As the sun slanted westward, Klein Moretti left the Blackthorn Security Company. Carrying a hefty sum of twelve pounds, Klein felt spirited and exuberant.
Since he had no small change for the public carriage, the newly enriched Mr. Klein decided on a bit of retaliatory spending: he would buy the cheapest cane from a roadside hat shop, breaking his large gold pound into smaller coins through this purchase.
"This really is a problem only the rich would have," thought Klein, long accustomed to poverty.
"It makes perfect sense, though. Otherwise, how do wealthy people with only large notes manage to ride public carriages?" Of course, Klein knew that most rich folk owned private carriages. But that didn't stop him from imagining this world's version of "let them eat cake."
Secretly mocking the wealthy in his heart, Klein stepped into a shop called Vilkell's Hats & Apparel.
The store's layout resembled clothing shops from before his transmigration: to the left, a row of suits; in the center, shirts, trousers, waistcoats, and ties; to the right, polished shoes and boots displayed behind glass.
There weren't many customers, only a few scattered about. So the moment Klein entered, a waiter in a white shirt and red vest came forward to greet him. There was no trace of the cliché where shop attendants sneer at the protagonist upon entry.
This was likely because, while Klein's outfit wasn't formal, it was neat and respectable enough. At least he didn't look like an early urban-novel protagonist barging into stores dressed like a beggar and pawing everything.
After hearing Klein's request, the polite waiter guided him to the corner where walking sticks were displayed.
At that moment, a man and a woman were already there, conversing. Though both appeared adult, Klein couldn't shake the feeling they were schoolchildren who had yet to graduate grammar school.
From a distance, he couldn't hear their words, as they had lowered their voices out of courtesy. He only saw the man gesturing with his hands, while the girl occasionally swung a cane like she was playing Emperor Roselle's recently invented game of golf.
These two were none other than Stelle and Sairuis, who had split up earlier only to converge again thanks to the Law of Abstract Attraction.
This principle, proposed by the great Aeon Of Elation, Aha, claimed that when two or more "abstract weirdos" with unusual thought patterns were present in the same crowd, they would inevitably attract and converge. Furthermore, once gathered, there was a chance one would evolve into a "Master of Ideas."
"I think we should get ourselves a jeep," Stelle suggested.
Sairuis immediately caught her drift. "This is a cane. A cane is not the same as a crutch."
"What's the difference? They look about the same. Who says a cane can't be used as a crutch?"
"But there aren't any jeeps here. Only carriages." Sairuis's words dealt a brutal blow, shattering Xing's fantasy.
A crutch-person without a jeep-beast? Unthinkable! It was as absurd as imagining an Ultra-Beast with a sense of pain.
[Wait, I have an idea. Maybe we can name the carriage horse 'Jeep.']
"Ha! You genius!" Sairuis's eyes lit up, overjoyed.
Wonderful! He could finally drive a jeep to smash—
No, wait. He realized with horror: the cane was in Stelle's hands. She was the crutch-person. He'd be the one getting smashed!
[Hehe, that's exactly what I want to see! Charge the jeep!]
"No! I don't get it!"
"What's with that face? Those eyes? Those tears? Don't just stand there—charge the jeep!" Stelle chimed in, egging him on.
...
As for why they appeared in this shop—
"There's a treasure chest in here."
That was what Stelle had said minutes earlier, when she stopped at the cane rack in the corner and dug out an old, battered box. Inside was a very plain-looking cane.
[Looks like a discarded piece, abandoned before it could be decorated.]
[But is that really so?]
[Would you admit it? That being different from convention makes you a failure? Would you accept such a fate?]
"I don't accept it," Stelle declared firmly, her words striking like iron.
[Exactly! That's it!]
[This is a raw gem brimming with infinite potential, waiting for your hand to sculpt it.]
[Take it, embark on your journey, carve it with your experiences, adorn it with your achievements, and one day it shall become the most dazzling jewel.]
Hugging the cane, Stelle proclaimed it to be the first piece of equipment she had obtained after "opening a chest" in this world—akin to a novice hero acquiring a "rusty sword" upon leaving the starter village.
Sairuis, finding this reasoning flawless, spent 1 soli and 5 pence under the waiter's perplexed gaze to buy this "rusty sword."
Stelle adored it, christening it the "Edgeless Sword."
[This is the true meaning of travel! Maybe you should dye your hair blonde now.]
...
After paying, Sairuis and Stelle passed by Klein, who was testing the balance of a cane. Klein glanced up absentmindedly—and his gaze froze on the mask hanging from Sairuis's belt under his coat. It looked almost identical to the one depicted on the flyers for the tavern "The End of the World."
"The Masked Fool."
The words flashed through Klein's mind, his eyes flickering with thought.
He had suspected the Devil's identity was linked to that mask. Now, seeing Sairuis's physique and comparing it with the figure he had glimpsed above the gray fog, Klein grew even more certain: this man walking away was most likely the Devil.
Though Klein would never pry into the identities of Tarot Club members, if one happened to appear before him, he wouldn't force himself to ignore the thought either.
"Please, sir, calm down. Take it easy—we can still negotiate the price."
The waiter's nervous voice pulled Klein back. He now realized that he had been swinging the cane vigorously to test its feel, and his intense gaze following the departing pair must have looked like he was about to bash someone.
Awkwardly forcing a polite smile, Klein indicated he was satisfied with the cane priced at 7 soli and 6 pence. With a pang of heartache at the cost, he paid and quickly left.
Behind him, the shop attendant stretched out a hand, wanting Klein to linger a moment longer—at least until the two customers he had been "watching" had gone.
In the end, he didn't dare speak up.
(End of Chapter)