Ryker leapt from rock to rock with a practiced agility. His hands held onto the straps of the large wooden box, keeping it from bouncing around too much.
To ensure his peace, Ryker had purposely built himself a home over two hours away from the nearest town. This was about the only way he could get into all the trouble he did yet live relatively peacefully.
He knew well how lucky he had gotten with this location, though. In worlds like this one, the wilderness was an especially dangerous place, and that was even more so for someone as weak as his current self.
He had a certain mysterious Spirit Beast to thank for the peace he had had to this point.
Ryker broke out into a light jog, reaching the bottom of the mountain. This was the most dangerous part of his journey, but he wasn't worried. With his senses, picking out and avoiding danger was as easy as breathing.
He didn't have much strength, but despite its annoyances, having a pure soul came with its perks.
A small city appeared in the distance, the smell of kindling smoke and industry clogging up the clear, mountainous air.
Smog and soot rose up high, layering the city in a sheen of black that was impossible to notice unless you stepped outside of it.
Ryker flashed a worker's permit at the gates and slipped through under the envious eyes of those camping for an opportunity to enter. It was quite a shock to Ryker the first time he had seen this. He was used to grand cities with long waiting lines, but this city wasn't even considered First Circle, and yet it received just as much enthusiasm.
Ryker began to weave through the familiar city streets. Though the immediate path into the city was clear, it was quick to become cluttered even so early in the morning.
This sort of industrial city was a staple of lower class worlds. Without access to higher forms of energy, they were forced to rely on steam and coal powered machines to live their day to day lives and survive the harsh environment wrought by Spirit Beasts.
With the population of Mythical Masters being so low in these worlds, there was no choice but to make up the gap in other ways. The result was what was seen before Ryker now.
Ryker sported a bright smile, grinning at almost everyone he passed by. He quickly made it to his usual spot nearby a soon to be bustling road.
"Ryker!" A middle-aged man with a face covered in soot poked his head out from a curtain masquerading as a doorway. "Didn't I tell you to lay low for a while?! Do you have a death wish?!"
Ryker let out a chuckle. "Worried about me, old man? When'd you get so soft?"
Without a care, Ryker began to set up his stall, using his large wooden box as a table and crossing his legs before it.
A loud snort came from the curtain doorway before a box came flying out.
Ryker caught the small black box and opened the lid, finding a worn timepiece laid within it on a bed of silk the old man should have definitely been unable to afford.
"You're finally letting me have a go at it?" Ryker's head shot up toward the curtain door.
"If you leave even a scratch on my precious baby, I'll have your head, brat!"
"You're trusting your prized possession to a dead man?"
There was no response on the other end, but Ryker could almost see the reddened cheeks of the easily embarrassed old man.
Ryker didn't waste any more time, a faint excitement glowing in his eyes. He had wanted to tinker with this rusted watch for a very long time already, but the old man had always refused. Ryker had no idea what had gotten into him today that made him change his mind.
'Maybe saving beauties does pay,' thought Ryker with a grin.
Before even touching the watch, Ryker wiped down the tip of his fingers with alcohol. He didn't like the feeling of having a separation between him and his work, so he abhorred gloves. This, then, was the next best option.
A shimmering set of silver tools rested on the large wooden box. One after another, Ryker brought them out, never using a general tool for something that could be done with a specialized one.
'A beautiful pocket watch.... It has a standard tourbillon design perfect for a pocket watch, unfortunately there seems to be some damage to the escapement. The fix shouldn't be difficult, the most tedious part will be the cleaning and oiling.'
Ryker immediately got to work. Despite its small size, the watch had over 70 components. Remembering them all, cleaning them individually, and finally oiling them one by one was a tedious and monotonous task that required an absurd amount of skill.
The small mirror bobbed up from Ryker's side to hover before him. A faint light came from its surface, magnifying the image of the watch's mechanism for Ryker to see.
Ryker forgot that he had a business to run. The money he gained here always went toward his meals, it was the only reason he came to this place to begin with. He was unable to hunt on his own with the small mirror's obvious weaknesses, so he had no choice but to play his role as humble merchandise seller.
This, though, was meaningless to him in the face of something so fascinating.
The hours of the morning ticked by. Many passed Ryker's shabby so-called stall, but without any wares to show, none stayed.
"Ryker?"
Ryker blinked, suddenly feeling that his eyes were quite dry. He had a terrible habit of forgetting to blink when he tinkered.
Two beauties stood over Ryker and his large wooden box. One wore a bright yellow sundress of fabric so light it wrapped a little too well around her curves. As for the other, her outfit was far more intentional in its provocation, showing off her long and slender legs.
Ryker recognized these two quite well, he had one of them to thank for the bone bruises he was nursing at the moment, though he didn't mind. Now that he got to have his fun with the old man's pocket watch, wasn't it worth it?
These two women had a striking difference about them that set them apart from the others frequenting this marketplace aside from their beauty, and that was the two odd creatures that followed them.
The yellow-dress beauty held a fluffy white bunny in her arms which had a small red horn poking out from its forehead. It was no larger than two palm lengths and had chubby cheeks that seemed perpetually stuffed with food.
The beauty's companion, though, carried around what looked like a fluffy yellow furred duck. The only difference was that it had a silver beak forged of metal and larger than normal palmate.
Ryker recognized both Spirit Beasts with quite some ease, but paid them little attention. They would at most be Second Circle Talents upon growing out of their Infant stage. They weren't a worthwhile investment for anyone serious about having a future as a beast tamer.
Ryker chuckled to himself when he had this thought. Both creatures were still far better choices than the small mirror floating before him now.
"Hold on a moment, Rosemary. I'm almost done with old man Bowan's watch."
Rosemary, the yellow-dress beauty, blinked in shock. Her grandfather had allowed someone else to touch that antique? Even for her, someone he was used to pampering, hadn't been allowed to even once.