Ahrie and Min waved each other off, heading in opposite directions.
"Bye, fucker."
"Yeah, yeah. See ya."
Ahrie wandered the streets until he found an inn.
A room. A bed. Finally, rest.
Morning came.
He sat up, staring at his worn-out gear.
Tapped his light armor pads—
Crumble.
"Damn…"
He sighed, brushing the dust off his hands.
Time for a new set.
Ahrie headed to the nearest blacksmith.
The place was hot, loud, and smelled like burnt metal.
His eyes caught on a sleek display — black light armor, black cape, matching sword.
"Damn… that's cool." He muttered, touching the fabric
"How much for this?"
"For that set? Around five hundred bronze," the blacksmith said without looking up.
Ahrie froze. His coin pouch felt suddenly lighter. His soul almost left his body.
"W-where's your… cheap side?" he asked, voice cracking under despair.
The blacksmith raised an eyebrow, then pointed lazily to the corner.
Ahrie trudged off like a man walking to his own funeral.
