Kael woke up. He stepped out of the inn, the morning sun warming his face. He adjusted the massive burlap sack slung over his shoulder—a sack that, if he was being honest, looked like it belonged to a deranged holiday spirit rather than an up-and-coming interdimensional merchant.
The moment he entered, a small bell jingled above the door.
THUD.
The sack hit the floor with a sound like a dying mammoth.
Lirra, the rabbit-eared shopkeeper, was halfway up a ladder, organizing a shelf of suspiciously labeled potions. She turned, blinked at the sack, then at Kael.
"You—" she pointed at the sack, then at him, then back again—"did you rob a noble's laundry?"
"It's my trade secret," he said with a grin. "So... wanna buy them or what?"
Kael had brought these from Martha's house. Since Martha lived mostly alone, she had a lot of clothes at home. Also, most of the clothes here were her deceased husband's, her granddaughter's, and all the old clothes she and her son had.
Lirra cautiously peeled open the sack, as if expecting it to explode. Out tumbled faded jeans, flannel shirts, polka-dot dresses, and a sweater that might've been knitted by someone with a grudge against fashion.
"These aren't just old," she said, picking up a scarf with a questionable smell. "They're prehistoric. Did you mug a ghost?"
Kael chuckled. "You joke, but one of those shirts might be haunted. Adds value."
"I'll give you 25 silver."
Kael staggered backward like she'd shot him. "Twenty-five?! Lirra, these are vintage. This is curated decay. Look at this texture! This... gritty elegance!"
She dropped the vest. "But they're not premium stock. That's mold."
"Artisanal mold."
"28 silver. Final offer."
Kael sighed, pretending to wipe a tear. "You drive a hard bargain, my emotionally detached friend."
"I try."
As she handed over the coins, Kael leaned against the counter. "Hey, Lirra. Hypothetically—if I wanted to start a different kind of business, how would I go about it?"
Lirra's ears perked up. "Getting bored of adventuring already?"
"Not bored. Just… diversifying. Got to build that passive income."
"You'll need a trade permit. Town hall handles that. It is located in the center of the city. It will cost you 50 copper to register. The cost of the shop is different. If you want to do a big business, the cost will increase even more."
"I'll start small. But thanks, seriously."
"Just promise you're not gonna try to steal my customers," she said, mock-glowering.
Kael smirked. "Don't worry. My business plan is top secret. You'll know... when you see."
Kael then got out of the shop. He set off towards the town hall. The street was crowded with people.
Kael was very happy because he had earned 28 silver without making any investment, which was equivalent to $280.
Then—
Bump.
A girl collided with him. "Oops! Sorry, mister!" she said sweetly.
"No worries," Kael replied.
But as she bolted away, he patted his coat... and froze. "Wait. My coin pouch."
He looked up.
She had vanished into the crowd.
"HEY!"
People turned. The girl looked back. Their eyes locked.
She bolted.
Kael narrowed his eyes. "Oh hell no. You don't steal from a Lancaster."
He gave chase, weaving through carts, over fruit stands, past a goat, and almost tackled a chicken.
The girl dove into an alley. Kael followed—only to skid to a stop when three men stepped out of the shadows.
One had a knife. One had muscles and no shirt. The third just looked like he regretted life in general.
"Problem, outsider?" Knife Guy sneered.
Kael dusted off his coat. "Yeah. Your little apprentice stole my coins."
Knife Guy chuckled. "So what're you gonna do about it? You were a fool to come this far."
"Hmph! I wanted to run away with some money from you, but since you've come this far like a loser, then give us all your money now," the girl said.
"Now give us all of your stuff and maybe we won't feed you to the rats," Thug 2 said.
Kael reached into his coat. "See, here's the thing."
BZZZT.
Knife Guy's smirk died as the stun gun kissed his ribs. His body convulsed like a fish on a dock before he crumpled.
Silence.
Muscle Guy blinked. "What the hell was—?"
Kael kicked his knee sideways. The man howled, toppling into a pile of trash.
The third guy threw up his hands. "Dude, I was just here for emotional support!"
Kael pistol-whipped him gently. "Support this."
A few minutes later:
Thug 1: Face-down. Possibly reevaluating life choices.
Thug 2: Holding an ice pack made of questionable alley slush.
Thug 3: Crying, quietly.
Pickpocket Girl: Sitting on a crate, pouting.
Kael dusted off his coat. "Right. Let's settle accounts."
The girl crossed her arms. "I gave your stupid money back! What else do you want?"
Kael pointed at her. "Everything you stole today."
"What?! That's not fair!"
Kael crouched, face inches from hers. "Sweetheart. You picked me. That's like trying to mug a bear wearing body armor."
Grumbling, she tossed him a small pouch.
Kael weighed it in his hand. Not bad. He eyed Thug 2. "Nice earrings."
Thug 2 winced. "They're from my mom."
"They're ugly. Hand them over."
Reluctantly, the man pulled them off. Kael pocketed them.
Then Kael's smile vanished. He grabbed the girl by the ear—not hard, but firm—and said, "And you. If you try that stunt again, I'm not just taking your coins. I'm charging interest."
She flailed. "Ow! Okay, okay! Please leave us now!"
The leader, finally regaining motor function, wheezed, "You're a monster."
Kael crouched down to his level. "And you're a terrible criminal. If you're gonna steal, at least be good at it." He stood, dusting off his pants. "Oh, and if I see you again?" He flashed the stun gun. "I'm keeping your teeth."
They didn't follow.
Back on the street, Kael adjusted his coat. It was a bit heavier now—coins, earrings, and the satisfying weight of personal vengeance.
He counted the coins in the pouch he had received from the girl.
15 silver, 10 bronze, and 50 copper coins.
Not bad for a morning walk.
He reached the town hall, a building so obnoxiously fancy it looked like it charged rent just to look at it. Marble pillars.
Kael smirked. "Alright, time to get legit."