The pouch of silver jingled in JP's hand like it was worth ten times more. After scraping by on copper coins and scavenged hides, it felt like he'd just won the lottery.
"Lyra," he declared, puffing out his chest, "tonight, we are officially middle-class. Maybe even… lower nobility."
"Or broke again by sundown," she replied flatly.
"Optimism, Lyra. It's called optimism."
The merchant district hit him like a wall of color and noise. Banners flapped, hawkers shouted, spices stung his nose, and every stall seemed to offer something new.
JP, grinning like a tourist with money to burn, darted toward the first weapon stall. "Look at this dagger! Mana-etched! Imagine fighting wolves with style points."
"Imagine affording it," Lyra countered.
JP sighed, but when he glanced back at the dagger, his Appraisal blinked into action on its own.
Item: Mana-Etched DaggerDurability: High. Material Composition: 30% steel, 10% iron dust, 60% mana resin.Potential Crafting Use: Replication possible with refined mana resin and treated steel.
JP blinked. "Wait, what?"
Lyra cocked her head. "What?"
He stared harder. Another line had appeared beneath the usual description—materials, crafting potential. It was like the Appraisal was peeling the dagger apart in his head, showing him how it was built.
Curious, he turned toward a pot at another stall.
Item: Collapsible Cooking Pot.Durability: Medium. Composition: Folded tin alloy, resin hinge, minor enchantment residue.Potential Crafting Use: Easy replication with tin sheets and resin adhesive.
JP nearly dropped the pot. "Oh… oh, this is dangerous."
Lyra narrowed her eyes. "What did you see?"
He grinned. "The pot's guts. Like… a recipe card. I can see what it's made of and how to copy it."
Lyra frowned, but a flicker of unease crossed her face. "That's… not normal."
"Nope," JP said cheerfully, already bouncing to the next stall. "But it's awesome."
By the time they left the market, JP's arms were full of camping gear and raw materials. His satchel strained against the weight, digging into his shoulder. He muttered, trying to adjust—
And suddenly, the Appraisal window shimmered again.
Satchel Detected: Eligible for Integration.Would you like to merge with Inventory?
JP stopped mid-step, blinking at the glowing prompt floating in his vision. "Uh… Lyra?"
She turned. "What?"
"My bag just asked me a question."
"…What."
He willed yes, more out of curiosity than sense. In a blink, the crushing weight on his back vanished. He looked down—his satchel was still there, but lighter, as if hollow.
When he tugged it open, an interface bloomed before his eyes:
Inventory Created.Capacity: 20 slots.Satchel Linked. Physical burden reduced by 80%.
JP stared, then whooped. "YES! YES! It's like—like a portable pocket dimension backpack! My niece was right! Inventory is real!"
Several passersby gave him strange looks. Lyra just stared, expression unreadable. "…You get stranger by the day."
"Oh, this is a game changer," JP said, nearly vibrating with excitement. He shoved a coil of rope into the satchel—it disappeared instantly, stored neatly in one of the glowing "slots." "No more sore shoulders! No more overpacking! Lyra, we're living the dream!"
"Or you're drawing more eyes than you realize," she murmured, scanning the plaza.
Indeed, across the way, two robed men whispered to each other while watching JP carefully.
JP didn't notice. He was too busy gleefully testing what else could go into his new Inventory, humming to himself like a kid with a new toy.
For the first time since he arrived in this world, he felt like he wasn't just surviving—he was building something bigger.
But Lyra knew better. With every step forward JP took, more shadows were gathering.