“Silver Scale Chestplate, five gold pieces each!”
Just as she turned the alley corner, Flamme heard a full-throated, energetic call.
“Honest and reliable, reasonably priced!”
Immediately after, a run-down building came into view.
Hanging crookedly above the doorframe was a wooden sign reading Bandle City Dwarf Shop.
Standing beneath the sign was an old dwarf with graying hair, shouting at the top of his lungs, though unfortunately, there wasn’t a soul around.
Noticing a customer arriving, the old dwarf wiped his grease-stained hands on his apron and warmly gestured for her to enter.
Seeing how old he was and how hard he was still working to make a living, Flamme couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy.
She made up her mind then and there to buy a few pieces of equipment, taking it as supporting this dwarf grandpa’s business.
Carrying this goodwill, she stepped inside the shop.
The store was small, but it held a vast array of goods.
Staffs, boots, armor, cloaks—all kinds of equipment were readily available, along with numerous knick-knacks she couldn’t even name, cramming every single corner.
Flamme casually picked up a pair of boots and glanced at the price tag.
Fifty gold coins!
She thought her eyes were playing tricks on her.
She picked up a staff resting in the corner.
One hundred and twenty gold coins!
She hastily put the staff back, clutched her coin pouch, and turned to leave without a second thought.
As Master would put it, this is what you call a scam shop.
The thrifty, practical girl had no intention of wasting her precious travel funds in a place like this.
“Little girl, don’t leave just yet!”
Seeing a rare customer turn to leave right after walking in, the old dwarf called out to stop her.
“I have cheap equipment too. Look over there.”
Flamme stopped in her tracks and looked in the direction he was pointing.
A row of wooden shelves stood in the corner of the wall, upon which sat dozens of neatly lined, tightly sealed clay jars.
“There’s plenty of equipment inside those.”
The old dwarf used a thick, sturdy hand to stroke his beard, making three braided metal rings attached to it sway along.
“Just three gold coins per jar! If you’re lucky, you might even pull out a magic item.”
“You know, for that price, you couldn’t even buy a decent staff on this whole street.”
Flamme quickly did the math in her head.
The cheapest piece of equipment in the store cost fifty gold coins, while a jar was only three gold coins—not to mention the chance of pulling a magic item.
Before she could even finish calculating, the old dwarf had already handed over a small wooden mallet.
Confused and bewildered, she took the mallet.
After handing over the money, she walked up to the rows of clay jars and selected the largest-looking one.
Taking a deep breath, she gripped the wooden mallet tighter and struck right at the center of the jar.
Clang.
The clay jar shattered at the hit.
Yet inside, there was absolutely nothing.
Flamme squatted down and searched through the pile of shards repeatedly, but found nothing besides broken clay pieces.
Three gold coins, gone just like that.
Squatting before the pile of debris, everything went dark before her eyes.
“Haha, it’s totally understandable for there to be an empty one once in a while!”
The old dwarf’s kindly laughter sounded from behind her, his tone carrying the tolerance of a seasoned elder, as if those three gold coins were merely a necessary tuition fee on a young person’s path to growth.
“Child, tell your dwarf grandpa—do you understand how raffle odds work?”
Flamme shook her head, thoroughly dazed.
She didn’t care how the prizes were drawn; she just wanted to know how her money had vanished.
“Then that makes things easy!”
The old dwarf wore a relieved expression, his eyes hidden behind thick eyebrows shining with a murky yet shrewd light.
He leaned closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret reserved strictly for regular customers.
“Child, will you listen to your dwarf grandpa?”
Before Flamme could answer, he had already extended a short, stubby finger, pointing toward the ground near her feet.
Drawn on the floor was a large circular wheel.
A few crooked lines divided it into sections of varying sizes, each labeled with the names of different magic items.
Only at the very edge was a tiny region with a few squiggly words written on it.
That space was so narrow it could barely fit a finger, making it clearly the hardest slot to land on.
“There’s no regular equipment on this one—it’s strictly magic items, ten gold coins per spin!”
The old dwarf squatted down, pressing a thick finger against the edge of the wheel, ready to spin at any moment.
“I’ll spin it with my finger, and you just shout stop whenever you want. Simple, right?”
“If you listen to your dwarf grandpa, give this one a try!”
Unable to resist the temptation of magic items, Flamme ended up coughing up the gold coins anyway.
Ten gold coins lay flat in the old dwarf’s open palm before he lazily slid them into his apron pocket.
“The win… ning… rate… is super… high…”
Shouting a bizarre chant, the old dwarf began the game.
His finger moved alongside his chant at a exceptionally sluggish pace, which at least fit his age.
I finally won’t lose this time.
The girl could already foresee the future.
Spending only thirteen gold coins in total to acquire a magic item—how was that any different from picking it up off the ground for free, just like Master said?
“Stop! Quick, stop!”
Seeing that it was about to land on a storage magic item, Flamme shouted stop repeatedly. Read this novel at novelping.com for the best experience.
“…and the prize quality is double good!”
The old dwarf rattled off the second half of his slogan at lightning speed.
Simultaneously, his short, stubby finger suddenly accelerated, spinning several times with an agility completely unfitting for his age, before coming to a firm stop right on that tiniest section.
“Ah! Missed!”
“Huh?”
Refusing to accept defeat, Flamme pulled out more gold coins and tried again.
“Welp! Missed again!”
Only now did Flamme realize that this old thing in front of her was no good person at all—could he be a demon?!
“Hey, old grandpa, are you a demon?” Flamme questioned expressionlessly.
Hearing this question, the old dwarf stroked his beard and let out a hearty laugh.
“My sincere apologies, but I am a pure-blooded dwarf! I used to be part of a Hero’s Party back in the day and killed plenty of demons!”
Flamme received an answer she hadn’t wanted to hear.
Distraught and heartbroken, Flamme turned and walked away.
Once again, she had witnessed firsthand just how treacherous human—and dwarf—hearts could be.
That was a huge sum of money!
It could have bought so many sweets.
To think she had actually believed this old dwarf was a good person.
It was just a bad guy growing old.
Rotten through and through—even worse than the Stille in the backyard.
“I’m going to lose all our travel funds, Master!”
Flamme looked at Link with teary eyes.
“Looks to me like you’re an adventurer.”
Following Flamme’s gaze, the old dwarf finally noticed the presence of this other person.
Seeing yet another prospective customer, a smile hooked on the corner of his lips once more.
“I’ve got the Sword of the Hero here too—realler than real!”
Just as he thought he could accurately manipulate his customer’s mindset, he heard the man reply:
“What a coincidence. Truly a coincidence. I happen to have a Sword of the Hero back home too.”
Hearing those words, the old dwarf finally realized who had arrived.
“I thought I’d be able to trick another fool, but I didn’t expect it to be you, kid.”
“Hero Link.”
“Long time no see.”
“Vanguard Magni.”