Gauss walked out of the Adventurer's Hall.
He turned and headed to the blacksmith shop also located in the square.
Gauss was here to sell his spoils and purchase equipment.
The wooden spear was broken, and during that battle earlier, he felt that in the state of Thought Acceleration, the long wooden spear was not very handy, so he planned to pick out a new weapon at the blacksmith shop.
This was a noticeably dark stone building with a sign reading "Black Anvil Workshop." Even before Gauss approached, he could feel the air temperature rising by several degrees.
The Black Anvil Workshop was tucked away in a corner of the square, rather inconspicuous.
But Gauss knew this was the best blacksmith shop in all of Gray Rock Town; none of the other workshops compared.
Gauss had come to this judgment because when he first arrived in the town, he worked here as a temporary odd-job man for a period.
He noticed that occasionally, adventurers who seemed quite formidable at first glance would come here to buy equipment.
Of course, the majority of the customers were still Bottom Adventurers.
Besides providing elite weapons and armor, Black Anvil Workshop also offered many affordable weapons made by blacksmith apprentices and some second-hand recycled weapons.
These weapons were fairly priced but not lacking in quality; they were adequate for ordinary adventurers.
Gauss had hesitated about visiting here for his first weapon purchase a few days ago, but ultimately, his empty wallet made him dismiss the thought.
He walked into the shop.
The Black Anvil Workshop was divided into two parts, front and back, and the layout inside was similar to when he worked here before.
In the store area, the display shelves were filled with many standardized finished products, while the forging area in the back was a busy outdoor courtyard where the sound of hammering kept ringing out.
"Customer, have a look at whatever you need."
The one attending him was a male apprentice, with a face covered in freckles and nothing remarkable in appearance.
Coincidentally, Gauss had memories of him, barely counting as a nodding acquaintance.
"Marlin, long time no see," Gauss greeted proactively.
The blacksmith apprentice, Marlin, upon hearing Gauss's voice, raised his eyes to scan him up and down a few times.
After initial confusion, when he noticed those beautiful emerald green eyes, he suddenly seemed to recall something and exclaimed loudly.
"Oh! You're... you're! You're?"
He recognized Gauss's identity but suddenly couldn't remember his name, his face gradually showing a hint of embarrassment.
"Gauss," Gauss prompted. "It's a shame I remember your name, Marlin."
"Can't be helped; I have to attend so many customers every day. What's strange about forgetting names?" Marlin laughed heartily, reaching out to pat Gauss's shoulder.
"Hey, why are you dressed like this today? Not a Hunter anymore?"
Gauss, even though all his equipment was worn out, clearly did not resemble a Hunter.
Moreover, Marlin, accustomed to dealing with various adventurers, could somewhat detect that dusty, weary aura unique to adventurers.
Clearly, in Marlin's eyes, Gauss now embodied the most typical image of a Bottom Adventurer.
"Yes," Gauss nodded. "I registered as an adventurer not long ago."
"Tsk... I envy you. My family won't agree to let me become an adventurer." Upon Gauss's confirmation, Marlin immediately showed a bitter expression.
Gauss chuckled; he indeed had memories of Marlin complaining about his parents.
Unlike Gauss, who drifted around aimlessly like tumbleweed, Marlin was a native of Gray Rock Town.
His parents had spent some effort to send him as an apprentice to the Black Anvil Workshop.
They hoped he could learn a bit of the craft to become a qualified blacksmith.
In this era, being a blacksmith was a lifelong guaranteed occupation.
In many people's minds, being a blacksmith was far more respectable than a Bottom Adventurer who rushed around risking life and limb for a living.
However, Marlin was a somewhat restless young man and naturally couldn't understand his parents' intentions.
He was currently filled with anticipation for adventures involving swords and magic, thinking such a life was carefree—walking with companions through golden waves of wheat, laughing and talking, slaying monsters, earning commissions, and sampling various cuisines and fine wines in taverns at different villages and towns.
An interesting life should be so leisurely and passionate, rather than being trapped before a small stove, spending his dull days with a hammer and pliers.
This idea wasn't entirely wrong but was limited in accuracy.
Marlin's image of an adventurer was mostly of professional adventurers who naturally had colorful adventure lives.
But the vast majority of Bottom Adventurers? Gauss used to be unsure.
Now, having personally experienced it, he understood Marlin would likely not enjoy such an adventurer's life.
Struggling amid severed limbs, exposed to the elements, plagued daily by insect bites, constantly on guard against life threats from the wilderness, and facing the unknown in the vast wasteland, producing an existential loneliness within the soul.
Even in the short two days traveling from Birch Village back to Gray Rock Town, Gauss felt it deeply.
Were the adventurer's life longer—a week, several months, half a year—that loneliness would likely become more severe.
No wonder adventurers liked forming teams.
It's hard for the average person to withstand that invisible pressure alone.
Although just for a brief moment, numerous thoughts flashed through Gauss's mind.
But he didn't intend to preach to Marlin or explain the feelings involved.
He just showed a slightly meaningful smile.
"I guess you wouldn't like the Adventurer's life."
"Tch, you guy, looking down on people again, huh? If even you can be an Adventurer, how could I not make it?" Marlin said defiantly.
Marlin was secretly saving money, planning to gather enough to buy a set of equipment and then formally register at the Guild.
Gauss didn't know his inner thoughts and brought up the main topic.
"By the way, no more chit-chat. I'm here today to sell some loot, could you see how much it's worth?"
Gauss placed a large bag of equipment with a "thud" on the stone table.
"Let me see, oh wow, there's quite a lot. But I can't make the decision about the buyback." Marlin opened the backpack and was startled by the amount inside.
Although the quality looked average, he didn't expect Gauss to bring out so much equipment.
"Where did you get so much loot? Picked it up?" Marlin muttered and then turned to the backyard to call the owner of the blacksmith shop.
The owner of the blacksmith shop, Gron Bates, was a burly man over six feet tall.
As he came out, he was holding a gigantic forging hammer.
He wore a pitch-black hardened leather apron in front to shield against stray sparks and fragments. Despite being secured with a wide belt around his waist, the apron couldn't conceal the exceptionally muscular chest and abs beneath.
With short black hair, an expressionless face, and a black eye patch covering his left eye, only his right eye, as large as a copper bell, was visible.
Gron Bates looked more like a formidable Warrior than a blacksmith.
That was also the town's speculation, though it hadn't been confirmed.
However, his outstanding forging and smelting skills were recognized by Adventurers.
"It's you, Gauss."
Contrary to his rough appearance, Gron Bates was a well-spoken person.
When Gauss first arrived in town, looking for a temporary job, it was Gron who accepted him, even though he didn't have any skills related to blacksmithing at the time.
Although Gauss didn't stay long in the blacksmith shop before leaving, he still felt grateful to Gron Bates.
"Long time no see, Manager Gron."
"I heard from Marlin that you've come to sell loot?" Gron Bates glanced at the assortment of equipment on the table.
He still had some impression of Gauss, who was hardworking and had quite a sturdy body.
The only pity was that he couldn't afford the tuition to become a formal apprentice.
For his employees in the workshop, Gron had to treat everyone equally and couldn't make an exception for him. Otherwise, it would be unfair to the other formal apprentices.
"Yes. It was scavenged from a group of goblins."
"I didn't expect even you to become an Adventurer." Gron sighed.
Clearly, he didn't think being an Adventurer was a good Profession.
He had seen too many Bottom Adventurers die in the wild.
"Times are getting tougher and tougher..." he sighed while examining the equipment on the table.
The worse the times, the more Adventurers there were. In peaceful eras, more people would become scholars, artisans, bureaucrats, and employees.
He remembered when he was young, there weren't so many Adventurers.
But now, in the town, the proportion of Adventurers was reaching thirty or forty percent.
Even in Gray Rock Town, an important transit town for Adventurers, this proportion was still too high.
"You can be considered an Adventurer coming out of our blacksmith shop. I'll make the decision to give you an extra ten percent for this equipment."
"This machete, the material is ordinary, but the tempering technique is decent. It's worth 25 Silver Coins, but it's a pity it hasn't been maintained well, or it could sell for a few more Silver Coins."
"This short blade is too damaged and can no longer be sold as a second-hand weapon. It can only be used as smelting iron, and the price won't be too high..."
Gron quickly took stock of the metal items on the table.
"Altogether, it's 36 Silver Coins. Does that seem fair to you?"
Gauss thought for a moment, felt it was reasonable, and nodded.
He had a rough idea of the selling price for second-hand weapons. Considering that the Black Anvil Workshop had to process them before reselling them as products, the price was quite fair.
He also planned to sell that machete. His strength was average, and swinging it a few times tired him out, so it wasn't suitable for him.
"By the way, Manager Gron. Do you know what this thing is?"
Gauss took out a green stone from his pocket.