The inn room wasn't anything fancy—two beds pushed against opposite walls, a small wooden table between them with two mismatched chairs, and a single bathroom door tucked to the left. The faint smell of lavender soap lingered in the air, mixed with the faint scent of ale from downstairs.
David immediately dropped onto the right bed and threw his hands behind his head. "I call dibs."
Daryl, walking in after him, raised an eyebrow. "It seems I'll be taking the left bed then."
He sat down neatly, removed his saber from his belt, and pulled out a small napkin.
David tilted his head. "Uh… Daryl, what are you doing?"
Daryl glanced over, expression flat. "What does it look like I'm doing, Master Hawk? I'm cleaning my saber."
David frowned. "But it's not even dirty."
"I know," Daryl said calmly, rubbing the blade anyway. "Dirty or not, I'll always clean it. A dull weapon leads to a dull death."
David blinked. "That's… dark."
Daryl didn't look up. "So is being unprepared."
David sighed and leaned forward, clapping his hands. "Alright, alright. Now for the plan I have."
Daryl side-eyed him, skeptical. "And what is your so-called plan, Mr. Hawk?"
David grinned mischievously. "Simple. My plan—now, you might not like this because you're all morally upright and heroic—but I plan on scamming people."
Before David could finish his dramatic explanation, Daryl said calmly, "How much are we making?"
David froze. "Wait—you're fine with it?"
"I'm against killing innocents without reason," Daryl said, folding his napkin and resting his saber on his lap. "But scamming? I don't particularly care. If people fall for it, that's on them. However—" he raised a finger "—if I'm going to be part of it, I expect payment."
David's grin turned sharp, almost devilish. "Oh, don't worry, my loyal protector… you'll be getting paid."
He paused, tapping his chin. "Wait a minute—what about Jonathan, Orange, and NJ? Are they still around?"
"No," Daryl said. "They left earlier. Orange and NJ joined a dungeon expedition, and Jonathan was called to meet the Queen."
David blinked. "Queen? I thought she died."
Daryl looked genuinely baffled. "What? No, she's very much alive. Who told you such ridiculous nonsense?"
David scratched his head. "Oh—uh, wrong queen. My bad." He shrugged. "But wait, they never paid me!"
Daryl gave him a look. "You're planning to scam more people, aren't you? You already got fifty coins from that old man and his donkey."
David burst out laughing. "Hahaha, oh man, that was too funny. His face when I sold him that 'enchanted cane'—priceless!"
Daryl sighed, wiping his saber again. "And I'm still curious about this 'inventory' you keep mentioning."
David blinked, then suddenly froze. "Inventory…?" He looked up as if trying to remember something. "Ohhhhhh shiiit—I forgot about that!"
He quickly summoned the holographic menu. "Let's see what we've got here."
Inventory:
Goblin Knife (Worn)
Old Pouch (4 Coins)
[Empty Slot] × 3
David frowned. "Damn, that's it? Just a knife and a few coins?"
Daryl leaned back. "Considering your luck, I'm shocked you haven't accidentally sold your soul yet."
David ignored him, scanning the room with a squint. "Wait a second…" He looked around frantically. "Oh no. No no no no—where is he?"
Daryl raised a brow. "What's wrong, Master Hawk?"
"Sticky!" David yelled, darting around the room like a madman. "I can't find Sticky!"
Daryl blinked slowly, then pointed toward the table. "He's right there."
David turned—and there it was. His trusty slime-covered stick sat quietly on the table, gleaming faintly in the light.
"Oh my god, Sticky!" David rushed over, scooping it up like a lost pet. "How did I not see you? I thought I lost you!"
Daryl watched with mild disbelief. "You treat that thing like it's your child."
David smiled faintly. "He's my friend. My partner. He reminds me of my puppy that… passed away." His voice softened. "Sticky's all I've got left of that feeling."
Daryl's face gentled. "I'm sorry for your loss."
David nodded. "Thanks. He was basically my only friend." He ran a thumb across the stick's smooth surface. "And now, in a weird way, Sticky's kinda like him."
Daryl leaned back in his chair. "I'm not one to judge who you befriend. You didn't judge me, after all."
David looked up at him with a small smile—and right above Daryl's head, a faint hologram flickered:
[Relationship Score: -81 → -67]
David grinned quietly.
Daryl noticed the expression and frowned. "Why are you smiling like a creep?"
David blinked. "Eh? Oh, nothing. Just… thinking." He stood up, stretching. "Anyway, I think it's time we—"
He stopped mid-sentence as his gaze drifted out the window. Below, the streets were bustling—merchants calling out, kids running by, and among them… a cowgirl with a quest icon glowing faintly above her head.
David's eyes sparkled with greed. "Daryl."
Daryl sighed, already sensing disaster. "What now?"
David pointed dramatically at the window. "We're going outside. Now now now."
Daryl blinked. "Why—"
Before he could finish, David grabbed him by the arm. "No time to explain!"
And just like that, the door slammed open, echoing down the hall as David dragged a very unamused Daryl into yet another one of his chaotic schemes.
David dragged Daryl by the arm through the bustling streets, weaving past merchants, drunks, and stray chickens until they spotted her—the cow girl. She stood by the quest board, kicking a pebble, frustration all over her face.
David waved one arm like he'd just spotted a long-lost friend. "Hey! You—Miss Cow Girl!"
The woman turned around sharply. Her big amber eyes widened, recognition flashing across her face.
"Y–You… it's you!" she stammered. "You're Hawk Mather!"
David smirked, brushing invisible dust off his jacket. "Ah, so you've heard of me." He turned to Daryl, flashing a smug grin.
Daryl rolled his eyes. "This ought to be good."
The cow girl crossed her arms, tail flicking behind her. "Heard of you? Yeah, everyone's heard of you. You're that bum who caused trouble in three taverns last month! You're a drunk, a gambler, and an asshole!"
David's grin dropped instantly, his whole face turning into a blank stare of pain. "Ouch… right in the pride."
Daryl smirked. "Wow, totally didn't see that coming."
David looked like his soul left his body. "No need to rub it in, Daryl."
He quickly refocused and glanced up at the floating text above her head:
[Quest: Help Mistay Slay the Monsters in the Northern Fields]
Reward: 20 Coins
David grinned slyly. "Hey there, Mistay."
The cow girl blinked. "H–How do you know my name?"
David leaned in with a charming, cocky smirk. "How could I not know the name of such a fine creature?"
Mistay's face went red, and she stepped back, flustered. "W–What are you saying!?"
Daryl, not missing the opportunity, added smoothly, "Indeed, Miss Mistay. Your elegant horns, your silky cow-patterned hair, and your refined attire are truly captivating."
Mistay squeaked, covering her face with both hands, her long brown-and-white hair swaying. "Oh my, you two flatter me so much!"
David and Daryl shared a quick glance—David winked, Daryl sighed—but they both knew they had her interest now.
David straightened his jacket. "Anyway, we're here to help you fight those monsters!"
Mistay's eyes sparkled. "You are!?"
Daryl blinked. "We are?"
David waved him off. "Of course we are! And uh…" He glanced up again, spotting the quest reward. "And I bet you're gonna pay us twenty coins for it, right?"
Mistay gasped. "How did you know!? It's like you're a god!"
David smirked. "That's because… I am one."
Daryl muttered under his breath, "Yeah, the god of stupidity."
Mistay tilted her head, still unsure. "Wait a minute… why would you, of all people, help me?"
Daryl chimed in, deadpan. "That's what I'd like to know."
David coughed dramatically, putting on his fake heroic voice. "Because I believe in helping those in need… and because I want your money."
Mistay blinked. "Oh…"
David smirked wider. "But—" He raised a finger. "In the last fifteen seconds, I decided to ask for a different reward."
Her tail flicked curiously. "But… all I have is money."
David grinned. "Don't worry. I don't want your money anymore. I'll tell you what I want after we finish your quest."
Mistay frowned, confused. "Wait, quest? What quest?"
"I mean your request!" David said quickly, waving his hands. "Haha, you know, your monster problem!"
Daryl stepped forward, rubbing his temple. "One moment, Miss Mistay." He leaned close to David and whispered, "Are you sure about this? I thought we were scamming, not doing people's chores."
David whispered back, "Trust me. This quest will help us with the bigger scam. Just go along with it."
Daryl sighed. "Every time you say 'trust me,' I regret it."
David patted his shoulder. "That's the spirit."
They turned back to Mistay, both smiling in sync—David all confidence, Daryl all sarcasm.
"Alright, Miss Mistay," David said cheerfully. "Lead the way!"
Mistay smiled brightly, her eyes lighting up with hope. "Really!? Oh, thank you so much! Follow me!"
As she turned around, her tail swished side to side, her boots clacking against the cobblestone. Her outfit—a brown leather corset with white straps, shorts, and a cow-patterned shawl—fluttered slightly in the breeze. Her horns were small but perfectly curved, and her cheeks had a faint pink tint that matched her bashful personality.
David leaned over to Daryl as they walked. "So… what do you think?"
Daryl groaned. "I think you're going to get us both killed over a cow woman and twenty coins."
David grinned. "Correction: I'm gonna get us both rich over a cow woman and twenty coins."
Daryl sighed deeply. "Same thing in your head, isn't it?"
David nodded proudly. "Exactly."
And with that, the two idiots followed the blushing cow girl toward the edge of town—unaware that the "monster problem" waiting for them wasn't going to be as simple as they thought.