The only noise inside the shop was the old clock that, somehow, still works in the corner of the room.
"It's been four hours," Chris groaned, his head resting on the bill counter.
His beard was flattened against the wood.
"I have finished counting the cracks in the ceiling. There are forty-two. Forty-three if you count the one Alice made when she tried to summon a dead cat."
"It was a Ceiling Demon," Alice corrected from her corner.
She was polishing a human skull with a dirty rag.
"And he was shy."
Julien sat on a high stool behind the counter, flipping a gold coin. fake, purchased for 1 credit, over his knuckles to make it look like the business is doing well.
"Patience, Chris. Sales is a waiting game."
"This isn't a game," Chris argued, lifting his head.
"It's a cemetery. Literally, we are sitting in a haunted shop in the worst district of the city, waiting for people to magically know we exist. I should go out there and advertise."
"No," Julien said.
"Just near the Hoven!" Chris stood up, his chair scraping loudly.
"I'll just stand on a crate and flex. Maybe shout a little. 'POTIONS! GET YOUR POTIONS! THEY TASTE LIKE STRAWBERRIES!
"Sit down," Julien commanded, not looking up from his coin.
"We discussed this. Low profile is important at the moment."
"Low profile?" Chris gestured around the room.
"Julien, we opened a store and put a sign outside in big bold letters. We cleaned the windows. How is 'Opening a Business' considered 'Low Profile'? It's like a ninja wearing a neon vest that says 'I AM HIDING IN THE SHADOWS'."
"It's a facade," Julien explained patiently.
"If we go out and scream, we will surely attract the Guilds. We might even attract that Kane. We attract the Tax inspectors. But if we let people find us slowly... through whispers, through rumours... then we control the flow."
"The flow is currently a drought," Alice muttered into the skull's ear hole.
"Besides," Julien added, stopping the coin.
"We can't handle a flood of customers yet. Look at this."
He tapped a notebook on the counter.
It was filled with scribbles, erased numbers, and a drawing of a sad stick figure, which is supposed to be himself holding a bag of money with a hole in it.
"I tried to balance our projected earnings versus the 'bribe budget' for the local gangs," Julien sighed.
"I stopped when I realised I don't know how to calculate depreciation on a cursed building."
"Math is the devil's language," Chris nodded sagely.
"We need an accountant. Not a legal one. Someone creative. Someone who can look at a ledger that says 'Income: 10,000 Credits from Magic Thin Air' and turn it into 'Income: 10,000 Credits from... Consulting Fees or sold item."
"My uncle is still dead," Alice offered.
"But I could summon a banker's ghost? They usually scream a lot, though."
"No screaming bankers," Julien rubbed his temples. "We'll find someone. But until then, we keep the volume low. We sell enough to pay the bills and keep our heads down."
Ding-Dong.
The bell above the door chimed.
It wasn't a normal bell.
Alice had rigged it to sound like a funeral toll.
The three of them froze.
Chris immediately straightened up, puffing his chest out to look menacing.
Alice pulled her hood up, shrouding her face in shadow.
Julien put on his best 'mysterious merchant' smile.
The door creaked open.
A man stepped inside.
He was the typical District 9 hunter.
He wore leather armour that had been patched so many times it was mostly duct tape and hope.
He had a scar running down his cheek, white hair, and eyes that darted around the room like a trapped rat.
A rusty dagger hung at his hip.
[Streetwise Analysis]
[Target: 'Viper' (Rank: E+ Rogue).]
[Current Status: Desperate.]
[Inventory: 3 Low-Grade Cores, Broken Dagger.]
[Intent: Scavenging/Buying.]
The hunter paused his moments, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light.
He looked at the shelves.
They were mostly empty.
Julien hadn't stocked the shelves physically because he didn't want to leave System items out where they could be stolen.
Instead, he had placed a few empty jars and some cool-looking rocks Alice had found in the basement.
The hunter frowned.
He walked up to the counter, his boots thudding heavily on the floorboards. Then looked at Chris, who glared back, then at Alice, who hissed softly, and finally settled on Julien.
"This is a shop?" the hunter asked, his voice gravelly.
"It is," Julien said smoothly.
"Welcome to Eternal Rest. How can we aid your survival today?"
The hunter gestured to the empty shelves.
"You ain't got no stock. It's just... jars of dirt."
"That is Grave Dirt," Alice whispered from the corner.
"Very expensive. Do not touch."
The hunter flinched, looking at her.
"Right. Okay. Weirdo."
He turned back to Julien.
"I heard a rumour. From a guy who knows a guy. Said you guys had the 'good stuff'. Said you sold a potion that healed a leg in ten seconds."
"Rumours are often exaggerated," Julien said, leaning forward.
"But in this case... they were understated."
"I need... defence," the hunter said, looking at his torn armour.
"I'm going into the 'Rotting Gardens' tomorrow. My party needs a tank, but we don't have one. I need something that stops me from getting chewed on."
"Ah," Julien nodded. "You need durability."
"I don't see no armor here," the hunter sneered. "Just space."
"The common goods are on the shelves," Julien lied, gesturing to the rocks.
"The premium goods... the items that change fate... those are kept in the Secure Vault."
"The vault?" the hunter raised an eyebrow.
"Inventory safety," Julien said.
"Can't be too careful in this district. Tell me what you need, and I shall retrieve it from the back."
The hunter hesitated.
He looked at Chris, sizing him up. He looked at Julien's broken arm.
"Fine," the hunter grunted. "I need an Iron Skin Potion. Or a barrier scroll. You got that?"
"One moment."
Julien hopped off the stool.
He walked to the curtain behind the counter that led to the hallway.
"Don't go anywhere," Julien said.
He stepped behind the curtain. There was no vault.
Just the hallway and the closet with the chicken bones lying around.
"System," Julien whispered.
"Purchase [Potion of Iron Skin]."
[Transaction Complete. -8 Credits.]
A heavy, square bottle appeared in his hand.
The liquid inside was grey and thick, like liquid mercury.
[Item: Potion of Iron Skin (Tier 1)]
[Effect: Grants user stone-like skin for 30 minutes. Reduces physical damage by 50%.]
[Side Effect: Reduced agility.]
"Perfect."
Julien walked back through the curtain.
He placed the bottle on the counter.
The heavy glass made a satisfying thunk.
"Potion of Iron Skin," Julien announced.
"High-grade. Will turn your flesh as hard as rock for thirty minutes. A single goblin bite will break its teeth on you."
The hunter stared at the bottle.
He reached out to touch it.
"Ah," Julien covered it with his hand. "Payment first."
"How much?"
"For you? A first-time customer discount," Julien smiled. "Seventy credits."
The hunter froze. "Seventy?"
"It retails for two hundred in the Inner City," Julien pointed out.
The hunter licked his lips.
His eyes changed.
The desperation was replaced by something else. Greed.
[Streetwise Alert: Intent Shift Detected.]
[Target Intent: Robbery.]
[Probability of Violence: 100%.]
"Seventy credits is a lot," the hunter said softly. His hand drifted toward his hip.
"It's a fair price," Julien said, his voice dropping an octave. "And I don't do discounts."
The hunter laughed. It was a nervous, twitchy laugh.
"You know," the hunter said, looking around the empty shop. "You guys are new here and don't have a badge or any protection."
"We have excellent protection," Julien said, nodding at Chris.
"Him?" The hunter scoffed. "He's big, sure, but can he move faster than steel?"
SHING.
In a blur of motion, the hunter drew his rusty shortsword.
He pointed the tip directly at Julien's throat.