Chapter 4: The Market

Streets somewhat bustling with life, street vendors trying to encourage potential buyers, and adventurers trying to go through the city. The cramped nature of city life suffocated this sniper's senses as people eyed him up and down. Truthfully, he didn't exactly hate city life outright, but because of the world he's found himself in as well as the fact that humans are still no different in this world than in the prior. He held firm the handle of his bayonet, ready for a knife fight at the drop of a hat. His cloak was enough to discourage any cutpurse or pickpocket, however muggers and brawlers would still pose a threat.

Having a weapon at quick-draw notice would end a confrontation as quickly as it started. With this air of caution, he eyed the street vendors in case they would have items that would prove valuable on his journey, items such as extra cloth, canvas material, threads, things he can use to repair or restitch clothes or use as bandages. He passed some seamstresses and merchants selling silks and such threads, but for his uses, they were all too brittle or weak for the purposes he needed them for. He kept walking, looking for the butcher so he may acquire meat jerky of some kind as well as going to the apothecary for some dried fruits maybe, if not then for some flour there.

It was strange to him that wheat flour would be with the apothecary, but it somewhat makes sense since he had time to really think about it. The farmer is simply just the supplier, the apothecary is the producer as they actually do things with the produce. Though, even still, the sheer size of this city and its market could not be understated. It was quite large, it wasn't simply 'quite' large, it was actually large. Still, even a seven meter wide street with an additional 3 meters either side was cramped for him.

Alexiye couldn't help but eye-up every passerby. His distinct instincts making him acutely aware of the presence of others, he had awful feelings from just being in a crowd of people. Mostly due to the fact that as a gun for hire, any people close to him was a red flag.

Even with these awful feelings, he pressed on, rolling his eyes as he passed the Red Light district and some ladies eyeing him up like a tasty morsel. Shivering after feeling one of their intents being particularly luscious in desire. 'Vyysuki na, stop looking at me, damn it' he thought, almost praying that the women looked away. Half fearing that amongst them were demons or worse, succubi spies. He slinked off faster with that thought. Not stopping to look back and now intently searching for what he needed and focused on the task at hand. The Butcher was easiest to find, they usually had out-bound adventurers lined up for the same purposes as him.

Maybe not the same reason or quest, but certainly the same reasons. Frankly, his luck was high because of the daylight, these adventurers were still milling about. He got in line and thought upon his coinage, trying to calculate how much Jerkies would cost around this time. Inflation isn't much of a thing since a lot of these coins were made using rare and unique metals. To get them to shape like this and to counterfeit them would be an exercise in futility. It'd be more expensive to counterfeit them than it would be to make the actual coins. Regardless, precious metal is still precious metal. Getting to the front, he asked the usual adventurer question,

"What Jerkies you got on sale?"

"Go around the alley to the side, that's where my assistant handles those"

"Understood"

Turning the corner was business as usual, although he already was thinking about CQC and CQB maneuvers and eyeing up potential cover and concealment when his Sixth sense again flared up. He swung wide and wielded his Bayonet which was hidden underneath his cloak. But saw the blur from his outer eye. He swung tighter again as he dove backwards. Of course it was hard to identify the target, but in such close quarters, it was going to be a kill, regardless of what he wanted to do.

Out of his cloak, his arms came, A sixteen inch bayonet in-hand, and a killer glare in his eyes. "Woah-Woah-Woah! Okay there sir, calm down!" his eyes narrow and the grip on his blade grows firmer, "I'm the assistant, the Butcher's wife"

"I asked not for your identity."

"Just, lower the blade"

"Why did you sneak up on me?"

"Please lower your blade"

"Answer, or I'll be your butcher"

His eyes began to adjust and before him was a Catwoman of some kind, she did appear afraid, so her tail or tails were sticking straight up behind her, he sighed but barely averted his gaze. He eased up a tiny bit before he lowered his bayonet. He made the motions and sounds of him sheathing his blade, but kept it drawn.

"I still need jerkies, if you are the assistant, you should use the shop itself to get back here instead of coming from behind the adventurers or mercenaries"

"Y-yes sir!"

She waddled slowly, showing her back to him but still tense and scared. Two tails.

"Ah, a Nekomata." he acknowledged, "It's my fourth time I've seen your kind." she nodded at his remark. They slowly came to an indentation of the Butcher's building with a little bit of smoke billowing from a tall metal device. A Smoker of some kind, for certain. He took quick notice of another individual standing in the alcove already.

The Nekomata squatted down and went into a fetal position as his killing intent washed over her. He nearly struck her down for lying to him, thankfully he observed the person obscured by the smoke was a shorter human. Likely the Butcher's Son or some kind of family member. "You have some explaining to do, Miss Nekomata, twice I nearly killed you because I perceived deceit." he said, looking down at her angrily, "You see, I have been hunted down by all sorts of monster girls, I am not taking anymore chances." he added, "Explain things, or there will be no misunderstanding that will save your head from being separated from your body"

"YES SIR!" she cried out, "Y-you said you need Jerkies, they're right there. My Nephew can tell you the p-prices!" she said scurrying away quickly to the backside of the building, followed by a slamming of a door. Of course, he just sighed before turning to the kid. "So, are you the Butcher's Assistant?" he asked, "Well, I was supposed to help that one with selling the meat, but for now I guess I am the seller." the boy said

"As a Sellsword, it's not necessarily easy to trust a Monster Girl, they're rather infamous for their deception and honeyed words."

"I think I understand, but not really."

"You are rather young, I don't believe you'd understand quite yet. -Anyway, let's see the meats"

The young man opened the smoker. Hanging from the higher parts were the jerkies. An impressive line-up in such a rather small Smoker. He begins to point to the various meats and relays their respective information. Price, quality, stock, and how long they'll last. For a young man, he was rather well-spoken. Truly drove a bargain too, negotiating a price was competitive for once.

The price of preserved foods was quite low. Though it could be him misremembering the market prices from nearly two decades ago when he last undertook a lengthy-ish expedition with a group of others to confirm the northern mamono region in that valley. With preserved foods now in his kit, he left for a proper inn and a tavern. The sun was beginning its descent but it would be a while yet before it does so. The streets seemed busier than before, late-day rush of some sort for sure. He paid extra close attention to his surroundings, weary of any pair of eyes that looked at him. A firm grip of the Bayonet in his hands was a reactionary caution, milling about the crowd and scanning for an inn or tavern.

Drunkards poured out of an establishment named 'The Snakeoil Roundtable', or so proclaimed the sign above the entrance, or what he assumed to be the entrance. Into the establishment he went and to a vacant seat he walked. The lively tavern filled with clinking tankards, lively adventurers, and bustling servers carrying trays of silver around to patrons. One took notice of the new face amongst the crowd, sitting alone at a discarded table off to the side of the serving area. A rather lovely young barmaid approached Alexiye, "So, what'll you have sir?"

Author's Note:

Hello again people! I have returned with another addition to Alexiye's story. This one really doesn't have much going on aside from the search around for the Butcher. This chapter less focuses on story progression as it does try to highlight Alexiye's mistrust in people and his rush to violence when feeling betrayed. Alexiye may have a sharp eye but he's still human. Regardless, I think this schedule of every 9th and 20th being releases is sustainable. . . I say that, but I have been finding myself procrastinating a lot and having to battle what I want to do versus what I should be doing. Overall, the notifs I get from Fanfiction saying that all of these people are following along with Alexiye's tale really encourages me to keep writing. As I'm writing, however, I strive to improve. Also feel free to DM me or comment potential ideas you'd like Alexiye to go through because although his story has a a defined direction, the idea is more of a suggestion rather than concrete rules. There are events that must happen and things to have him go through, but these events are only to happen when I write the conditions for them to occur in the first place. Regardless of my ramblings, Have a good timezone people. Have a safe journey wherever you go, and lastly, Vodka be with you.

Sincerely, Soryuz