27. Back Inside the Wall (Patreon)

For the first time in several months, Ike stepped inside the wall. He made a beeline for the monster-parts-buyer. The chill of the room cooled his skin, a welcome relief from the late-summer heat.

Behind the counter, Lea startled at the sight of him. “You’re still alive?”

“You sound surprised,” Ike said, a little suspicious.

“The hell is that supposed to mean? You were gone for months. A Rank 1 doesn’t vanish for months and waltz back in, unharmed. Anyone would expect you to be dead.”

Ike shrugged. Reaching into his pack, he unpacked the owl bones and feathers, along with a few pelts, teeth, and claws. He’d only taken half of the things he and Silver had hunted together, leaving the rest for Silver to sell himself. It seemed a fair split to him, when they’d done most of the hunts together. “So?”

Gathering herself, Lea shook her head. She glanced over the parts, then shoved a handful of gold Ike’s way, ten or so all told. Ike nodded and pocketed it, not that surprised. He and Silver had been hunting for food, not money or skills. The things that tasted good didn’t necessarily sell for a lot of money.

A thought came to him, and he smirked. Rob really was right. You can make more by attacking people than monsters. At least, it’s true of attacking bandits.

“What’s that creepy grin for?” Lea asked, narrowing her eyes.

Ike hid his expression. He walked out without another word, not interested in talking to Lea. I haven’t forgotten that you sold me out to that team knowing full well what they’d do to me. You aren’t my friend, so let’s not pretend to be friendly.

Back out into the town. Weighing the gold in his pocket, Ike glanced over at the big, shiny shop with a glass orb hanging over its door. I could make myself a practical fire attack…or I could just buy a fire skill. I do have some gold now. I’m not as poor as I was. I might as well take a look.

He pushed the door open. Gentle music sounded from an unseen source. A pleasant fragrance floated on the air. Skill orbs sat in individual glass boxes, resting gently atop velvet pillows. Behind the gold-edged glass countertop, a man in a fine suit sat. His monocle shone as he cast a fiercely disapproving look at Ike.

Instantly feeling out of place, Ike took a deep breath. He pushed the feeling down. I’m a hunter. I belong here. Putting his hands behind his back, Ike peered at one of the displays by the door.

A label sat beside the cheapest, palest orb on display. Silver skill: Fierce Slash. 2000 Gold.

Ike startled, jumping back from the display case. His back knocked into a small glass table with a loud clatter.

The man behind the counter sat forward, checking to make sure nothing had broke. When he was satisfied all was well, he looked at Ike and clicked his tongue in disgust.

“Sorry! Sorry.” Ike rushed to the door and escaped, leaving the shop behind.

Outside, safely away from all the glass cases, Ike braced himself on his knees and caught his breath. Thousand? Two thousand? That’s—that’s way more than the skills I was going to buy. For a Silver skill? A Silver?

He wiped his forehead and straightened up. Compared to the Common skill he’d saved up for over years, to walk into that shop and get immediately slapped in the face by a 2000 G pricetag… He shook his head, giving the shop a concerned look over his shoulder as he walked away. That shop is no joke. No joke at all! Even for a hunter, 2000 G wasn’t a small number. And that was a Silver skill. How much would Gold or Rare skills cost, let alone higher-ranked skills?

A moment later, he chuckled to himself. And imagine how much money I can make with skills! It won’t be a 1-1 with the sales price—if working in my uncle’s factory taught me anything, it’s that—but it’s gotta be good. Five hundred, a thousand per skill.

He shook his head. If Joseph knew he’d absorbed the skill the Salamander dropped, he probably would’ve killed Ike on the spot, even if he hadn’t already intended to do it from the start. I probably absorbed several thousand gold worth of skill when I did that.

Brief regret coursed through Ike, but he quickly quashed it. If not for Salamander Healing, he wouldn’t have survived that battle, let alone the rest of the battles he’d been through, absorbing River-Splitting Sword, or anything else. He couldn’t lose sight of his goal. He’d set out to become the most powerful hunter, not to become the richest hunter. If I have a skill that isn’t useful to me, or that my body will reject, I’ll sell it without a second’s hesitation. But likewise, if a skill is good for me, I’ll absorb it without a second’s hesitation, no matter how much it’s worth. I can’t let profits get in the way of my personal growth.

He set off again. This time, he visited the supply stores, picking up pitch, rough hemp cloth, and some lamp oil. While he was at it, he gathered a few dry and semi-dry branches for torches. Ike considered buying another set of clothes, in hopes that he’d have a nice pair of clothes for when he needed them, then rejected the idea. At the rate he destroyed clothes, it was better to just buy clothes when he needed them. He did, however, purchase a needle set and a few spools of strong thread.

Ike dropped by the grocer to replace his camp rations, the previous set long eaten, and came out to a crowd. He stood on his tiptoes, peering over at the noise. What’s going on over there?

Silver stood awkwardly in the center of the crowd, hugging the owl’s bones to his chest like some kind of safety rope. He backed away one step at a time, clearly uncomfortable.

In front of him, barring his path, a girl in bright pink put her hands on her hips. Ike’s eyes widened. No way. Her, again?