The shop was a treasure trove of mundane martial gear. There was wooden, copper, iron, leather, and even high-grade steel equipment. What caught my attention immediately, however, was a detail the system provided that seemed invisible to everyone else. As I looked at the items, I realized there was no equipment that displayed specific "attributes" or magical descriptions in the shop's own labeling. It made me wonder if the people of this world were unable to perceive the deeper potential of their gear, or if such items were simply not displayed here.
More interestingly, as I used my passive perception, I noticed that only some of the weapons and armor featured the small, white ‘○’ symbols I had seen before. The distribution of these symbols seemed somewhat random, yet there was a clear correlation with the quality of the material. Steel items, in particular, had a significantly higher rate of these markings.
I began a mental tally of the inventory:
- Copper Swords: There were more than 30 in stock. Only 3 of them possessed a single white symbol, and just 1 of them featured two symbols.
- Iron Swords: There was a similar amount, but I counted 6 iron swords with a single symbol and 2 that possessed two white symbols.
- Steel Swords: The shop had 20 in total. 6 of them had one white symbol, 2 featured two symbols, and a single, exceptionally crafted blade possessed three white symbols.
After the merchants had finally finished their bargaining, I approached the shopkeeper and asked if the prices of the swords varied based on any specific markings or quality nuances. He looked at me with a bored expression and stated that all swords of the same material were priced identically. It was the confirmation I needed: they were entirely unaware of these symbols. To them, every steel sword in that rack was the same, but to me, one was objectively superior.
Once the trade for the bandit gear was finalized, we counted our gains. The normal bandits hadn’t possessed much high-quality equipment, so the bulk sale only yielded 4 gold coins. As per our agreement, I received 2 of those coins.
With my purse feeling heavier, I decided it was time for an upgrade. I spent 10 gold coins on that specific steel sword—the one with the three white symbols. I had a strong suspicion about what those symbols represented, but I knew the true nature of the blade would only be revealed once I tested it in combat. I also purchased a sturdy iron shield that possessed two white symbols. To balance the cost, I sold the iron sword I had looted from the bandit leader, Selbert. The transactions more or less balanced each other out, leaving my finances in a respectable state.
“It is done. Mr. Han, Copez. It was good to meet you both. We even managed to walk away with a decent profit,” Malikstein said, offering a curt, professional bow. “It is time for us to depart now.”
“Yeah, it was nice to meet you, Malikstein,” I replied. “I’ll be sure to drop by your store if I find myself in need of accessories.”
I was still wearing the ring I had taken from the bandit leader. Knowing it possessed a beneficial trait made me eager to find other jewelry with similar bonus features, though I knew such things were likely expensive.
“You certainly should,” Malikstein said with a final nod before turning to lead his caravan away.
With that, we parted ways. Our time together hadn't been long, but it had been meaningful. I had gained my first taste of real combat and my first significant earnings in this world. As I watched Malikstein disappear into the crowd, I realized that I would eventually need to find a specialized jeweler once I had much more money at my disposal.
“It is time for me to leave as well, Han,” Copez said, pulling my attention back. “I’ll be staying at the inn next to the bazaar for a few more days to finalize some trades. I will be heading back to the frontier after that.”
“I understand. Thank you, Copez,” I said sincerely. “I learned a great deal from you. Let’s meet again sometime later.”
I offered a final goodbye as Copez steered his carriage toward the bazaar. And just like that, I was truly alone. Since arriving in this world on that straw bed in Hajzenfels, I had always had someone nearby—Grandpa Tariq, Othrik, or Copez. Now, for the first time, the weight of my isolation settled over me. I stood in the middle of a bustling city street, a stranger in a strange land, and I realized that if I didn't find a purpose quickly, the silence of my own thoughts might lead to depression.
Collecting my wits, I navigated the streets toward the inn Copez had recommended. It was located not far from the primary trade district where the shops were clustered. The building was a solid, four-story stone structure that looked well-maintained and respectable.
I stepped inside and found the interior much more spacious than the exterior suggested. The ground floor was wide and open, serving as a common room with various tables and chairs for travelers to rest. Directly opposite the entrance sat a sturdy reception desk. The man behind it looked up as I approached.
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“Hello, welcome. I am Stephen, the owner of this inn. How can I help you?” he asked, standing to greet me.
“I’m looking for a room. Do you have anything clean and available?” I asked, wanting to gauge the quality of the establishment.
“Yes, sir. All of our empty rooms are thoroughly cleaned daily. We have standard rooms available on the second and third floors, and more luxurious accommodations on the fourth floor,” he explained.
“How much for a night?” I asked.
“It is 1 silver coin for a normal room. That price includes a supply of hot water and a fresh towel every evening after the meal. If you wish to have breakfast or dinner here, it is an additional 10 copper coins per meal. The rooms on the fourth floor are 5 silver coins, but breakfast and dinner are included in that price, and you can request extra hot water at any time.”
The pricing was fair. Having meals provided on-site meant I wouldn't have to spend my limited time hunting for food every day.
“Okay. I’ll take a normal room. Here is 1 silver and 20 copper coins for the room and two meals,” I said, counting out the coins. “Can you make sure dinner and breakfast are ready for me when the time comes?”
“Yes, sir. Here is the key to your room. You’ll find it on the second floor,” Stephen confirmed, handing over a heavy iron key.
“Thank you. I have some business left to attend to today, so I’ll be back in about an hour or two. I’ll take my dinner then.”
“Sure thing. We’ll have it ready for you whenever you return.”
With my living situation secured, three primary tasks remained on my list: gathering information about the local dungeons, revisiting the slave merchant to see his inventory, and purchasing basic everyday items like clean underwear and socks.
I decided to prioritize the Dungeon Raiders Guild. Information was the most valuable resource I could possess before stepping into a labyrinth. Since I was in a city that practically revolved around its dungeons, the guild was located in the very center of Targashar, making it a short walk from the inn. It was a wide, impressive two-story building that buzzed with activity even as evening approached.
When I entered, I was met with a wall of noise. The air smelled of cheap ale and old leather. Groups of armored men and women were chatting or eating at large communal tables, while others crowded around large notice boards on the walls, likely looking for quests or new party members. I joined the queue at the reception desk and waited patiently.
When it was finally my turn, I was greeted by a dark-haired woman. She wore neat, professional clothes that reminded me of a modern office worker. It was a strange sight in a fantasy setting, yet it felt exactly right for the bureaucratic heart of the guild.
“Hello, sir. How may I help you today?” she asked, her voice clear and professional.
“I arrived in the city today and I plan on entering the dungeon tomorrow for the first time,” I stated. “I’m looking for some useful information for a beginner.”
“Of course, sir. May I have your name and current job first?” she asked, her expression remains neutral.
“My name is Han. I am a Swordsman,” I answered without hesitation. I knew the guards at the gate had seen my job as ‘Villager,’ but I had already told Copez and the others that I was in the city to officially change my job. This was simply the continuation of that cover.
“Okay, Mr. Han. It is a good thing that you are already a Swordsman,” she said, offering a faint, encouraging smile. “That means you have a high probability of successfully becoming a Dungeon Raider.”
“How so?” I asked, though I suspected there were specific requirements involved.
“To become a Dungeon Raider, you must enter a dungeon at least once. However, simply stepping inside is often not enough. You must gain sufficient battle experience and defeat enemies within the labyrinth before you can attempt to change your job. But when a Swordsman attempts the transition after a single delve, they are almost always successful.”
It seemed there was a hidden "pre-requisite" logic to the jobs in this world. I suspected the system looked for a Level 10 Villager or a similar combat foundation before allowing the Raider job to stick.
“I understand. So, tell me... what exactly is the dungeon?” I asked, wanting to hear the local perspective.
“Its true nature is still unknown,” she explained. “Many scholars believe dungeons are a unique form of life. They appear to act with a primitive intelligence. They consume the bodies of those who die within them, and if no one enters to cull the population for a long period, the dungeon begins to 'spawn' monsters into the outside world. This makes them a direct threat to nearby settlements, which is why the nobility keeps them under strict control.”
“I see. Are there any specific conditions for entry?”
“No, there are no restrictions. Because dungeons are such a potent source of income, even people with simple Villager jobs enter the upper floors. They rarely manage to descend very deep, of course, but the entrance is open to all.”
This was excellent news. I wouldn't have to deal with any bureaucratic red tape or entrance fees.
“Do people really make that much money from the delve?”
“Absolutely. As long as you and your party can consistently defeat monsters, you can earn a living. Monsters drop Obscura coins upon death, with the value increasing significantly on the deeper floors. That alone is enough for many to survive. Beyond the coins, monsters often drop materials used in crafting or alchemy, and very rarely, they drop skill crystals. Those crystals are incredibly valuable and can be sold for a small fortune.”
“Thank you very much,” I said, feeling my mood lift. “Can I sell those items here at the guild?”
“Of course. We purchase all dungeon-related materials and Obscura at a competitive price.”
“That’s very helpful. Thank you again.”
“You are quite welcome, sir,” she replied cheerily. She reached under the counter, pulled out a sheet of parchment, and handed it to me. “Here.”
“What is this?” I asked, looking at the intricate lines.
“This is a map of the first floor. We provide the first map for free to all new raiders. We have maps for the deeper floors as well, though those are not free,” she said, her tone shifting slightly toward that of a businesswoman.
It was a clever strategy. Once a raider became accustomed to the safety of a map, they would be far more likely to pay for the next one. I took the parchment, thanked her once more, and left the building. I had my base of operations, I had my gear, and I had my map. Tomorrow, the real adventure would begin.
[Edited]