"Okay, nobody stabs anybody, we're here to sell a rock and buy bread."
Hajin crossed the hall toward the exchange desk, Juna sticking close beside his left shoulder, ears pinned flat.
Weapon oil and tobacco smoke hit his nose while voices fought between the bounty board and the stairs.
"They pay to smell like that? Some bargains should scare people off before they agree." Juna wrinkled her nose at a passing cup and yanked her collar higher.
"Sale first, then bread, the drinking we leave to people with coins worth wasting."
Heads turned toward her hood as they passed the benches, then slid down the coat like buyers checking stock.
Hajin read the notice pinned above the public exchange, keeping the pouch shut.
Registration cost fifty silver, and the badge it bought paid members twenty for a core like the one he carried. Without that badge, posted deductions came out first, and an unlicensed hunter kept whatever scraps the guild felt like leaving.
'Fifty silver, when I own a notched sword and half a shirt, so that's a no.'
At the nearest table, a man nudged his companion and pointed his cup at the hood, "Runaway, maybe, that coat won't hide what somebody would pay for those ears."
"Inspect first, nobody buys wrapped merchandise without checking what the seller covered up," his companion said, setting the drink down and opening a hand toward the canvas without touching it.
Hajin turned with a thin smile so both of them saw he heard, hand well clear of his sword.
Juna's claws snagged the coat seam, her tail bristling, and her feet slowed like they wanted a fight.
"Your pick," he said, touching her shoulder and tipping his head at the spot beside the desk, "but from there you see the door and the counter."
She slipped out of the benches' reach before he dropped his hand, then planted herself where she could watch everything.
"Count fast, before they find another way to make staring at my clothes sound like business."
Hajin unwrapped the single crystal and set it in the weighing tray, keeping the cloth under its facets.
He kept two fingers on the wrapping and grinned at the ledger, "One core, two-Shard mountain deer, clean extraction, I even wiped most of the forest off it."
The appraiser studied the torn shirt with a deadpan stare before picking up a lens, and the joke died.
"Two-Shard, intact," he said, turning the tray beneath the window and pausing on one corner, "show your adventurer card before I write the rate."
"No card yet, start with the public rate, I'll decide about your ledger once I hear the damage."
The appraiser wrote the grade without asking what killed the deer, then paused far longer than the arithmetic needed.
He pushed a purse beside the tray and glanced at the customer waiting behind them, "Six silver, public deduction included, take it or find a street buyer who likes the color of your shirt better."
"Six..." he wheezed, clutching the counter, "for the rock that nearly whistled me into a boulder? You're joking, right?"
"Six, for that stone? You spent longer inspecting his clothes than what he brought to sell," Juna snarled, leaning in to glare at the coins without letting her fingers cross the tray's edge.
"The notice gives the terms, a badge changes them, complaints do not." The appraiser tapped the posted deduction with his pen's end.
"Wow, poetry, is that free with the badge too?"
Hajin weighed snatching the core back, since no law in that hall forced him to sell to anyone at all. The street offered more buyers and fewer witnesses, but Juna still wore his coat, and bed and bread drifted away.
'A bad rate I can count beats a fat promise I can't eat, so fine.'
He counted every coin twice, then let the six settle in his fist and nodded at the receipt column.
"Write it, six silver, with today's date."
The pen scratched the date and amount onto a slip, and the crystal vanished beneath the counter.
Hajin tucked the receipt and purse away separately, then folded the empty wrapping into his belt pouch.
"Bread money secured, room after that, you can hate him somewhere that smells better."
"Humans invent rules until taking things sounds like work," she growled, shoving her hands under the cuffs and glaring at the desk, "then congratulate themselves for leaving you anything to eat."
They reached the end of the bench with the entrance a few paces away and the table behind their shoulders. A man stepped sideways from the seats and clamped onto Juna above the elbow, his free hand near his weapon.
He tugged her sleeve and eyed the purse at Hajin's belt, "Pretty company for somebody selling at public rates, maybe you need better money more than you need her."
"Get your hand off me!" Juna raked her claws at the gripping wrist, scraping a bracer instead of skin.
The man turned his forearm so her claws met armor, and his friends rose from the table behind him.
"Five silver, take it before I decide the coat belongs in the price too," he sneered, fingers still sunk into her sleeve.
One friend snorted into his cup while the other drifted between them and the doors.
Hajin dropped his pack beside his foot, freeing both hands without giving anyone a blade to talk about later.
He stepped in close, voice low under the laughter, eyes on the fingers digging into her arm, "She isn't for sale, take your hand off her."
"You'll ask them to make me, or are you hoping somebody lends you another sword?" The man leaned in without loosening his grip and flexed against the canvas.
The friendly look slid off Hajin's face, and he tugged his cuff back from his wrist.
"I'm giving you time to keep that hand useful, big guy, don't mistake it for needing help."
Juna bared her teeth and twisted her shoulder in, bringing her claws up toward his smug face.
Hajin slid between the weapon and her strike, so steel would have to go through him first.
Mana poured down his right arm, and the Ring answered with pressure building under the cuff.
A cup stopped halfway to a patron's mouth, then went back down as its owner dragged his bench well clear. Another seat scraped, then another, and the laughter at the table died while both friends watched the room pull back.
[ DarkBlade: people moving away, they know something is starting ]
[ CringeSlayer91: let go, idiot, he already said it ]
Hajin took the last step into reach and raised one open hand beside the gripping arm, "Let go, or you'll learn which hand you can afford to lose."
The grin faltered, but the fingers stayed shut, and one friend touched his own sword and froze.
'Her claws are up beside my ear, so any more waiting ends with somebody's face missing.'
The man chose steel, his free fingers darting toward the hilt while his other hand kept hold of her arm. Hajin peeled the fingers off her sleeve, caught that wrist, and clamped his other hand behind the man's exposed neck.
Juna yanked her freed arm against her chest, claws still raised beside the man whose grip just ended.
Both friends backed away from their swords, leaving the five-silver offer without a single witness willing to help.
'You wanted to talk prices, so let's find out exactly what you weigh.'
Hajin planted his feet where the whole hall could see what came next, and began to lift.