Chapter 6: Chapter 6: Have You Ever Seen a Hero Like This?
"Three Gold Coins and twenty silver."
The owner of the Blacksmith Shop said fawningly.
Little John sized up the middle-aged man before him. He was dressed in a brightly colored, embroidered tunic of high-quality cotton. His thick, oily double chin jiggled with his smile, and in his hand, he held a frayed linen cap adorned with the feather of a long-tailed bird.
Every sign pointed to a vast difference in status between the man and himself.
"This price..." Little John began. ’Isn’t that a little high?’ he thought. After all, an iron Great Sword, three pairs of leather gloves with split seams, and a heavily scratched piece of Chest Armor hardly seemed worth that much.
"Oh, in that case, how about 3 Gold Coins and 50 silver?" The owner bowed slightly and picked up the leather gloves. "1 Gold Coin for the Iron Sword, 1 Gold Coin and 50 silver for the Chest Armor, and I’ll add another 10 silver coins for the gloves."
Little John said, "These gloves have split seams, and they’re heavily worn."
"No, no, no, they’re still in decent shape. With a little stitching, they’ll work just fine."
Little John frowned. ’Those should be my lines,’ he thought.
’Did you get the wrong script, boss? This isn’t what I heard from the other Adventurers. They all said you were a ruthless swindler.’
"Alright, 3 Gold Coins and 50 silver it is." Little John nodded, taking the coins the owner handed him.
"Boss, what’s the lowest you’ll go for this?" Little John asked, pointing to a piece of studded Leather Armor.
"Ah, that one’s very cheap. Only 50 silver."
"The original price is 75 silver. Why such a big discount?"
"This Leather Armor was salvaged and repaired. It’s not that new."
"Is that so?" Little John paused.
Seeing his hesitation, the owner slapped his own fleshy cheek and said, "Look at me, my memory’s going. This can also be rented—two Silver Coins a day."
As he spoke, he pushed the Leather Armor toward Little John.
Little John took the Leather Armor and looked it over. The material and craftsmanship were both excellent.
"Boss, are you hiding something from me?" Little John put down the Leather Armor and stared at him.
"How would I dare, to someone as ruthless as you?"
"Hm?"
"I meant decisive! As decisive as you!"
Little John just smiled and slowly drew the Longsword from his waist.
"Spare me! Gunter was the one behind it all! You’ve already killed him, so please, just spare me!"
"Gunter?" Little John drew his Longsword completely and rested it on the owner’s shoulder. "You’re going to tell me everything."
After a bit more intimidation, the owner spilled the beans.
It turned out Gunter would ambush his teammates or lone Adventurers. After killing them, he would bring their equipment here to be fenced.
This time, Gunter had already arranged with the owner to sell a Longsword—one he planned to deliver right after killing Little John.
"That piece of scum," Little John said angrily.
"Yes, yes, a total piece of scum," the owner chimed in, gently nudging the Longsword on his shoulder.
"Did you just say I killed him?"
"Of course. This Great Sword and Chest Armor were his. Now that his gear is here, you must have... taken care of him."
Little John glanced at the items on the counter and, upon closer inspection, realized they really were Gunter’s.
He’d been in a daze ever since returning from the goblin den, and only now, with the owner’s reminder, did he notice the items.
"A guy as black-hearted and ruthless as him... the fact that you could kill him proves your skills are extraordinary. I just beg you to spare me," the owner said, his face a mask of appeasement.
"I didn’t kill him." Little John really wanted to say that Gunter had been killed by a goblin.
"You don’t have to be afraid. There are plenty of Reapers like Gunter who specialize in killing their teammates, but it’s always done on the quiet."
"Reapers?"
"That’s right. They screw over their teammates and sell their gear for cash. Gunter was an old hand at it. That Longbow hanging over there? He sold it to me a while back."
Little John followed the owner’s finger and saw an exquisitely crafted, carved wooden Longbow hanging on the wall.
"How could a guy like that still find teammates?"
"Oh, they can. Very few people know what they’re up to. When a teammate dies, they just say they were killed by goblins. I’m their fence, that’s the only reason I know."
"Uh, Gunter actually was killed by goblins."
"’Goblins.’ Right, I get it. I get it."
’You don’t get it at all!’ Little John wanted to scream. ’Gunter was genuinely tricked and killed by a goblin!’
He knew that everyone considered goblins to be synonymous with stupidity. Creatures that did nothing but screech and charge at you. An experienced Adventurer just had to level their spear, and the goblins would impale themselves on it one after another.
But Shire was different.
Little John was increasingly convinced that this goblin was extraordinary. His every move was polite and full of worldly knowledge. If you swapped his tattered trousers for a tailored coat and gave him a good wash, Little John felt they could have been meeting in an upscale café.
"Boss, have you ever heard of a goblin that can speak Common Speech?" Little John asked.
"That... I can’t say I have." The owner wiped the sweat from his bald pate. "But I have heard that goblins worship an Evil God. They have something called the Blessing of the Evil God."
"The Blessing of the Evil God?"
"You’ve heard of Bear Goblins, right?" The owner again nudged the Longsword on his shoulder. "When a goblin receives the blessing, it creates a Bear Goblin. And those things are seriously tough."
"I used to know a Reaper who came here often to sell gear. Then, for a long time, he just stopped coming."
"One day, I saw him again on the street. He’d become a beggar, both his arms gone. I asked him what happened. He said he and his team had run into a Bear Goblin, and he was the only one to make it out alive. His arms had been smashed to pieces. He fled, his arms flopping like dough, but by the time he got back, too much time had passed. The Healing Spell didn’t work, so they had to amputate."
Little John frowned. He’d also heard of Bear Goblins. An adult could reach two meters in height, strong yet agile, and could easily kill large beasts like bears and tigers. They were also cunning and would use Enslavement on other goblins, forcing them to hunt to satisfy their massive appetites.
For any goblin Race with Bear Goblins among them, the Adventurer Association recommended a Hunting Team of at least ten members.
But Little John felt that Shire was about as far from a Bear Goblin as one could get.
He decided he would ask someone at the Adventurer Association about it later.
"But you’re different. Taking out a Reaper on your first go... you’re sure to become a great Hero one day." The owner’s smiling face was covered in sweat.
"A Hero? Have you ever seen a Hero dressed like I am?" Little John laughed self-deprecatingly. ’Have you ever seen a Hero who works for a goblin?’ he thought.
Seeing that his flattery had backfired, the owner could only offer an awkward, apologetic laugh.
Little John sheathed his Longsword, folded the Leather Armor, and put it in his pack.
He then ignored the owner, who was sighing in relief and wiping away sweat, and left the Blacksmith Shop directly. On his way out, he brushed shoulders with two female Adventurers.
"Sister, that’s a nice Great Sword. Didn’t you say you wanted a new one?"
"Luna, I never said I needed a new one."
"Ladies, this Great Sword is only 3 Gold Coins! A bargain!" the owner hurried over to greet them.
"3 Gold Coins? That’s so expensive!" Luna cried.
"My lady, this Great Sword is made of superior materials, with exquisite craftsmanship. It’s a rare find for my shop."
"Three gold..." Luna muttered, pouting.
Then she glanced back at the departing Little John, and then looked at the owner’s shoulder.
After thinking for a few seconds, she slowly drew the Short Sword from her waist.
