no major occurrence, but alone it was a huge feat.

There are a number of reasons for this. First, when alone, you cannot sleep. There is no one to take guard duty and ensure you are safe. Second, if you are trapped with an injury it’s certain you will be left injured.
Even if you mentioned the advantage of reputation and not splitting loot, the risk reward was such a disadvantageous game that it was essentially gambling with your life.

“It has been a decade since the last great talent. He was standing at the base of the Great Sword when I saw him.”
“Were you searching for them?”
“Well, it was by chance.”

Tristan said as much, but Fujiwara had suspicions. Fujiwara knew this old man was prone to ridiculous pranks to satisfy his own curiosity.
While on this topic, one must note that tracking other seekers’ actions is considered a major breach of conduct, to the extent of a robber or highwayman.

“They’re out now. They have two names in the rumors.”
People with a degree of fame were followed by nicknames, especially Seekers, and often in the case of experts their nickname would supersede their real one. Despite this one being considered a novice, with such an exceptional performance, it was only natural they’d have one or two.

“What is the name?”
“Footsteps of Death” (tl: introduced here as Deadly Dance)
“Footsteps?”
“He wears full body armor. He makes giant ‘SHA SHA’ sounds every time he takes a step.
“…”
“Hihihihi. Isn’t it funny?”
“That’s insane, isn’t it?”
Fujiwara didn’t believe his ears.
Tristan should be aware that such a joke wasn’t funny either. “Footsteps of Death”, with this behavior, would be a prime suicide candidate.

The Dungeon was a den of carnivorous monsters. They were always starving, seeking out food, and they could even react to quite speaking voices or fearful footsteps. To make loud sounds would be bad for your escape rate. Therefore, careful adventurers make preparations for quiet armor, or devise plans to keep them quiet.

This Mr. Whole Body Armor (which covered the body with no gaps, as the name suggests), had taken no such measures, and therefore it was unexpected to wear that sort of thing. This was like running out into the dungeon magnificently, slamming pots together and yelling in front of the fierce animals.

Indeed, this is a “Deadly Dance”.

“Ah, the name comes from what follows behind him. While they roll on through the Dungeon, hordes of monsters chase behind.”
“……”

They seem to defeat all monsters ahead of them in an instant, leaving the rest chasing behind. Such terrifying strength and fortitude, a person who could do this and live would be ‘a miracle’.
“This Footsteps of Death, what sort of person is he?”
“That’s the problem.”
Tristan snapped again, pointing his index finger.
“They are completely unidentified. They would be a real ghost if it weren’t so clearly alive.”
“Neither name nor family?”
“Because of their helm, we don’t even know their face. In addition, because they seem to be rather antagonistic, even if someone greets them in the Dungeon they don’t even say hello.
“I see.”
Fujiwara finally understood, while nodding.
This was the matter so immediate that this old Seeker had come here.
Even if he was the type who liked talking, he was not aimless or wasteful of his time. Now that Fujiwara understood, it was likely that this time was well spent.

“Then, I see now. Is the appearance of this character a popular bet at the pub?”
“Yes. The most popular is a shaggy dwarf. The runner up is a run-away Lizard Man, and the dark horse bet was a half-elf.
“That’s your bet, Tristan?”

“Well.”

His purpose was finally clear.
In other words, he visited the store this time to involve Fujiwara in the gambling.

He occasionally starts shitty bets with the guys in the tavern, sometimes indeed involving Fujiwara.
This always left Fujiwara wracked thin with worries.

Since the events of the “Expedition Event”, many Seekers like him were left depressed.
So as not to get in the pandemonium, Tristan occasionally began bets, trying to avoid going into the Dungeon as much as possible while still earning a living.

This was indeed related to the recent Recession of Labyrinth City.
Very few monsters were dropping items now, and if you did not get drop items, what could the shops sell? What could you sell to the shops?
Small gambles couldn’t heal that depression, but it could help.

“So, will Mr. Monk bite as well?”
“…I’d rather refrain.”
Fujiwara politely declined.
His shop was also undergoing a depression as well, and he would be troubled if he could not afford the Coffee charge because he lost the bet.
◆
Tristan said “Well, if you change your mind on the betting, let me know any time”, leaving the store.

Fujiwara, now alone, finished off the leftover coffee and put the ledger away quickly.
Since no visitors had come, he began cleaning the store. Fujiwara was reluctant, but Master did not like the store becoming dirty and would complain, so he made sure it stayed clean.
“…Fu.”
Fujiwara finished sweeping the store, going outside with a broom.
Outside the store was a bright, sunny day, ideal for a stroll.
He wanted to do just that and place a placard upon the door, but if Fujiwara’s master returned, he was unsure what punishment he would receive. He promptly stopped that train of thought.

When he was cleaning the outside properly, he found at the very end of the property something large under a pile of leaves. It seemed to be a silhouette.
“…”

Fujiwara was developing a headache.

Nearby the store was the Entrance Hall of the Dungeon, and this was a place injured Seekers often fell over.
-But.
The silhouette he saw just now could not have possibly been a person. It looked more like someone left their equipment lying there. Rather than dig under the pile, he decided to go clean up the back yard, hurriedly changing his plans like so.
Fujiwara began to turn around and begin walking to the store, but then stopped.

“…”

He felt that his master had once told him to aggressively help those who fall down nearby.
Of course not out of philanthropy, but “That person will likely become regulars from then on. They might even reward you”, and sordid thoughts such as that.

Fujiwara contemplated, rubbing his forehead.
The thing under the pile would be troublesome, but if he left it there, he would be preached at by his master yet again. Either decision was troublesome to Fujiwara.
“…I really do not like people. Ah, well,”

It was indeed not in his nature to ignore the person under the leaves, however. Fujiwara sighed, deciding to approach it with the broom leaning against the wall.
Under the pile lay armor. The armor was from the tip of the head to the tip of the toe, covered by thick armor all around. This was the so-called ‘Full Body Armor’.
The possibility that this was just thrown away armor was dispelled when Fujiwara heard a faint breathing within.
Unfortunately, it was a person.

They had a good stature, one uncommon to find in the city, and it was unusual to have a person in such perfect armor.
This was likely the rookie ‘Footsteps of Death’ that was the source of the rumors.

“Uuu…”
A painful sound was heard.
Fujiwara checked all over the armor but could find no dints, nicks, or other abnormalities. No hollow areas or bruise marks, not even a damage scar.

“…They might be hungry,” Fujiwara considered.
Food is a common thing to run out of in the Dungeon.
As he bent close to the covered face, Fujiwara smelled something.
Some smell was leaking from the gaps of the Full Helm.
Fujiwara tried to make sense of the smell, and coughed.
“I see, is it poison?”

Poison gas seems to have been caught in the nearly air-tight Full Body Armor. They had likely wandered into a trap, unknowingly.

“I’ll begin the healing”, Fujiwara decided while cupping his nose and mouth with one hand.
He was contemplating how to remove this troublesome thing, failing, when he found a clasp around the gorget of the armor (tl: neck/breastpiece, French armor), removing that, and then removing it easily.

There was still one thing Fujiwara couldn’t comprehend. It was why this person wore the armor even now. In a situation like this, shouldn’t you remove the armor and let the collected gas scatter away?

“…”
Fujiwara unconsciously held his breath.
Instead of scars or burns he was greeted with smooth skin, abundant eyelashes, long eyelids and red lips like roses, with a golden bob of hair held in an additional ceramic casque (tl: headpiece, helmet).

It would seem that this Footsteps of Death was indeed a girl. In fact, a beautiful one, to the extent that Fujiwara could feel lost while looking.

But, the situation could not be hung up just like that.

Even at a glance, Fujiwara saw the terrible symptoms.
Their skin was pale in complexion from loss of blood.
Their breaths were shallow, barely leaking from their throat.
Their eyes were convulsing, and they were nearly entering a comatose state.

Fujiwara decided to bring them to a free medical hospital posthaste (tl: clinic, I think), but could not do so until after the first aide was completed.

Fujiwara was too weak to carry her, lifting her instead into a leaf cart and barreling her inside the store.

MEIKYUU TOSHI NO ANTIQUE SHOP// CHAPTER 12: A STRANGE SMELLING SHAWL (2)

“It’s about time to get feedback on our previous dungeon exploration.”

Mint and the others were about ready to get an appraisal on the loot they brought home, now at the store.
They had dropped into “The Good Old Sorcerer’s Shop”. It seemed to be an acclaimed store known to be a favorite of those with Granting Tools in many rumors spread around at a certain underground tavern. In fact, it was considered to be a scary store, because unless you had many gold coins you could not purchase anything, even the objects casually displayed.

The store owner is a youth with glasses, with a touch of messy hair. They don’t have the looks to match the job, but at least they seem competent enough. The rumors said that he could appraise anything regardless of item type or quality, and get the solution quickly and correctly. Ointments, armor, weapons, medicine, generally they all had specialty stores, but here they could all be easily appraised. A Granting Tool expert.

“But, no matter how good the expert is, if the items are bad the result will be the same…” Mint considered to herself.
Smiling, the Store Owner declared…

“All of these items and artifacts are fake.”
A shining treasure chest was sitting on the counter with many items inside. Precious coins and metal were giving off this radiant glow.

Mint realized, as she and the others were amateurs, this sort of treasure was out of their reach in the first place. They’d been duped by the loot itself.
“Oi, stop joking. Your boring joke even took me by surprised. Really, do it properly, stop with this.”

“Eea, for example, these look like Silver rings, but when rubbed with touchstone they become slightly yellow.”
“That’s all it is?”
“Genuine silver does not have any such reaction. The touchstone has nitric acid, and this reaction is most likely copper.
“Ma, really?”
“Yes. Furthermore, these brooches.”
“Well, they certainly look like gold. Don’t tell me…”
“Yes, they certainly look like gold indeed. However, based on their Specific Gravity, that does not seem to be the case. It’s just copper covered with a thin paint of gold.” (tl: Specific Gravity is a principle that’s in relation to density and water. Gold has 19.3 as its flat density, while silver has 10.5. You can read the origination proper here: http://www.math.nyu.edu/~crorres/Archimedes/Crown/CrownIntro.html)
“There are so many gold coin and jewels in there… Don’t tell me, the jewels are fake too?
“You could say I’ve tested each one, but unfortunately they’re all imitations, or even imitations of imitations. If you’re not convinced, I can explain each individually. Just ask.”
“…How direct.”
Malmo the Halfling that had climbed the counter to stare into it is now slipping after losing his force of will.
The treasure chest was something he had discovered in a hidden room, himself. He found its cleverly concealed location and had dismantled its complicated lock, so no one expected a fake.
It took him a period of many hours to release the traps, grab the treasure, and since it was so heavy it had to be carried in shifts, making two at a time be dead weight. They had finally brought it here and, lo and behold, it was a quality akin to ‘a bad joke’.

“How regrettable. I was hoping to get a grasp on an excellent sword from the haul we got this time, how regrettable indeed…”
“I was going to get a new flame-attribute chainmail…”
“I wanted to repurchase that Drunk’s Flask…”

Mint’s three party members all lost their momentum, disappointed.
The profits they had expected disappeared nearly as quickly, money to a degree you could go on a shopping spree even if it were divided evenly was gone.

“Hahaha, if it’s like this, why don’t we drink it away?”
Even Mint failed to remain motivated, letting out a dry laugh.
During the arduous journey of carrying this treasure box, they had all built up an extensive list of things they were going to buy. Mint had decided on magic books and accessories as well as deluxe food, but it all became foam in the sea.
“Well, if I recommend you to a trader, you should probably get at least five hundred Gerun.”

The glasses wearing owner was clearly sad for them, proposing as such.
That sum was still not enough to motivate them, or even cover their losses they accrued while bringing the chest back. Clearly, it was time to go drinking.
“Uuh, are you sure you didn’t overlook anything? Maybe an amazing Granting Tool?”
“I didn’t feel even a bit of magic from this chest.”
“How about this shawl here?”
“Oh? Bring it closer, this actually seems valuable.”
“Hmm? Yes, yes.”
The Store Owner’s voice shone through. Mint thought he was just trying to divert the melancholy, but while discussing with Malmo, it seemed different.
The things they had found in the chest were only close to being ‘loot’, if at all.
However, the Cape she had picked up in the dungeon, with its amber color and circular shape, seemed to be a different story. (tl note: just realized the image of Linne is actually Mint, I was unable to determine one way or another and thought the flowers were actually Linne’s Barrette, not mere flowers.)
It smelled unusual and was clearly time-worn, gave nothing for defense, but it was clearly a Granting Tool- once the store owner casted spells of concealment destruction and sensing, this was plain to see.
The design on it, however, was rather pretty, while not looking so deluxe that you couldn’t use it as everyday clothes. She didn’t want to abandon it, planning on bringing it with her back home.

“Hmm… This thread seems to be woven from a Marudekazubana plant, judging by its smell and luster. This smell is one that insects in particular hate.
The Store Owner lifted his nose here.
“It might be a good Granting Tool. Generally, clothing with this fabric also include a built-in Insect Repellant circuit.
“Is that right?”
“Is it true?”
“It can’t be, hey.”

Thus, the Store Owner began his work.
While it wasn’t strong magic, it had a high number of detection avoidance and concealment spells, making the Appraisal take a long time to begin.
Mint was astonished by his ability, however. To be able to tell an item’s origin and spell just by its smell, this sort of trick couldn’t be done no matter the amount of skill one had, magic must have been involved. She decided that this Store Owner was no ordinary man after all.

“Where did you learn your magic?”
“Well, if I must say it, it’s ‘direct transmission’.” (tl: self-taught, I think)
Anyway, the companions all rejoiced, glad not to completely lose out on their labors. An good-quality Granting Tool, especially a luxury one like Bug Repellant, was likely quite expensive.

Mint, however, had complicated feelings on the matter. It was something she had worked hard to bring back, and she rather liked its design. However, it was something she had to give up, as it was an unwritten law that you must distribute evenly within the party.

They were thinking to sell it immediately before Mint finally complained.

“But Mint, such a thing will never be useful. Bug Repellant likely won’t help us at all.”
“Yes, its ability itself isn’t good too, if there is a bug it will be better to just kill it outright. (also tl note: Mint, Malmo, another girl I think, and mister samurai are the party thus far. The one speaking here uses ‘sessha’ and ‘degozaru’.)

“It’s difficult to imagine a scene where Mint would smush an insect…”
“Absolutely not, that’s gross!”
Against her three friends, Mint did not concede.
There were several reasons for this.
First, the fact Mint brought the Cape along because she liked it.
The second was its “Insect Repellant” ability.
Mint hated large insects. If she even saw a caterpillar, she would become ill. Furthermore, in the Dungeon there were some floors that contained many insects. It was a suitable item for a Seeker like her, which would help her get through those floors. Things like bugs getting into her sleeping bag, she couldn’t permit.
This insect repellent would help immensely. Large bugs would virtually disappear while wearing this shawl. Indeed, ideal for a Seeker girl.

When it comes to ownership, in the end, the one who found the drop owns it. Resisting their entreaties, Mint decided to use it.

Even though Mint owned this cape now, they never expected how soon it would prove useful…

★
The massive insect was hovering, visibly confused.
As a powerful Sergeant Bee, I have to gather much food for the Queen.
I was busying myself for the hunt when I spotted good game in the immediate vicinity.
They’re still young, one a young half elf who’s flesh seemed delicious.
They seemed less prone to fleeing than those three they had been chasing just prior. The bee was glad to find good meat for the Queen. Suddenly, something simultaneously struck my entire mob. We were all suddenly terrified of that young half-elf.
It was as if they had all seen the World Snake, the Jormungander. It was a matchless force, by any comparison.  The force of this fear, too, was matchless.
We killer bees panicked, some fleeing or even fainting outright. The force was matchless by all means.
The culprit was the one he least expected, difficult to believe.

It was the half-elf who had thrown such an overwhelming force into the group.

★

Mint sighed with relief. With a Bug Repellant cape this strong, she would no longer be attacked by them.
Truly, the power of this shawl was immense.
Despite the wall of flames disappearing, none of the killer bees came forward, the loud hum akin to a storm now nothing more than a quiet buzz, all bees floating like husks or even falling from the cloud.

The sign on the Magic Cape was in fact a pattern like a giant organism. It was a very powerful shape, evidently one that had such profound influence on the Killer Bees.

Their intentions foiled, the herd had not moved forward to attack. Few even moved forward at all. In fact, most had begun to retreat.

But, before long, the fear would be useless. The horde would slowly realize what had happened, they weren’t stupid. Eventually, they would escape the shock, so Mint began to move towards the honeycomb. The role of Mint was to stop the bees, the role of her companions was to kill the Queen Bee. She decided to execute a plan.

“Ziziii-“, suddenly the herd noticed something, beginning to flee back to the colony hastily. However, Mint was now in position to scare them again, raising another wall.

The herd had received a Pheromone Distress Signal from the queen. In addition to merely exciting the horde of Bees it could also give detailed instructions, this one being to return to the hide posthaste. Clearly, her companions had begun their rampage.
As it was, Mint had no intention to permit the swarm to move.
One could use magic to interfere with the cape’s shape. She forced her magic into the shape of two invisible hands, stretching them beside the swarm, encircling it into a cage with a globe shape. The Killer Bees were truly in the palms of her hands.

“Ziiyuya?”

The Bees which were ready to head for the hive suddenly instead showed an intense reaction, as though they had touched fire. Clearly, this cage had great effect.
Mint wiped the sweat from her brow.

This ability should be named “Mushikago” (insect cage).
Without the cape’s help it couldn’t be done, but it was a spell she had personally built at this point, on the spot. With other interchangeable effects it might work.
Little by little she shortened the area the bugs were in, pressing them together.
The herd was indeed like sheep herded by a sheep dog, their movements entirely controlled by Mint as they slowly became a small mass of insects.

“I give up making it any smaller.”

Closing in this Mushikago reduced the amount of magic she had to use, but with only this Insect Repellent effect, she could not continue shrinking it. The bees could no longer move at all, however.
Now it was just a staring contest while she waited for her companions.

Mint might not have been good at Offensive Incantations, but she was a top notch magic operator with a lot of perseverance. With those things alone she could compete with advanced magicians, or even get a guarantee to a master of magic’s apprenticeship.

While holding back this horde, she could hear something like a female scream behind her.

At the same time, the bees changed in mannerism completely.
Slowly, movement in the Mushikago began stirring. Slowly, the swarm began spreading out again. Some of them, one by one, began to stagger free from the cage, fainting.
They began to kill eachother, biting and bumping together poison needles, making Mint dizzy from all the magic usage.

“Zazazaza”, “Zizizizi”, “Zzzzz…”, “…”

Each time this occurred, it got weaker and weaker.

This is a terrible habit known to Seekers as the Killer Bee’s “Immolation Death”. When a Queen Bee dies, she releases intense pheromones. These torture the minds of the Killer Bees, sending them into a frenzy in which they attack every entity they see, friend or foe.
In other words, the Queen Bee had been killed by her party.

From the halo of Bees fell many corpses, out of the invisible cage.

She released her Cape’s effects once confirming they all died.
She was flooded with fatigue.
Even though individually, the effect is not costly, with such frenzy of the storm, her magic was dried up. It was akin to extreme blood loss, with her collapsing to the ground, unable to move.

“Aa… I’m tired…”

Mint was sprawled out there, until her party returned she’d be unable to move. She began to think about the reward they’d get this time, and how successful this expedition was.

She decided to first visit her favorite pub, a certain tavern most know, as soon as she returned to the surface. Nothing’s better than drinking with friends after a hard day’s work, she decided.

“Mun…”
In this all too soft ground made of a mushroom’s plume, she rested her cheek. Her company returned, amazed to find her sleeping in a dangerous place like this “Sea of Trees”.
★

Discrimination Certificate “Shawl of Insect Repelling (good)”
“Thou sly princess, dedicate two thousand five hundred and sixty five drops of blood. Through our world, granted to you will be an overpowering terror to the servants of Our Swarm.”
In “The Era of Supreme Sorcerers”, short stories were collected near the end of the era, describing the customs of those who domesticated insects for pets or escorts, mostly the elves in the forests of old, or even humans later referred to as “Sly Princesses”.
This item is especially useful to scare off insects dangerous to humans or that will harm humans.
This Cape was likely taken from a captured elf that was in considerable danger, but its origination is unknown.
Additional note, the patter upon it resembles the great Jormungander, a gigantic worm that is feared by the many insects of the wilderness.

MEIKYUU TOSHI NO ANTIQUE SHOP// CHAPTER 11: A STRANGE SMELLING SHAWL (1)

The Dungeon’s Sixth Floor, often called “The Sea of Trees”
This place was a natural world, full of fungi, insects, and small animals- as well as monsters- which formed an ecosystem.
“Uwaaaaaaaaaaaa!”
“Ah, it’s dangerous, these insects are dangerous.”
“Uo, I can see my death in front of me. Death at the hands of insects.”
“Uwa, uwa, I never want to come to this place again”
“Mister, miss, you need to help, where are you going?”
“Mou, running as soon as trouble occurs and a few people are having trouble…”

They scream, her three friends running swiftly forward on this huge mushroom, with others escaping in various directions.
These three were probably useless in battle.

Swiftly following them was a huge amorphous mass, a Black Cloud.

It was a horde of Killer Bees.
One alone was the size of a human infant. A strong bite or poison sting comes with the customer. The poison is a severe neurotoxin which paralyzing effects, though just a single sting is not big deal.
Hundreds of them nearby is another deal altogether.
The movement of the few has become a large mass of monsters integrally governed by the pheromones of a Queen that lurked burrowed underground.
“Is it safe?”

The girl who saw her three friends getting chased by the swarm of bees was hiding in the gaps of a small bush, slowly crawling away.

She had hid herself, and was not chased by the swarm. Only she was taking refuge.

Killer Bees usually never swarmed.
They were generally solo hunters, only extracting pollen and occasionally snatching people to be larva food, and generally self-sufficient. One alone could be considered death.
But, the ever so often “Breeding Season” completely changes that story.
They require a large amount of food to produce larvae, and the whole race becomes ferocious, actively hunting down other monsters and humans, and truly becoming “Killer Bees”.
Of course, the bee’s “Harvest” is proportional to the number of offspring they have. Over ten years, the population has grown exponentially. This year, the population in this forest alone that the colony included nearly a hundred bees. Eventually, colonies could reach the tens of thousands.
Already, many investigators had become their victims, but not only them, even large monsters had been swarmed and dragged to the Beehives.
The situation that would occur if this “Breeding Season” continued to grow larger in range was not hard to imagine.
Therefore, the Seeker’s Guild had doubled back on its efforts, raising forces to quell the hordes of bees, which she had joined.

One dead queen, fifty thousand Gerun. This was an unprecedented award.
Mint was one of these Seekers allured by the reward, going into this Dense Forest.
“…”
Mint climbed up the mushroom again somewhat and surveyed the situation.
She was opposite to the direction the three friends had run away.
The huge, eye-catching mushroom was also in this direction.
It was comparable in thickness and base height to a huge tree, so saying it “towers ahead” is not inaccurate.

Above, the board umbrella draped a shadow large enough to hide the sun.
Something huge and vaguely spherical hung below, somewhat brown in color.

This must be the Bee Colony. The only animal in sight were three Killer Bees, in the entire surrounding area. They were vigilantly flying around, as well as darker than the usual Bee, this was clearly a trio of fierce Sergeant Bees.

Of course, inside the nest were a combination of many brown hexahedrons, consisting of the residence of the Queen Bee, a spawning ground, and a storage location for honey. The bees themselves worked night and day, only returning when they brought nectar or prey.
There were no bees entering or leaving the hives. The rest of the residents of the hive were all chasing the three friends from before, clearly.

Getting in now would be quite easy.
Mint could suddenly hear voices.
It was the three friends from before, suddenly returning here. They were loudly shouting while running, seeming as if they were playing about, but clearly they were still getting attention from the bees. Apparently, they thought Mint would now play a role fighting the large black clouds behind them.

Mint jumped down from their perch, wishing they did not have to run again. They landed on the soft ground, the halo of the mushroom.

This is a popular method for entry into hives, using companions as decoys so that the guards would move from the hive. Though, in this case, some guards refused to leave.
Mint whipped out her cane.
She spun an incantation, while moving it like a parade baton.

Witchcraft is a means for communication with the world. Gestures, hand symbols, and spells were all methods of doing so. Like here, through fully understanding these gestures, you can get magical phenomenon to occur.
A small fire is created at the end of the cane, immediately expanding immensely before Mint condensed them, forcing it to be fist sized.

“Everyone, this is it!”
Her friends began running faster at the call.
They were glaring as an added bonus.

The hordes of killer bees like a black wall came rushing in with waves of momentum.
This was nearly as intimidating as a gigantic monster.
Mint had to reassure herself not to panic.
Mint wasn’t amazing at ‘action scenes’. Since the aggressive spells one could use were many in number, she was easily a battle mage, but the lack of firepower from her spells were obvious. She was devoting herself to her party’s support non-stop.

That being said, dealing with the colony alone would be rather difficult, even with a few sergeants alone and a Queen Bee.
“The Bee Hive has been found!”
“Okay, Yeah!”
“Go straight to the destination, there are only three Sergeant Bees!”
“It’s an easy win!”
“See you later!”
“Yes!”
Mint nodded, his back to the companions running through.

“I’ll devote myself to support again today.”

She wielded her cane resolutely.
The posture was nearly the same as one wielding a sword.
From the ground a fire was raised, a mass of flame blocking and spreading along the road.
This pay-out was the magic “Wall of Fire”. Mint finished the wall without great difficulty, a spell like this was clearly child’s play.
Still, it had some effect.

If they were ordinary insects, Mint would dive in right away. Instead, she put up a fence to first slow down the group of enemies, which was especially dangerous due to Killer Bees being somewhat intelligent.
This swarm of Killer Bees was well beyond a hundred in number.
While one  animal would make only a buzz, a number this high truly pounded the head.
Goririririri…
Presenting herself as new prey, Mint ensured she was captured by the many compound eyes.
Her back shuddered.
If one carefully observed them, you could see a Sergeant Bee among them. Of course, a single sting was still not fatal. However, even one sting could cause fainting and paralytic effects for several minutes, with an additional effect that left the target awake.

While conscious, the sufferer would be unable to resist and be brought back to the hive, awake while being indulged in by the hungry mandibles of these many bees.

In other words, if Mint failed her task, she would have an experience more scary than death.

“But, I don’t need to hesitate”
“I don’t need to fight this horde.”
“I only need to support, not achieve victory.”
It was hard work, but her job was to have a plan for every situation.
“This, I do declare. You shall not pass!”

Mint was wearing her amber shawl, loaded with every piece of magic clasp she could find, such as the brooch located in the center of it.
This shawl alone was her trump card. It was also a cornerstone of her subduing of these bees

 

MEIKYUU TOSHI NO ANTIQUE SHOP// CHAPTER 10: A SMALL BARRETTE (2)

Fujiwara stifled a yawn.
After drinking coffee, his head was much clearer.
He was eager to fix his tarnished image after disgracefully falling asleep in front of Anemone and the two girls.
“Well.”
The Appraisal was done quickly.

Unfortunately, most of the items Soarer brought back were scrap iron with no better than Bastardized as the quality at the very best.
Most were corroded or broken by the dissolving slime mucus, so there’s no choice but labeling them as “Useless”.

Of the respectable items, there were only one long sword, one leather buckler, and three short swords.
The quality is decent, and everything is “Off The Mark”.
Of course since at this store they didn’t handle the weapons and only wrote up the certificates, there is a possibility that it could be bought for a high price at a weapons store.

“After that… This.”

The last item was left alone on the counter.
It was a small barrette.

It was mostly unhurt because it wasn’t metal, and Soarer had placed it in the bottom of the sack. Soarer hadn’t thought it was valuable and had just picked it up, somehow.

Fujiwara picked it up, observing it.

The material seemed to be a mineral composition called ‘Thunder Egg’, which wasn’t too uncommon.
A stunning design was cut across its cross-section, on the Barrette.
In the center it had of the egg-sized white agate, there were six semicircles of black onyx enshrined, and a red Sardonyx was cut on the thin edge. (tl: It’s a thin red stone which is a variant of onyx. Both have white lines going across them. To be clear, they mean the barrette hairclip, not the French hat.)

When Fujiwara fed the Barrette magic, the expected reaction occurred. Fine blue lines ran across the surface, running and spreading until it formed a pattern. Countless magical symbols configured.

“Hmm.”
Undoubtedly, it was a Granting Tool.
◆

“Oh dear child with the beloved hair, offer nine long chestnut hairs while rubbing this- The world will become animated, blooming and budding, like a petal of Aphrodite’s Orchid.” (tl: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/4/48/Boholflora7.jpg/1024px-Boholflora7.jpg)
Fujiwara deciphered the magic circuits, summarizing their contents.

Of course, it had the three main clauses.

“Qualification”, the ability to use the Tool. “Price”, the cost paid to activate it. “Compensation”, the magic phenomenon it creates.

The qualification was “Oh dear child with the beloved hair”, which was in this case a hairstyle of girls who had just gone through a rite of passage. This likely means only young women can use it, but it’d be nice if anyone could.

The “Price” was 9 chestnut hairs. To compensate for Granting Tools activation, sometime hair was used. The magic inside a strand of hair was thirty to one drop of blood, but the issue is you can’t use it after it’s missing, until it regrows. Some Granting Tools have adverse effects on hair, such as making it white. The “Chestnut” was very important. The other condition here is that the hair must be Chestnut to be offered, so if you don’t have it, it can’t be used.

Finally, the “Compensation”, which was “while rubbing this- The world will become animated, blooming and budding, like a petal of Aphrodite’s Orchid.” This request to the world is odd, but Fujiwara could understand that it’s meaning is that while you’re rubbing it, it would create a Magical Barrier. Magical Barriers is are like physical walls, but they are invisible to the naked eye.
Its strength was denoted by “petal of Aphrodite’s Orchid”. Thick Fairy Orchid petals can be used as bedding due to its softness, but it’s not stronger than a steel helmet even when layered and hardened.

Perhaps this was made by a parent for their child.
Worried that they couldn’t protect their own body, they left this to wear so they wouldn’t get injured. To be honest, this effect wasn’t very strong. But, it might be able to protect from a certain level of monster attacks.
However, the nonexistent weight of this armor makes it excellent. Thieves relied on the lightness of their equipment, so it’s a great item for an occupation such as Thief. As well, this is good for a Magician when the amount of magic they can use is limited.
Now, since it’s a Granting Tool, it will also be worth a large sum of money.

After all, when any Giving Tool is present, novice investigators would crave after them.

It’s not good to depend on them, but this could be called excellent loot, suitable to be acquired on the fifth floor of the Dungeon.

◆

“That was a fair amount of money.”
“Bad quality sword, it’s good we could sell it.”

Several accessories were at a price over Mr. Manager’s Appraisal. The scrap iron dissolved was also taken back and sold. It can be reused, so traders and smith bought such material. The Exploration gave a good income.

After Linne and Soarer went to “The Good Old Magician’s Shop”, they went to the shopping mall at the center of the city.
They went mainly to get back their consumable supply.
Soarer needed to buy a variety for the next Exploration.
She wanted healing potions, more herbs, and hopefully more supplies like painkiller. She also wanted more nutritious rations, hopefully something with a taste.
“It’s OK, though.”
She had managed to get some lee-way in their income.
Even if they bought things with higher quality than expected, it would be no problem.
But, there was one problem.

“Sure you don’t want this one, this one?”
Linne confirmed it for the umpteenth time. It was the one, intolerable item left in the bag.
What was so intolerable was the item in her hand. A Barrette with a small black petal pattern. Soarer once again declined it. Linne said “Even if Magicians can wear it, it’s a loss if it isn’t sold after all.”
“It’s through Linne that I even arrived at the sixth floor.”
“But, you can’t get through the third floor on your own, only with me. And didn’t Soarer knock down all the other monsters?”

It was not just a Barrette, but instead the Granting Tool, “Defense Barrette”.
If it was sold, it would make quite a lot of income, especially with its appearance.
Several months of luxury were possible if it were sold.

Since Linne had lived with her sister up until recently, Linne didn’t need money.
On the other hand, Soarer was renting a room alone in an inn and had left the home long ago.
Even though it likely wasn’t too bad, Linne found that sort of life slightly severe. Linne wanted to ensure Soarer had extra money, even if only a little.

“Well, lend it to me a little.”

Soarer held out a hand, and Linne was relieved, handing the Barrette over.
Finally, she had decided to sell it.
“The Good Old Magician’s Shop” wasn’t far away either, it wouldn’t be hard to sell it off.

But, Soarer promptly went behind Linne and began making up her hair.
“…Hold still, Linne.”
“Oh…Well…Shouldn’t you”
“When talking to Linne, I became much more happy.”
“…”
“…It’s a lot of fun fighting with you in a party and becoming familiar with you, so when this was found… It became possible to say my thanks, finally.”
“Soarer-chan”
“It’s been good. The Barrette suits you so much.”
“…Thank you.”

Soarer said as much. Now that they had, Linne couldn’t bear to remove it and sell it.
Linne felt sorry, but decided to be obedient.

Linne held out a hand, instead.
“Now, I’ll also thank you.”

“Yeah. Let’s work hard to capture the sixth floor.”
Soarer grabbed Linne’s hand, holding it.

In her other hand, Linne held a city map. On it were marked weapon shops and armorers, which she had noted while getting advice from her elder sister.
She decided to go to those now.
“-You’re not on your own, thinking how good it was to meet”, she thought.

It may not be possible to return the Barrette, but Linne decided to work hard for Soarer at least.

The two people walked along the sidewalk , holding hands under the warm sunlight.
◆

“Oh… Why did those biscuits look so poisonous?”
“It was baked in that Tavern.”
“Ha?”
“They’re quite good when you eat them, like so.”

Fujiwara again looked at the dish on the counter. The biscuits were unusually heaped up, each with a different primary color.
While it couldn’t be said they smelled repugnant, they were not fragrant. However, Fujiwara was quite hungry.
Fujiwara picked one up, cautiously asking

“This red one?”

“Covered in a great deal of Tabasco.”
“Green one?”
“Jalepeno.”
“Blue one?”
“It’s mint.”
“And this black one?”
“It’s just pepper.”
“…”
“Oh, what happened? You don’t want to eat?

These biscuits had all been favorably reviewed by Seekers at that certain Tavern.
They seemed to be used to avoid drowsiness or confusion, or as a punishment game to kill time…

◆

Discrimination Ticket “Defense Berrette (Off The Mark)”
“Oh dear child with the beloved hair, offer nine long chestnut hairs while rubbing this- The world will become animated, blooming and budding, like a petal of Aphrodite’s Orchid.”

The Spring Aphrodite’s Orchid is famous for its inclusion in the children’s play, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and it is used as a descriptor in this circuit. In the “Supreme Magician’s Era”, this play described sprites running amuck in the King’s Castle, later changing the petals of this orchid into a huge shield to help the small prince who was chased by the Fairy Queen into a flower garden.
Much like the story, perhaps this Granting Tool was made to protect a small child, which is also evident from analysis of the Magic Circuit, which isn’t even left with a signature, clearly sincerely made for only one person.
Unfortunately, the effects of the magic barrier are likely less effective than the story mentioned prior. The relative strength of the shield should be about that of a steel helmet, but it should be able to stop a simple club or a small goblin hitting with full force. Good for Magicians and Thieves.

.