Goblin Slayer - Volume SS1.01 - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – Shopping Expedition Getting Equipment

She could still remember clearly why they had fought. 

They must have been about eight years old. 

She had been invited to come help with the cows on her uncle’s farm, as the animals were about to give birth. Looking back now, she knew that it was just an excuse to give his niece a chance to enjoy herself, but at the time, she had been totally unaware of that. 

She would go to town, get a job, and get to ride in a carriage all by herself. She was overflowing with joy and excitement. She felt like she had suddenly become a real grown-up. Now she knew how foolish that was. 

She remembered bragging to him: “Pretty cool, huh! You’ve never even been to town, have you?” 

The boy lived next door to her and was two years older than her. Maybe that was why her condescending tone rankled him so much. 

It was why she couldn’t bring herself to simply say, “Want to come with me?” She wanted him to be the one to say he wanted to go so that she could puff out her chest proudly and say, “Sure!” 

But he just stood there with his fists clenched, staring at the ground. 

The proximate cause of what she said next was very small. He shouted something, then she shouted something back, and the two of them got worked up over it. The fight ended with both of them weeping copiously. 

She never was able to make herself apologize to him. The argument went on until his older sister picked him up. 

When she got into the carriage the next day, only her parents were there to see her off. 

It meant the last thing she had ever seen of him was his back as his sister led him to their house, his hand in hers. 

She never saw him again. 

It had been five years already. 

§ 

“Er-errgh…” 

A rooster crowed in the distance. The morning sun’s rays pierced her eyelids mercilessly. 

She could hear someone working in the fields; her uncle must already be about his tasks for the day. She stretched out on her straw bed, but she was only delaying the inevitable. At length, she surrendered, crawling out from under the sheets, exposing her naked body to the bracing air. 

“Sooo sleepy…” 

She hardly felt as if she had slept at all. She arched her back, causing her well-developed body to jiggle. Her chest and her bottom stood out as especially round, almost embarrassingly so. She wondered why she was so much more developed than other girls her age (though admittedly, she knew few of them). Maybe she had just hit her growth spurt. 

Her generous figure, however, didn’t make her at all happy. She left her long hair to fall over her face as she stuffed herself into her underwear and then her clothing. 

She glanced at the window and thought of opening it but stopped. She just didn’t feel like it. 

When she got to the dining area, she saw a pile of rye bread in a basket on the table. There was a thin, cold soup waiting in the soup pot. 

She took a piece of bread, dipped it in the soup, and munched on it, offering up a small prayer of thanks to the gods for her food. 

Only after all this did she come outside, where she looked around and quickly spotted her uncle. 

“Good morning, Uncle.” 

“Ah, g’morning!” A smile split her uncle’s craggy, sunbaked face, and he stopped working long enough to greet her. He didn’t reprimand her for oversleeping. She bit her lip gently. 

“Say,” her uncle said. He trailed off before coming up with, “When I’m finished here, I’ve got some deliveries to make—” 

Without waiting for him to finish his sentence—do you want to come?—she shook her head and said, “No, thanks.” She somehow managed a smile and added, “I don’t need to go to…to town.” 

“I see,” he murmured, grimacing. She pressed a hand to her chest. “Sorry to trouble you,” her uncle said, “but could you let the cows out? We need them to eat well and fatten up.” 

“Yeah,” she said with a nod, “sure thing.” 

She went to the barn with her back hunched and her eyes down to let the animals out. She shook the stick in her hand, calling, “Here, cows! Come on!” 

The spring sunlight was pleasantly warm, a breeze running through the daisies that bloomed on the hilltop. 

Despite the lovely moment, her heart felt heavy and gray. 

What an awful dream. 

It was already five years ago. Or was it just five years ago? 

Five years since the farm on the outskirts of town had taken her in. And yet, look at her. 

I’m not a very good girl… 

Maybe they shouldn’t have anything to do with each other anymore. They only brought each other grief. It would be best if she could get him to just leave her alone, but she couldn’t abide the thought of letting him raise her without doing anything in return. For that matter, she wouldn’t be able to do anything on her own. She let out a deep sigh. 

She realized the cows had wandered to the border of the farm while she was lost in these thoughts. 

The road to town ran by on the other side of their fence, and some of the passersby traveling on it glanced at her. 

“…” 

She found herself oddly discomfited; she blushed and tried to shrink into herself. 

“Here, cows!” she called, trying to ignore the looks others gave her, but her shout came out almost in a whisper. 

It’s not like I’m doing anything unusual… 

She finally managed to calm down a bit, but the confusion of the world carried on. 

The migration of those who had been displaced or starved out by the battle with the Dark Gods five years earlier continued even now. Sometimes, it involved boys and girls not so different in age from her. In place of rucksacks, they carried whatever kind of bag they had on hand; some of them wore swords they seemed to have picked up along the way. All of them frowned and hurried along the road with a certain anxiousness. 

They’re going to go be adventurers. 

She knew it at a glance. In her memory, he had looked the same way. 

Adventurers. A word to make the heart flutter. Those people explored unknown ruins, fought monsters, found treasure, saved princesses, and sometimes even played a part in the fate of the world. 

She had heard that it was a party of adventurers who had been responsible for saving the world five years before. 

Many dreamed of becoming adventurers when they were recognized as adults at fifteen years old—or whenever they could pass for old enough. Some of them, of course, had lost homes, couldn’t learn a trade, or were otherwise left with no other choice. That didn’t take the sheen off the idea of an adventurer, though, and she knew that better than anyone. 

Besides, who knew? If things had been just a little bit different, it might have been her on that road. Or she might simply have been gone. 

Like him. 

“Ergh…” 

The thought caused a chill to spread from her stomach through the rest of her body. 

Shut it out. Forget everything except for what you have to do right now. 

The cows. Call Here cows, here cows, and then get off this road, quickly. She’d had enough of it. 

She looked up to take a count and make sure all the cattle were there. 

“Huh…?” She blinked. 

It was at that moment that she thought she had seen, mingled in the crowd, a familiar back… 

Had she imagined it? She rubbed her eyes with her sleeve. 

No. There’s no way. 

There was no way, but… 

“……” 

She stood silent, transfixed, unable to move a muscle. 

§ 

“Excuse meee! I’d like to register as an adventurer, please!” 

“Certainly, be right with you!” 

“Sorry—could you grab three bags of gold coins from the safe?” 

“Sure, right away!” 

“Make sure you mark down any potions you sell in the register. We have to balance the books tomorrow.” 

“Oh, of course! I’m on it!” 

“The map! Where’s the map?” 

“It’s on top of the— Here, I’ll get it!” 

“There’s a mistake in this paperwork! A wyrmling is a baby dragon; a worm is just a bug!” 

“Whaa?! I’m very sorry!” 

It was so busy that her head was spinning. Staff ran to and fro at the front desk of the Adventurers Guild. 

I don’t remember my training at the capital being quite like this…! 

New Staff Member dashed about like a jumping mouse at top speed, tears welling up in her eyes as she faced the paperwork. 

Naturally, it was the staff’s job to write out the quests brought to the Guild. Any mistake could be a matter of life and death for some adventurer. The Guild’s reputation would be shattered. 

Newly hatched or not, a dragon was a dragon. To confuse it with an insect was a mistake of the highest order. An adventurer might take up the quest thinking all they had to do was crush some bug, only to find themselves cooked by the creature’s fiery breath. 

Actually, at this level, maybe a worm would be even scarier… 

She took a second to cock her head in thought as she wrote furiously, wrapping a band around her belted-back sleeves. She thought she had heard about something called a purple worm that was supposed to be very strong. 

Concerned, she took out the Monster Manual and flipped through the pages. 

“So a purple worm is threat level twelve. And a newborn green dragon is…four?” 

That means I actually made the opposite of the mistake I thought I did. 

She had to do this sort of sleuthing for nearly every quest, and it did her no favors as far as keeping up with her work. There was so much to learn, and she had overtime every day. She got home just in time to have a little dinner and then collapse into bed. 

She didn’t have much time to get ready in the mornings; it was all she could do to slap on a little makeup and braid her hair. She felt a far cry from the urbane and sophisticated women, so lovely and neat, who she had admired. 

Just because she was well educated and came from a family of means and reputation didn’t mean she had any obligation to become someone’s pretty little wife. She understood the importance of making connections with prominent families in the larger world, ensuring that her father’s and husband’s work went smoothly. But there were others to take care of such duties. She, for one, was going to enter public service! 

And look where it got me. 

“Oh, here. Do the papers for all these goblin quests, too.” 

A pile of papers was deposited in front of her with a thump, and she thought she might burst into tears. 

I couldn’t become anyone’s wife even if I wanted to… I don’t have the time! 

The receptionist at the next desk saw the expression on the girl’s face. “Are you okay?” she asked. The new girl was constantly grateful for the kindness of this other woman, who had said she held a priesthood. 

“…Yes, I’m just going to…go get some water.” 

With things as hectic as they were, she didn’t even have time to brew the tea she so enjoyed. 

She got to her feet unsteadily, then worked her way over to the communal carafe and poured some water into a cup on which she had written her name. The water was tepid but still felt wonderful on her dry throat and lips. New Staff Member drank noisily, then let out a breath, phew. 

“Oof… My hand is cramping…” 

She rubbed her swollen hand reflexively and massaged her bleary eyes. 

Goblins again, huh… 

Goblins were, needless to say, the weakest of the monsters, the lowest of the NPCs. With roughly the same size, strength, and intelligence as children, they formed groups and lived in caves or ruins, from which they attacked villages and kidnapped women. They could be cowed into following someone stronger than themselves, but at heart they always believed they were the center of the universe, and it gave them great joy to torment those who were weaker than them. 

It was extremely typical for two or three goblins to try to steal livestock from a village, say, and for some group of local youngsters to drive them off. Only when things got quite bad would people go to the Guild. And as a rule, there was no end of “quite bad.” It was an almost daily occurrence. 

There was even a sort of tongue-in-cheek proverb: every time a party of adventurers forms, so does a goblin nest. 

She sometimes wondered why the state didn’t do something about them, but she was already at the end of her rope, and wondering was the most she could possibly do. 

It had been just five years earlier that the army of Chaos commanded by the Demon Lord had assailed the country like a storm. Even now, elements of his vanquished forces were being discovered throughout the land: Dark Elf assassins wandering at will among the shadows of the capital, plotting malice. Evil cultists practicing horrific rituals in the depths of underground ruins, seeking to revive him. Even necromancers in their houses and towers, using the dead for unspeakable experiments. 

Chaotic monsters rampaged across every corner of the map as well, doing what they pleased unchecked. 

Never mind the people who want to go fight some dragon off in the mountains. 

Goblins were among the most numerous monsters, but that didn’t change how pitifully weak they were. 

“It makes sense that adventurers might want to fight some other monster…” 

Even she didn’t like goblins, and all she had to deal with was the paperwork connected to them. It couldn’t be much more fun, she surmised, to go around killing them. 

If she had been told that, from now on, she had to spend all day, every day doing goblin-related paperwork, she would have made a fuss about it. 

New Staff Member gave another deep sigh, then got back to the reception desk waiting for her. She would have to get these goblin-slaying quests sorted out so that they could be posted on the board. Just the thought of it made her stomach churn, and tears sprung to her eyes that she had previously tried holding back. 

“Ughhh…” 

“Hey, cheer up,” her colleague said with a smile from the next desk. 

“Right…” 

“You know, doing your job is a way of serving righteousness. You should look a little more pleased about it!” 

Is this her way of comforting me? I’d be happier hearing it from a cleric of the Earth Mother, not the Supreme God, she thought insolently. Maybe a servant of the Earth Mother wouldn’t work me quite so hard… 

“Hey, have you even eaten lunch?” 

Even so, she was indescribably grateful for this display of consideration. 

New Staff Member shook her head, causing her braids to sway back and forth. “I haven’t had time…” 

“Oh, just go and eat. Quick, now! You can’t work on an empty stomach! Oops, here comes the next person!” 

“Great…” 

“Don’t forget to smile!” 

Despite her coworker’s urging, New Staff Member just couldn’t muster an appetite. She massaged her cheeks, trying to coax them into the smile she seemed to have so much trouble offering. During her training, she had smiled diligently at every adventurer, wished them the best of luck. But in the end… 

It’s because I got too involved with them. 

She had dark memories of the capital, of a time when she had nearly lost her innocence. Or—well, not quite, but to her, it felt like it. After all, he had been much too strong for a young woman to resist. It was nothing short of a miracle that she had gotten out of it. 

But still, I can’t send them off with a scowl. 

Smiling was just part of the job. 

She didn’t want to leave those accepting assignments with a sour taste in their mouths. Nor did she want them to misunderstand how she felt. But how much smiling was enough, then? 

As she took a moment of her precious time attempting to arrange the expression on her face, a silent presence appeared at the desk. 

“…” 

A boy stood there before her. 

“Er—ah,” she said, and the smile she had worked so hard to get onto her face abruptly vanished. 

He was about fifteen years old—a bit younger than New Staff Member, and only newly an adult. Wherever he had come from, the journey had left him looking bedraggled. 

Judging by his appearance, it seemed likely he was there to become an adventurer. But perhaps he had come from some village to file a quest. She couldn’t say. 

The boy, however, simply stared at New Staff Member, silent. He almost looked like he was glaring at her. 

“A-ahem, wh-what do you—? What can I do for you?” 

“No,” the boy replied, shaking his head. “Are you all right?” 

She didn’t quite follow his conversation. Flustered, New Staff Member looked to the neighboring desk for help. 

“Listen,” a man was saying, “can’t you lower the reward a little bit? I can’t pay this much for guards.” 

“Unfortunately, the amount is stipulated in our bylaws,” her colleague replied. “Perhaps if you took a lower-rank adventurer…” 

“I don’t want some amateurs or street thugs around my goods. I need people I can trust…” 

She appeared to have her hands full; help would not be forthcoming. 

New Staff Member had been told that, although it was less common now, there used to be many quest givers who tried to silence quest takers with violence. There were some suspicious characters who had fled the capital among whom such practices, so she heard, were still common. Hence, the work that the receptionists and other employees at the Adventurers Guild did was very important. 

A way of serving righteousness. Okay. 

She took a deep breath, then somehow managed to work the smile back onto her face. 

“Welcome to the Adventurers Guild! What can I do for you today?” 

“If you don’t mind, then, I’d like to register.” 

“R-registration, right! Ahem, just fill out this— E-eep!” 

She had scrambled through the papers on her desk a little too eagerly, and they went fluttering down to the floor. 

Yes, springtime was when the most people registered as adventurers, but that didn’t mean they always had the paperwork right on hand. 

As New Staff Member rushed to pick up the papers, the boy caught one in his hand. 

“Goblins…?” he asked. 

“Goblins? Oh…” 

She saw that the sheet of paper he had caught was one of the quests she had finally managed to write out. “Yes, it’s a…a goblin-slaying quest, but…” 

It was a simple one, at least by the standards of what tended to come to the Guild. The kind of quest you could find by the score anywhere on the frontier. 

“Goblins?” He seemed fixated on the word. She held out the paper without so much as glancing at the reward or any other information about the quest. “I request to slay goblins, then.” 

“Er, uh… It’ll be dangerous without a party.” 

The boy paused in thought for a moment, then said, “It’s no problem.” 

New Staff Member quickly searched her memory. She went to open the Monster Manual, which specifically said that even a party alone was not enough. She remembered hearing repeatedly that you needed more than a few people to take on a goblin quest; she had even made a note about it. 

And yet, the way to dissuade someone in a situation like this had completely vanished from her mind. 

In a slight panic, she flipped the pages of her notebook, then thought to simply show him the page in the manual. Oh, but could he read? 

P-please wait just another moment, she nearly said, but instead, at that exact second, there came a cute little grr sound. Blushing so hard she thought steam might come out of her ears, she pressed a hand to her stomach, but the sound came again. 

“This, ah, um, this is…” 

“It involves goblins, doesn’t it?” 

“Y-yes…” 

Did… Did he not hear me? 

She was mortally embarrassed by the growling of her stomach, but she decided to focus on the work of getting him registered. 

“All right. So can you read and write?” 

“I can,” he said. “I learned how.” 

Then he took the Adventure Sheet she held out for him. His letters were crude, but against appearances, he could indeed write. 

She had the distinct sense that if she spent too long watching him, her stomach would make another noise, so she quickly stamped the paper. 

“Now, where was it?” she muttered, searching the desk and taking out a quill pen. Yet, she couldn’t find the all-important rank tag. 

“Huh? Um…” 

“Here.” Her colleague slid her a porcelain tag, almost as if to say, What are you doing? 

“Thank you very much!” New Staff Member said with a bow of her head, but her coworker waved her off. 

Right, now… The rank tag is basically a copy of the Adventurer Sheet… 

New Staff Member took down the information as carefully as she could, being sure she got everything. Name, gender, age, class, hair color, eye color, weight, skills… 

One in fighter, one in ranger. Along with… 

“There, done!” She let out a deep breath and wiped the sweat from her forehead, mentally patting herself on the back. Then she slid the tag across the desk to him: a level marker for Porcelain, the tenth and lowest rank. 

“It’s very important, so please try not to lose it,” she said. 

“……” 

The boy silently accepted the small porcelain chip; he held it in the palm of his hand and stared intently at it. 

“U-ummm—?” 

“I understand.” 

Then he nonchalantly stuck the rank tag in his pocket and walked away with a bold stride. 

“Sheesh. What a prick.” 

These words came from the next person in line, a young man carrying a wooden stick that seemed to be a spear. A few of the other adventurers, new and old alike, glanced after the boy, who had gone in the direction of the workshop. 

New Staff Member wasn’t sure exactly what to say, but work was work. She refocused herself. 

“Welcome to the Adventurers Guild! What can I do for you today?” 

“Oh, I wanna register, too, please.” 

“Right away!” She forced herself to smile as brightly as she could. 

I need to learn how to smile better, right away. 

She was resolved, determined—and apparently not going to get lunch anytime soon. 

Come to think of it… When he asked if I was all right… 

Had he been referring to lunch? 

The thought hardly lasted a moment amid the busy swirl. Her colleague at the next desk was watching New Staff Member throw herself into her work with an exasperated expression. 

Later, she would come to intensely regret that she had not been able to help him more diligently. But that’s a story for another time. 

§ 

“Er, so, I don’t suppose you have any legendary swords on hand… Do you?” the young man asked, his eyes sparkling. All he succeeded in doing, though, was giving the workshop boss a splitting headache. 

“If I did, d’you think I’d have ’em just lying around in my shop?” 

“Of course not. Sure. What about a storied magical blade? Got any of those?” 

“You really think you just go to the store and buy those?” The boss rubbed his eyebrows and shook his head slowly. He almost just kicked the boy out but thought better of it. “For one thing, even a simple enchantment adds a zero to the price of any piece of equipment.” 

“Right, right… In that case, uhhh…” 

The young man looked eagerly at the weapons and equipment lining the shelves, the shine in his gaze undiminished. He picked up this and that experimentally. 

“Let’s start by talking about your budget,” the boss said. “I can’t sell what you can’t buy.” 

“Oh, y-yeah. Well, here,” the young man said, fishing in his pocket and producing a purse. “I want the most powerful weapon I can buy with this.” 

He wants the most powerful weapon! Of course he does! 

The boss, master of the workshop, heaved a sigh. This was a familiar song and dance. Some bright-eyed young person came in, having been raised on stories of adventure and now convinced that they, too, were a hero in waiting. Visitors as thoroughly ignorant as this young man were unusual, but it was only a matter of degree, not kind. They all wanted swords that were too big for them to use, or armor stripped down so far that the only thing it offered was mobility. 

The sum total of these kids’ knowledge consisted of some mangled ballad they had heard belted out by a drunken barfly in a tavern somewhere. Such songs were all the rage now, and there was nothing he could do about that, but as hardened as he’d become, it still frustrated him. 

The boss considered giving the boy a word of advice, but what good would it do? 

“Will a sword do for ya?” 

“Yeah. I think a sword sounds good.” 

The boss took the coin purse, resolving to find the earnest young man a suitable weapon. 

Should the sword be one-handed, or two? The young man was dressed in an outfit of relatively thick leather. The boss doubted it was really fit for someone who fought on the front row. 

“Don’t want a shield, or a helmet?” 

“A helmet? Nah. People wouldn’t be able to see my face.” 

The boss could hardly fault someone for wanting glory; he wasn’t about to criticize. Adventurers made their living by selling their faces and reputations. What else was there? 

I reckon there isn’t a man alive who hasn’t wished to be a hero at least once. 

“I won’t argue about the helmet,” he said. “But at least take a shield.” 

“I’ve never used one…” 

“Doesn’t matter.” 

The boy nodded listlessly in the face of the old man’s verdict. Well, he didn’t have to be enthusiastic. To the extent he listened to anything at all the boss said, there was hope for the kid. Hope, if nothing else. 

There were many who came in with beat-up old gear from their country homes or who made all their purchases without listening to a word he said. 

And when it came down to it, the old man could say what he liked, but he was not the one who would have to face monsters in battle. 

No matter what equipment you carried, you would die when it was your time—so perhaps he should simply let them do whatever they wished. It would be a shame for someone to let him sway their opinion, and then to die wearing equipment they hadn’t even wanted. 

No matter how stupid, or ugly, or ridiculous the equipment they wanted might have been… 

Who could mock any young person for the choices they made while deliberately taking their first steps out into the wider world? When the boss thought back to the very first time in his life that he had taken up a hammer and tried to forge a sword… 

“Hmm?” 

It was at that moment that another young person came into the workshop from the direction of the Guild reception area, walking boldly yet nonchalantly. 

“I need equipment.” 

“So ya do,” the old man said, involuntarily frowning at the curt declaration. 

The young man who had been in the middle of shopping pricked up his ears with boyish interest. The boss made a shooing motion at him and turned his attention to the youthful newcomer. 

He looks pathetic. 

The boy was in sorry shape, as if he had just come fleeing all the way from some far, rustic corner. 

“Do ya have coin?” 

“Yes,” the boy said, then removed a small leather pouch from around his neck and set it on the counter. It jangled as the money inside settled. 

The old man prodded open the pouch with one finger, then took out one of the gold coins inside and bit down on it. 

It wasn’t just leaf. These were the real thing. 

The grizzled shopkeeper brushed the flower pattern sewn into the purse, then eyed the boy. “Made off with Mommy’s purse, did we? Or perhaps Sister’s?” 

“…” 

For a second, the boy didn’t say anything; then he nodded. “That’s right.” 

The shopkeeper gave a dissatisfied snort. Was the kid joking or not? 

Either way, this was real gold in front of him, and a customer with cash was a customer he would do business with. 

“Right, then. What is it ya want?” 

“Tough leather armor and a round shield.” 

“Oh-ho,” the old man breathed. He took a fresh look at the boy, ignoring the dumbfounded expression on his previous customer’s face. 

Well muscled. Clearly a fighter. Probably multi-classed, maybe as a scout or a ranger. Neither would be unusual. 

“And for a weapon?” 

“A sword… One-handed.” 

“Obviously, given the shield. I think this is the one for you.” Without pausing, the old man grabbed one of the blades lined up behind the counter and handed it over. It was a steel sword. There was nothing especially unique about it, but it was a perfectly sturdy, serviceable weapon. 

The boy took it and put it in a sheath at his side. The weight caused him to lean slightly. 

Common enough with greenhorns. 

“The leather armor is on the shelf back there. Shields are on the wall.” 

“All right.” 

The boy forcefully corrected the lean, then marched over to where the old man had indicated. The furtive way in which he took some armor from the table and a shield from the wall made it look almost as if he were stealing them. The old man allowed himself to look nearly impressed for a moment. Suddenly, the other young new adventurer, who had seemed so cowed, moved. 

“H-hey,” he said, “did you just register today?” 

The boy didn’t answer out loud but nodded his head. 

That prompted the young man to smile and say, “Me too!” He puffed out his chest. “H-hey, how about you and I go on an adventure together?” 

“An adventure,” the boy echoed softly. The young man’s voice seemed to fly excitedly in the sky, while the boy’s veritably crawled on the ground. “Does it involve goblins?” His voice was brusque. 

“Hardly!” the young man exclaimed. His whole body seemed to shake with the eagerness to deny the idea. “I’m aiming a little higher than that. Forget goblins. I’m thinking unknown ruins and stuff…” 

“I want goblins.” 

“Huh?” 

“I’m gonna go slay goblins.” 

With that, the boy seemed to lose interest in the young man. He put on the armor with an unpracticed but relatively quick hand, then strapped the shield to his arm. It was small and round, and in addition to the strap, it had a handle. He grabbed it and took some gentle practice blocks. 

He stood with the shield at the ready, drew his sword, then sheathed it again. He tried moving a bit, then nodded. 

“I’ll take them.” 

“Pleasure.” 

“How much do I have left?” 

“About this much,” the old man said, pouring the contents of the purse onto the counter. He collected a dozen or so of the gold coins and swept them behind the counter. 

Now only a few were left. The young man muttered, “Rip-off,” earning a glare from the shopkeeper. 

“Preparing hard leather takes time. It’s not cheap,” he said. “If you don’t like it, shop somewhere else.” The old man would not commit the folly of skimping on the work of padding the leather after he had boiled it in oil. 

The boy, for his part, seemed unmoved by the comment; he touched each gold coin, counting them up. 

“Can I buy a potion?” 

“Next time you want one, get it at the reception desk. Not that I don’t have some here…” 

He accepted more money from the boy, exchanging it for two bottles he pulled out from behind the counter. A light-green liquid rippled gently inside them, and they smelled faintly of medicine. 

“An antidote and a healing potion. Good enough?” 

“Yes,” the boy said and put both bottles into his item bag. 

There was one coin left. 

“Is there anything else I should have?” 

“Hmm, let’s see, now… An Adventurer’s Toolkit, a dagger…” 

The old man looked the boy over from head to toe. He was clad in leather armor, a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. Combined with his bag full of miscellaneous items, he looked every inch the novice adventurer. 

“If you ask me…maybe a helmet.” 

“A helmet.” 

“Wait right there. I’ve a cheap one.” 

The boss walked back into the workshop’s storeroom. The young man, already done with his shopping, looked at the boy dubiously. He seemed to be thinking, in a word, What’s with this guy? or perhaps more accurately, What a weirdo. 

Finally, the young man shook his head and muttered, “Makes no sense to me,” and showed himself out of the workshop. 

At almost the same moment, the old boss emerged from the storeroom. 

“I’d suggest you wear one of these,” he said. “If you’re not too worried about whether people can see your face.” 

Then he placed the helmet he was holding on the counter. 

It was old, with horns growing out of either side. A devilish-looking thing indeed. 

§ 

The Adventurers Guild is busy as ever with comings and goings. How much does any one adventurer stand out in that crowd? His armor is brand-new, unblemished. He has a horned steel helmet. At his hip is a sword, and on his arm is a newly bought shield. 

What else can we call the young man in this gear but a novice adventurer? 

When he walks out the door and into town, nobody notices. 

Nobody would notice, either, if he never came back. 

Nobody at all.