My fists... they had barely been enough against those three thugs. If not for Great Sage's real-time analysis and my latent combat potential, I'd probably be starting my second loop right now. But Elsa? Attacking her with my bare hands would be like spitting into a hurricane.
"Fists aren't enough. I need a weapon."
[Affirmative. Against high-speed, blade-focused opponents like Target 'Elsa Granhiert', unarmed combat with your current physical parameters is not advised. Acquiring a weapon will increase survival probability.]
"Easy for you to say," I thought, patting my empty pockets. I didn't even have money for an Appa. How was I supposed to buy a weapon? The original Subaru's phone and wallet... Maybe I could trade them? My anime knowledge told me this world valued 'Meteors', objects from our world.
With that thought, I pushed off the wall and started limping down the main street. My new body was complaining, but the need to get stronger outweighed the pain. A pawn shop, a junk dealer... anything would do.
"Mommy... Mommy!"
A thin, panicked child's voice cut through the noise of the crowd. I paused. I looked around and saw her: a small girl, crumpled by the side of the curb, crying her eyes out. Green dress, brown hair...
"No way," I thought. It's her. The scene from the anime. The lost child.
[Analysis: Match detected with user's memory database ('Re: Zero' anime). Event: Lost Child (Probable Name: Maylie). Original timeline: Natsuki Subaru encounters this child and takes her to her mother.]
"So..." The logic clicked into place in my mind. "...if I want to preserve the timeline, I have to help her.Doing nothing would be the actual deviation."
It was a useful excuse to justify my actions. Honestly, the thought of just walking away from a crying kid made me sick. I'd just beaten three guys, hadn't I? I should have a little courage.
I turned back. I knelt in front of the little girl. She looked up at me with tear-filled, fearful eyes. I realized my new appearance, combined with the dirt and scrapes on my face, probably wasn't very reassuring. I must have looked like a fragile, beaten-up girl myself.
"Hey," I said, trying to keep my voice as soft as possible. "What's wrong? Are you lost?"
The girl nodded, sniffling. "I-I can't find my mommy..."
"Great Sage, should I use her name to trick her?"
[Analysis: Knowing the child's name can be used to establish trust..]
"You're looking for your mom, right... Maylie?"
The girl's eyes widened in shock. "H-How did you know my name, onee-san?"
Onee-san?! (Big sister?!) I gritted my teeth. Cursed this body. "I... uh... It's a long story. My name is Subaru. I just want to help."
Just then, a gruff voice cut in. "Hey, brats! You!"
I looked up. The Appa seller was scowling at us from his stall. "What are you doing over there? You, little lady," he said, looking at me. "What happened to your face? Get in a fight? A delicate girl like you shouldn't be wandering these streets alone."
"Little lady..." I hissed internally. "I'm a guy, you old coot." But I didn't say it out loud. My appearance can prove itself useful if I encounter good people.
"She's lost," I said, gesturing to the girl. "We're looking for her mother."
The vendor scanned my injured face, my dirty tracksuit, and then the trembling little girl beside me. He sighed, grumbling. "Her mother just went by a moment ago, bawling her eyes out. Headed west."
He reached under his stall, pulled out two red Appas, and thrust them at me. "Here. Take 'em."
"I don't have any money," I said immediately.
"I'm not askin' for money," he snapped. "You're helpin' the kid. Take 'em and go. Find her mother."
Surprised, I took the Appas. "Th-thank you."
I nodded to the man and turned to Maylie. I held out one Appa to her. "Here. Your mom went west. Let's go that way, okay?"
The girl nodded through her sniffles and took the fruit.
We headed back onto the main street, Maylie clutching my hand tightly while nibbling on her Appa. We headed west, and it wasn't long before we heard an anxious woman's voice shouting, "MAYLIE!" Maylie's face lit up.
"MOMMY!"
She let go of my hand and dashed across the street toward the woman. Her mother scooped her up in a tearful embrace. Watching the scene, I took a bite of my own Appa. It was sour, but juicy. I felt some of my energy return.
The woman spotted me and rushed over, bowing deeply. "Thank you for finding my daughter, miss. Oh, but your face... Are you alright?"
'I'm a guy...dammit.' "It's fine, just a little accident."
After one last look at the reunited mother and child, I walked away quickly. I'd done a good deed. And most importantly, İ can say I am still a good person even after beaten to death. But this had distracted me from my goal.
"Great Sage, nearest weapon dealer or junk shop."
[Calculating... A low-quality used goods shop has been detected two streets over.]
I headed that way. The shop was, in a word, a dump. Rusted tools, broken furniture, ragged clothes... The old man behind the counter looked at me with indifference.
"What do you want?"
My eyes fell on a barrel of rusted metal scraps. Among them, I spotted a short, crude dagger. No sheath, a cracked hilt, a stained blade.
"That," I said, pointing to it.
The man pulled it out, tossing it at me disdainfully. "5 coppers."
I checked my pockets again. Nothing but the useless Japanese Yen. I placed them on the counter. "I have these? Exotic coins."
The man looked at the coins, picked one up, then threw them to floor. "Don't take me for a fool. Get lost."
"Dammit." What was I going to do? I stared desperately at the dagger. Just then, I remembered something else in my pocket. Original Subaru's stuff... The phone? No, that was too valuable. My trump card for a trade. But...
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a cheap, plastic convenience store lighter. I'd never smoked, but it must have been in the original subaru's bag or his pocket. I flicked it on in front of the old man.
Click. Vwoosh.
A small, controlled flame appeared. The old man's eyes widened.
"A fire stone? But... instant?"
"Great Sage, what should I call this? Maybe super duper fire stone ultra or kamehameha rasengan ultra spiral dance version three..." Great sage cut my words before I can finish the name.
[Suggestion: Call it an 'Instant-Fire Meteor'.]
"A special 'Meteor'," I said, trying to sound mysterious. "I'll trade it for a dagger."
The man's eyes darted from the steady flame to my small, delicate frame, and a greedy glint sparked in his gaze. He licked his chapped lips. "A fire Meteor... very rare. Yes, yes. A deal."
He snatched the lighter from my hand before I could react and then tossed the rusty dagger onto the counter with a dull thud. "Here. Now get out."
I looked at the dagger. It was pitted, the balance was nonexistent, and the edge looked like it had been sharpened with a rock. This wouldn't even pierce Elsa's cloak, let alone her skin.
"No," I said firmly, pushing the piece of junk back towards him. "This isn't a fair trade. This thing is worthless."
The old man scowled, clutching the lighter protectively to his chest. "A deal's a deal, brat. You pointed, I gave. Now scram before I make you."
"I pointed at a dagger, not that piece of scrap metal," I insisted, my voice hardening. I was still aching and emotionally frayed, but I wouldn't be cheated. "That 'Meteor' is worth a hundred of these. I need a real weapon. Something that isn't rusty, at least."
The man glared, clearly realizing I wasn't as naive as my small, girlish frame suggested. He spat on the floor. "Gah. Fine. Think you're clever, eh?" He rummaged noisily under the counter, grumbling about "uppity brats" and "flashy junk."
He threw another weapon onto the counter with a loud clang. It was slightly longer than the first. The blade was dark steel, stained and unadorned, but the edge looked like it had been properly sharpened sometime this century. The hilt was simple, dark wood, but it wasn't cracked. It looked less like a true weapon and more like a heavy-duty kitchen knife or a butcher's tool that had seen hard use.
"This one," he growled. "Take it or leave it. The Meteor is mine either way."
I picked it up. It was heavy, but the balance was marginally better than the scrap. It was still an ugly, crude piece of steel, but it was functional. It would have to do.
"Fine," I said, snatching the dagger before he could change his mind. "Deal."