"Where did you get this?" Helga demanded, her voice low and dangerous. She stepped toward me, her massive "assets" practically vibrating with suspicion. "A beggar boy from the slums does not carry a tool that makes the Royal Smiths look like toddlers."
I put on my best "innocent orphan" face, though my heart was doing 120 beats per minute. "I... I made it, Mistress. Back in the slums. I found some strange scrap metal in a meteor crater and spent weeks filing it down with a stone. I didn't know it was a 'relic.' It's just how I fix things."
"You made this?" Varis breathed, looking at me like I was a reincarnated god of the forge. "Young man, do you have any idea what this is worth? A tool that can manipulate the smallest mechanisms of enchanted weaponry without breaking?"
"I'd imagine... a few silver?" I guessed, playing dumb.
"Silver?!" Varis laughed manically. "I would give you a hundred gold pieces right now just for the right to borrow it for a week!"
My brain short-circuited. A hundred gold? That was enough to buy a small house in this city. It was enough to buy... a lot of Venus Points.
I felt Helga's hand heavy on my shoulder. She wasn't angry anymore. She was looking at me like I was a golden goose that had just walked into her kitchen.
"It seems," Helga purred, her red lips curling into a predatory smile, "that my little clerk is a lot more 'unique' than I thought. Lord Varis, shall we discuss a 'consultation fee' for Arthur's services?"
I stood there, holding my breath. I had a Divine Relic in my pocket and the most powerful merchant in the district eyeing me like a steak dinner.
Venus, I thought, you might be a scammer, but your Amazon Prime delivery is top-tier.
But my brain remembered my fear…
The moment Mistress Helga's hand landed on my shoulder, my survival instincts didn't just scream—they pulled the fire alarm and headed for the emergency exit.
The scent of her musk-and-rose perfume hit me like a chemical weapon. I could feel the warmth of her palm through my tunic, and my brain immediately began to loop a "404 Error: Oxygen Not Found." I wasn't just shaking; I was vibrating at a frequency that probably could have shattered nearby glassware.
"Are you okay, boy?" Helga asked, her brow furrowing as she looked down at me. "You're vibrating like a trapped hummingbird."
"Mistress..." I wheezed, my face turning a shade of violet that was frankly alarming. "Please... personal space. Phobia. Touch... bad. Hives... imminent. Fainting... loading..."
Lord Varis let out a booming laugh that rattled the shields on the walls. "By Venus! The lad is a master artificer but he's terrified of a woman's touch? That's a cosmic tragedy right there!"
The rest of the patrons joined in, thinking it was some elaborate, quirky bit. But Helga saw my eyes rolling back and the way my knees were clicking together like castanets. She jumped back as if I'd suddenly caught fire. "What the demon's name is wrong with you? I'm not going to eat you, child! Well... not today, anyway."
"I... I apologize," I gasped, finally sucking in air. "I'm a country mouse. I'm not used to... contact."
Varis smirked and gave me a conspiratorial wink. "Don't worry, lad. We'll make a man of you eventually. But for now, let's focus on that marvelous little silver jaw of yours."
I was breathing so hard, like I'd run a marathon.
Helga, however ever the opportunist, didn't let the moment go to waste. She stepped into the center of the shop, her yellow dress rustling like a field of sunflowers in a gale. "Listen up, everyone! If you want your gear tuned by the Divine Needle,"—she'd already given my pliers a brand name, because of course she did—" it will cost you one silver coin for a minor adjustment! No exceptions!"
A collective gasp went up. One silver was a lot for a commoner, but for these adventurers? It was the price of a few beers. However, I saw a few guys in the back eying my pocket with the kind of greasy greed that usually precedes a mugging.
Lord Varis noticed it too. He leaned in, his mana-cloak humming. "A word of advice, boy. Keep that relic chained to your soul. There are men in this district who would cut your throat for a rusted iron spoon, let alone a Divine Tool. And Helga," he barked at my mistress, "employ more guards! If this lad dies of starvation or a knife in the dark, you lose the golden goose."
Helga's eyes lit up with the fire of a thousand profit margins. "You're right, Lord Varis! Barnaby, Herbert! From now on, you're his shadows. If so much as a fly bites him, I'll have your hides!"
Then, she turned to me with a smile that was actually... kind? "Arthur, you're moving out of that barn-closet. There's an apartment upstairs. Kitchen, washroom, and a real bed. And you'll eat three meals a day from my own table. I can't have my best asset looking like a walking skeleton."
For the first time I smiled, genuinely smiled.
****
The rest of the day was a blur of clicking steel and gasping customers. I fixed a jammed crossbow, a bent dagger hilt, and even adjusted a noblewoman's enchanted corset stays (which I did while looking strictly at the ceiling and trembling like a leaf). By noon, the "Divine Needle" was the talk of the district.
When lunch finally rolled around, Herbert brought me a tray. I stared at it, my eyes welling up.
It wasn't dry bread and salt-water. It was a thick slice of soft, white bread, a slab of grilled meat dripping with fat, a bowl of fresh, sweet grapes, a single sugar-dusted cookie, and a glass of actual orange juice.
I took a bite of the meat and almost sobbed. It was real. It was delicious. It was the first time I felt like a human being instead of a stray dog since I landed in this world.
"First time eating like a person, eh?" Herbert asked, leaning against the doorframe, his pity actually outweighing his annoyance for once.
"Yes," I managed to choke out between bites of the cookie. "It's... it's amazing."
"Enjoy it, Skinny Boy. You earned it today," he grunted.
Just then, Helga walked in to check on her investment. Seeing me looking so vulnerable and happy, she let out a soft coo. "Oh, look at you! You're actually cute when you're not turning purple."
Before I could register the danger, she leaned down, overwhelmed by a sudden "motherly" urge, and wrapped me in a massive, perfume-scented hug. My head was buried in yellow silk and... well, Helga.
[NOTIFICATION: MASSIVE INTIMACY DETECTED!]
[BONUS: SURPRISE HUG +250 VP!]
[CRITICAL HIT: OWNER AFFECTION +100 VP!]
[CURRENT BALANCE: 350x VP]
The blue screen flashed in my mind, but my body had already hit the 'Eject' button. My nervous system surged, my brain short-circuited, and I let out a sound like a deflating balloon.
"Arthur?!" Helga screamed as I went limp in her arms.
I hit the floor for the second time that day, out cold. But as the darkness took me, a tiny part of my brain was doing the math: Four hundred and ten points... I can buy... a flashlight... or maybe... a taser...