Full Circle (III)

  “So... you broke Ascalon huh? Even if you are a provisional hunter now, what good do you expect to do like that—unarmed with nothing more than your bare fists and going up against creatures that have hides that are harder than steel?”

  “I’ll manage somehow, the unique skill I'm using now is the closest thing to an all-purpose power I’ll ever find. I think I might have to go at this barehanded until I can get another weapon. Ascalon’s busted, and it was originally Alice’s weapon anyway, so I’d like to put it to rest.”

  “Oh? Put it to rest, eh? That’s rather magnanimous of you, but have it your way I guess. She did entrust it to you after all so it's not my place to complain.” Ginny said simply, no longer showing much interest in the matter.

  “Thank you for the offer though, you’re actually kinder than you look, Ginny.”

  "Tsk." The woman frowned, brushing off his remark with a dismissive wave. That kind of reaction was typical for someone like her.

  “Anyway, even if that’s what you’ve decided on, it still wouldn’t sit right with me if you rushed into some dungeon and got yourself killed because you put too much faith in that skill of yours.”

  Cyril stared at her blankly, his expression crumbled into shock as soon as he read into her preemptive implication. “Wait... Ginny are you saying you’ll make something for me?” he asked, clearly taken aback.

  “Not for free, but yes.” Ginny answered calmly as she released the words on a cloudy puff of smoke. “I owed Alice a few favors y’know, well, its more than just a few—there’s too many to count but she just up and died before I got the chance to repay her. That’s why I'm taking my frustration out on you, kid. I hate being in debt to people, so unfortunately, you’ll have to bear the brunt of my gratitude until I even out the score.”

  “....”

  “What?” Ginny grumbled vehemently

  The sudden silence that fell over them was in no way comforting for anyone, not even Angelica who had been left with no choice but to observe their interaction in a turn-based manner as she stood there, completely out of touch with the issue at hand.

  As much as she’d wanted to interject, her upbringing deeply chastised such behaviors, in her world, it was seen as ill-mannered so for the time being, she decided to keep quiet.

  “Nothing, my bad for staring Ginny.” After a few seconds of inactivity, Cyril finally replied after collecting his superfluous thoughts.

  Ginny tsked again and continued in mock indifference. “...That so? Anyway, if you ever happen to come across any of those high-ranking monster corpses and ‘dungeon cores’—not the monster ones—feel free to bring ’em over. Monsters with tough hides or scales would be good—for example, something like a Wyvern or a Naga— yes! Those corpses are top tier! They’re to die for!” Ginny’s proclamation carried an odd sense of vigor within it, something Angelica wasn’t expecting. Her face flushed a bright red the moment the topic of dangerous A-rank monster corpses came up.

  “Umm...” Finally, Angelica reluctantly raised her hand against her better judgment. It wasn’t because she really wanted to join the conversation, but rather, because of a burning question she had.

  “Aren’t all hunters required to turn over all monster cores and the corpses of any monsters above B-rank to the association? Wouldn’t it be stealing if he kept it for himself?”

  “....”

  Blank stares were all Angelica got in response. Ginny looked between them, then back at Angelica. Once she realized the question wasn’t a joke, the silence cracked.

  "Hehehe... You really are an interesting little girl. A bona fide noble—a real flower. I like you! That’s the first time I’ve heard anyone frame it like that. Stealing from who, exactly?" Ginny burst into laughter, banging the counter a few times as she tried to compose herself. Then she stared Angelica down, her face lit with amusement.

  “Angelica, was it? You do know that electrical devices like cameras and stuff don’t work inside of dungeons, right? In fact, anything more advanced than a steam engine will probably fail because of the electrical issues, but anyway, the point is, the association doesn’t have anyway to monitor the spoils of a raid. Tons of hunters take it up on themselves to pocket the more profitable parts of their kills and sell it on the market themselves for a bigger cut.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Angelica’s face exploded in shock at the revelation; she looked as if she were being made aware of some fundamental truth for the very first time. Whatever image she had of the city in her mind was mistaken—Babylon wasn’t a perfect utopia for more reasons than one. Nowhere on the planet was. If there was ever a chance for a person to increase their own profits unimpeded and away from prying eyes, chances were, they would.

  After all, there was no shortage of places outside the walled city that were dying to get their hands on dungeon spoils.

  “No need to look so stupefied, kid. It’s not like the association doesn’t know what’s going on. They’re well aware of it; that’s why it hasn’t been classed as a crime. It’s more like a misdemeanor, if anything else. Unless the loot is particularly high class, you won’t really be penalized for it. In the case of what we just discussed, you can submit a petition to the association to obtain full access to certain types of loot, even up to A-rank, provided you had a significant role in its acquisition. So there, you don’t have to worry about breaking the ‘law.’”

  Ginny’s deep emphasis on the last word made it hard to believe she had much faith in it as a social construct. In theory, the rule itself made sense, Babylon was essentially constructed with dungeon diving at the core of its economy, and it attracted scores of people from across the country for precisely that reason. If the regulations regarding the spoils hunters obtained by risking their lives were too strict, the profession would begin to lose its appeal over time.

  “You sure know a lot about this stuff Ginny. I wasn’t expecting that from the shop's owner when I walked into this place.”

  “Did you picture the owner of this place to be some young, impulsive thug?”

  Feeling the pressure behind her gaze, Angelica nervously laughed as she half-heartedly mumbled the word ‘yes’.

  “Relax, I’m no one shady alright? It’s easier for everyone if I avoid certain people, that's why I like to keep things on the down low. Oh, but you’re an exception Angelica, I like that naivete of yours so feel free to stop by anytime.”

  Ginny produced a deviously shrewd grin on her lips, one that didn’t match up with Angelica’s rather purehearted smile.

  “Mhm, okay Ginny, I’ll be sure to whenever I have time.”

  “The next time you come here I’ll have a look at your rapier, it's a splendid weapon, but perhaps it could use a bit of refinement.”

  Angelica glanced at the weapon by her side, her brows narrowing in thought. "I’ll consider it. Having a talented artificer in the city would be incredibly convenient—sending this back home would be far too much trouble."

  “Then I’ll be looking forward to your return. And as for you Cyril, I think I have something that’ll fit you nicely back here, but it’ll take me a bit of time to string it together. I’ll have it sent to your dorm within a day or two. It's been here for a while so you can have it on the house.” she said, directing her gaze towards the backroom door.

  “Oh, sure, that would be great.”

  “Now scram, both of you.” Ginny demanded, not even allowing the boy’s brief moment of gratitude to settle. “I’ve got some things to prepare for my next customer, and they’ll be here within the hour, so I'd like to take some time and concentrate on this.”

  “Kicking us out just like that huh? It's the first time I’ve ever seen you being so conscientious Ginny. Must be some customer.” Cyril teased, his expression brightening with a sly grin. Alas, before he could even get three chuckles out a narrow vile filled with a strange purple liquid came flying at him.

  [Alert. The extra skill [Mobius] has detected an Incoming projectile.]

  Swiftly turning his body, Cyril jerked his neck away from the purple vial and watched as it shattered against an old stool near the entrance. Its contents spilled out, drenching the wooden seat in a sticky substance that sizzled fiercely. The frothy concoction bubbled and popped, foaming over the edge of the stool before dripping onto the floor, leaving a dark stain.

  "G-Ginny, can’t you be a bit nicer with your warnings—wait, that sound, is that acid?!" Cyril cried, horrified as he watched the stool being consumed by the spectral foam.

  "Not quite, my dear," Ginny replied with a devilish grin. "That's my own special concoction, a blend of potions whose effects have been amplified by crushed essence crystals. I call it Ichor. In theory, it should be about as strong as hydrochloric acid. Would you two like to see what it can do next? I’ve been meaning to test it on live bodies, you know... Hehehe."

  Ginny flashed a wicked smile, raising both hands. Between her ten fingers, she held thin vials, each containing a sloshing liquid of its own.

  Cyril had no idea what kind of effects the concoctions might have, but he didn’t want to find out. He was certain Angelica, who had gone pale, shared the same sentiment.

  "Angelica, let's go! We're getting out of here!" he shouted, twisting his body and rushing toward the only exit.

  "U-Uhm, thanks again, Ginny. Sorry for overstaying!" Even as the devilish vials of goo were hurled in their direction, Angelica still managed to find time to express her gratitude.

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