Hacking the Game Didn’t Go as Intended

“$7-7,200 silver?!” Daisuke exclaimed in a matchbox of a room.

Jean scratched her cheek with an awkward smile, but she did her best to maintain her decorum. “Y-Yes, that’s right.”

Matters warranting utmost confidentiality were moved into secure, soundproof rooms reinforced with magic. It was important that merchants felt secure and safe while conducting business with the guild.

Sitting across the table from Daisuke, Jean looked down at the «Magic Scale» again to verify the numbers. “$7,200 silver coins are equivalent to approximately seventy-two gold. After a six percent sales tax, your final total amounts to sixty-seven gold and sixty-eight silver.”

Daisuke swallowed, his eyes quivering as she slid the total amount of gold coins across the table to him that were arranged in a neat stack. He still didn’t have a comprehensive grip on the value of money, but he had a feeling seventy-two gold was a lot.

“Did you deduct the silver that I owe from it?”

Jean shook her head. “No, the written agreement is that it wouldn’t be due until the end of the month. Until then, be sure to spend wisely.”

“Thanks.”

***

 

“First things first,” Daisuke declared, his eyes drawn to the hanging signpost of the shoe and apparel store. “Nobody’s ever going to take me seriously dressed like this. As they say, the clothes make the man.”

With a jingle, the door announced his arrival, and he was promptly greeted by the establishment’s owner—a figure adorned in a remarkable outfit, topped by an even more impressive mustache.

The man’s gaze raked over Daisuke with skepticism, a quick assumption of a window shopper or potential thief apparent in his scrutiny—likely both. “Are you certain you’ve located the proper establishment?” he said by means of introduction.

“Well, based on your manners, I’m beginning to question that myself,” Daisuke retorted, flashing his coin purse with a certain theatrical flair.

The transformation in the shopkeeper’s demeanor was notable, his carefully coiled mustache unraveling in a rush of enthusiasm. “Oh! My apologies, Sir,” he bowed with a humbled tilt, his hands coming together in eager anticipation. “Welcome to Harrington Threads. How may I be of service?”

Daisuke regarded him blandly, pokerfaced. It’s amazing how quickly his tune changed the moment he saw some money. “I’m a merchant looking for something comfortable yet formal enough that I’m taken seriously. What do you recommend?”

“Ah, indeed. We are certain to have just the ensemble for such an occasion. Please, right this way.”

It took some time, but like the money-driven merchant promised, Daisuke eventually emerged from the establishment, a neatly folded bag clasped in his hand.

By the time he stepped outside, the sun was already dipping behind the distant peaks, and many people started returning to the town from their respective hunting grounds.

“Why don’t we find a nice inn for the night?” Zephyr’s head popped out of his shirt at the suggestion. “Definitely don’t want to chance staying in the woods again. I might not be so lucky next time.”

“Rawrwu~”

***

 

Entering the inn felt like a slap in the face.

The air reverberated with a medley of laughter, conversations, and the occasional clink of tankards. The inn’s patrons spanned an array of species, each exuding their own unique aura of adventure. Shockingly, there were a few burly dwarves mingling with tall, graceful elves, and sturdy humans chatting animatedly with Beastfolk.

Sure enough, Daisuke’s entrance didn’t escape notice; curious gazes from the assorted patrons flickered his way, evaluating the newcomer who seemed to disrupt the ongoing festivity. Ignoring the prying eyes, he kept his head straight and continued forward. His destination was the inn’s wooden counter.

Behind it stood a large middle-aged woman, her stern expression accentuated by the ladle clutched in her hand. She was a woman who commanded respect, and her presence exuded an air of authority that no amount of noise could overshadow.

“A room for the night, please,” Daisuke requested above the rambunctious atmosphere.

The woman’s gaze narrowed with a trace of suspicion. Her lips twitched as if attempting to suppress a sigh, but she maintained her composure. “Coin first,” she grunted, her demeanor neither welcoming nor hostile.

“How much?”

“Three gold, but you get a fifteen percent discount if you stay for at least four days.”

“No thanks, I’m still putting my plans into perspective.”

“Is that so?” she muttered, pocketing the coins that were slid across the table. She issued a key and pointed in the direction of the rooms. “Up the stairs, third door on the left. Supper’s complimentary, so be back down in an hour.”

“Is there a place I can get cleaned up?”

“There’s a well behind the building. Help yourself.”

“Thanks.”

***

 

SPLASH.

Zephyr’s gaze lifted, completely deadpan.

The deluge of water that had cascaded over him made his fur look like that of a sulking carpet. Before Daisuke could set aside the pail and even contemplate scrubbing him clean, Zephyr sprung to life with the nimbleness of a breeze. He shot off with an uncanny speed, water droplets flinging from his drenched coat in a playful display of defiance.

“Hey, you rascal!” Daisuke recoiled, chasing the mutt in just a pair of undergarments. “Get back here! Halt, you furry whirlwind!”

Daisuke’s futile attempts at capturing the fluffy beast only seemed to invigorate Zephyr’s playful antics. A spirited dash in front of a large basin culminated in a vigorous shake, sending a barrage of cold water droplets raining down upon Daisuke like tiny needles.

“C-C-Cold!” he stuttered while seeming to dance on tiptoe.

“Why you! Get back here!” Daisuke protested, his voice caught between frustration and amusement.

He hurled himself at the canine, and Zephyr shot between his legs in retreat, which made him unbalanced. He toppled and fell headfirst into the large basin of water.

Unamused, Daisuke turned around, bubbles rising to the top of the water from his still submerged nose and mouth. He looked to Zephyr, where he was met with a wagging tail and the exuberance of a creature thoroughly content in its momentary triumph.

The ensuing skirmish between man and mischievous mutt spanned a duration of half an hour, highlighted by a series of splashes and the unmistakable sound of a playful tussle. Daisuke emerged from the ordeal soaked to the bone but victorious, as Zephyr stood before him cleansed and dripping, a look of petulance on his face.

By the time the battle of water and wills had concluded, Daisuke had earned his place at the supper table through sheer perseverance.

The innkeeper made her way around the counter, her steps sure and determined. In her hands, she carried a wooden tray laden with a hearty meal, steam wafting up from the dishes.

With a finesse that reflected years of service, she set the tray down before him. Daisuke’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of the sumptuous feast.

“Enjoy your meal,” the innkeeper said in a voice that held the weight of years of tending to weary travelers. Her tone was gruff yet not without warmth.

Daisuke picked up his utensils, his hands steady as he began to partake in the offering. The flavors exploded on his palate, a symphony of tastes that danced with each bite. His taste buds were treated to a melody of carefully seasoned meat, savory vegetables, and freshly baked bread.

“It’s… delicious,” Daisuke breathed the compliment like it was a prayer, tears welling up in his eyes.

The innkeeper was caught off guard, and a blush stained her otherwise hard visage. “Y-You’re too much. It’s not that great.”

“No… it’s really amazing!!

Her blushed deepened. Then she tilted her chin and peeked at him from one eye, her hands resting on her hips. “In that case, I’ll give you this one-time service—breakfast tomorrow will be on me.”

Daisuke beamed.

“Aww… Gretchen found herself a man,” teased one of the patrons who evidently had one too many.

“Kinda on the young side, isn’t he?” voiced another.

“Well, if that’s your kink.”

“Ha-ha! Kid, something must be wrong with your tongue if you consider this slop food.”

WHAM!

Gretchen’s trusty ladle found its mark—right between his eyes. While she barreled toward them like a hippopotamus, Daisuke was busy slipping food under the table to Zephyr.

I can’t tell the last time I had something so good; whenever we seldomly got a chance to cook at Dusthaven, the food was always terribly bland. Seasoning is a heck of a thing, isn’t it?

He brought the wooden bowl to his mouth and shoveled in the last of the potatoes and carrots from his soup.

I wish mom and the others could be here to share this experience with me. Once I get to Gold or Mithril Rank, I’ll use my connections to find April and the others. Together, we can work to grow the business to the Orichalcum rank, then everyone can manage their own store.

 

Fear of monsters & the unknown: 1%