Adam Smasher, Level 1 Adventurer, Hestia Familia
He divided the cores taken from goblins and kobolds from the ones taken from the new ones, the big lizards. All in all, they managed one-hundred and forty three goblins and kobolds today, earning a sum of three-thousand five-hundred and seventy-five valis. That tracked with what he knew of the conversions, twenty-five vali per child or dog, and left them with seven lizards to turn in.
Much to his pleasure, the lizards were worth two-hundred each. Fourteen-hundred valis earned from seven lizards, round about forty percent of all their child and dog kills combined, just from some roughly bicycle-sized lizards. The real issue was their relative rarity, being far more infrequent than the other two seen so far.
The guildmeat tried to lecture them about something, and while that shit might work on Scrappy, Adam was too busy counting their payout to care. Two-hundred per lizard. That was about six eddies per lizard compared to the one point five eddies per dog or child.
Those numbers were still infuriating to him, but this level of increase from something that was still so easy to slaughter was promising. So after showing off, depositing their gains, and counting the cash, they made their way up the stairs on the guild tower.
Scrappy wanted to return the sword to the smith for whatever reason, and Adam didn't really care enough to argue. His hands and feet were more than enough to slaughter their paychecks, and the kid still had a dagger to use if nothing else. So they asked where this 'Bruni' was and got directions up to another floor. Apparently one of the local corps rented out a tower level to set up their shops, and 'Bruni' had a stand in there.
Four-thousand nine-hundred and seventy five… That was around… one hundred and fifty eddies? They spent six hours down there, and there were two of them, so that meant about…
Adam frowned at nothing as they ascended. Then he went back over his math just to make sure he got it right, and frowned harder.
Twelve fifty an hour. Maybe a twenty-five cent increase on their per-hour wages, and that was only a given from the lizards. Clearing out each floor wasn't worth it at all. Too much time spent to gain too little, which explained why the fuckers with the fancier gear just immediately went deeper instead of trying to clean out the higher floors.
The higher floors weren't worth a goddamn.
They needed bigger bags and deeper floors.
Reaching the next floor, they were greeted by the sounds of bustling work, hammers on metal, shouting of haggling merchants, and the smell of burning charcoal. All very familiar to him, but not in this specific combination. Glancing over at the sign, he realized he couldn't read it and frowned deeply, before ignoring it and glaring dead ahead.
"Hello! Welcome to the Hephaestus Quarter! Are you looking for something in particular?" A cheery call came out, bringing their attention towards the voice. Adam stared in something that was almost amusement at the child dressed in pastel shaded dress and fluffy apron, standing on a small stand and holding a stop-sign shaped sign with yet more words he couldn't read.
"Ah! Uh… We're looking to return a sword-" Scrappy began, causing a dark shadow to pass over the child's eyes, before Scrappy continued. "My familia member found it on a… a body…" Scrappy trailed off awkwardly. The child lost the dark expression, and their eyes took on a much more understanding light.
"Ah, I understand. May I see the sword?" The child held a hand out, prompting Scrappy to hand it over. One-handedly, the child raised the sword to inspect the hilt region, before nodding and handing the weapon back. "Bruni is in section E Major, see on the sign?" The child flipped the board attached to a pole around to reveal a floor plan and a list of locations, completely with a little star that signified 'you are here'.
"She'll be the twelfth shop on the right." The child finished with a serious looking nod. "It's very kind of you to do this, so on behalf of the Haephestus Familia, I thank you."
Adam rumbled noncommittally as Scrappy bowed and blushed. You get embarrassed entirely too easily brat, all she said was thank you. Then, finished with his 'thank you for thanking me' routine, Scrappy got a move on through the wide central halls of this floor and then down one of the side halls.
Halls wasn't quite accurate, this was a rather open floor, with many of the central 'stalls' being mostly open air affairs full of wares, swarthy meats in aprons, and haggling customers. It was more like a roadway with a roof over head, and Adam couldn't reasonably tell why this wasn't just put outside somewhere instead.
Modern architecture never ceased to amaze him in how wastefully 'artistic' it was.
But going down this central way let him get a good estimation for what the 'top shelf' equipment cost. Judging from the zeros, and converting back to eddies, they had similar price tags to the stuff he would buy back in his real body. Tens or hundreds of thousands of eddies per item, rarely a bit over one million.
So similar scales seemed to hold true, his estimation for prices seemed to be accurate thus far. Scrappy, on the other hand, would occasionally see a price tag with seven zeros and promptly stumble over his own feet. Ain't you embarrassed kid? It's just big numbers. The economy is all fake anyways.
Actually talking was entirely too much effort though, and Scrappy hadn't earned that much help from him. He could figure it out on his own.
Eventually, they came to an open wooden door and a sign that probably said something but Adam didn't care to look anymore. Instead, he glanced down at the kid and questioned "Twelfth on the right in E Major?"
Scrappy nodded, before stepping through the door and glancing around. Adam helped out by loudly knocking on the doorframe.
"Just a minute! I'm in tha back!" Came a gruff female call. Stepping inside, Adam could see a great many shelves with a great many items, all with a somewhat unified aesthetic. Squarish shapes dominated much of their overall silhouettes, and many were decorated with braided knot-like designs either imprinted or carved into their various shapes and bends.
Walking over to the counter, Scrappy following close behind, Adam took a moment to glance at the prices. The most expensive item was a large rounded shield, big enough to completely cover the kid, and currently being sold at a 'astonishing discount' of ten-thousand valis. Running the conversion in his head again, that was about three-thousand eddies for what looked like a big plate made of steel.
He didn't bother frowning, either there was a trick to it or it was overpriced, he didn't really care enough to investigate.
"Welcome to Bruni's Bonkers, I'm Bruni, How can ah help ya?" A voice brought his attention back to the counter that he was leaning on. Looking over and not seeing anything, he glanced down and spotted the source of the voice. A female meatbag, perhaps about half his height and change, with fat tits and well-tanned skin. Currently wearing an apron and oversized smithing gloves, and standing on a stool to be tall enough to effectively use the counter.
Scrappy started talking, so Adam busied himself by staring at her tits. The top was unbuttoned and she was currently sweaty. Not bad overall, he'd rate it maybe seven out of ten. "My familia member found this sword on a… uhh… body. So we're here to return it."
The fuckmeat turned her gaze over to Scrappy and a slightly frown grew on her face. "Ah… Well I'd say you didn't need to go that far, ah don't do installment plans so it was already paid for, but it's certainly a nice thing to do ah suppose. Lay it up ahn here ah suppose." She leaned forwards to pat the countertop, letting Adam get a slightly deeper view of her cleavage.
Scrappy brought the sword up and laid it across, causing a frown to grow on her face as she stared at the blade.
"Yeah ah recognize it. Shrimpy fella named Armin ordered it. It's not like him tah take risks in the Dungeon though, he's too chickenshit for it." She reached forwards, grabbing the blade and lifting it up for inspection. Curiously, she raised it in a way that pressed up her chest, inspecting the seal and the wear on the weapon.
Adam raised a brow, she was absolutely doing this on purpose. Scrappy still hadn't even realized it yet. Deciding to keep the story straight he spoke up at that. "Wasn't in the Dungeon."
She glanced up, locking eyes with him at that. He continued, rumbling out an answer. "Corpse was in a slum alley, so I took his cloak and sword and moved on. Kid here insisted on returning it." He gestured a thumb over at Scrappy, who looked sheepish but firm. "I used it before letting the kid have it, then he used it for a bit, then noticed the branding. Here we are. Do you want it or not?"
She gave him a look up and down briefly, before chewing on her cheek in thought. "You weren't going to return it, ah reckon."
"Nope." He didn't care enough to do that. Killer's keepers.
"Well, least you're honest about it, that's all we can ask these days." She mused. "Ah suppose ah can give you a finder's fee, or you can keep it. It's already paid for after all, and ah don't mind."
"Your choice kid, I don't need it." Adam replied, leaning against the counter and glancing over at Scrappy, then back to staring at her tits.
"Ah suppose you got a better weapon huh? You some kind of high-roller walking around in the bad parts of town?" The fuckmeat asked challengingly, leaning forwards again and glaring into his eyes.
"My fists are better than any normal ass sword, woman." Adam confidently declared, not bothering to adjust his gaze.
"Normal ass sword my sweet ass!" She declared, raising the blade to interrupt his view of her cleavage. He slowly adjusted his stare up to lock eyes with the fuckmeat with a frown. "Gobrist here is a genuine Smith-made sword, she'll always leave a scratch no matter how tough their hide!"
"...Aren't all swords made by smiths?" Adam asked, furrowing his brows.
She blinked at him, confused for a moment. Then a look of realization came to her face and she asked. "How long you've been an Adventurer for?"
"Two days. Scrappy here has been at it for three." Adam replied, bored. He reached up and pulled the sword down with one finger, letting him stare at her tits again. She let out a bark of laughter and didn't try to stop him.
"A-Adam-san!" Scrappy finally noticed where his gaze had been the whole time, and grabbed at his arm to start trying to shake him.
"You're a cocky little level one, eh?" Fuckmeat replied with a gruff amusement. "Listen up, I'll tell you this one for free, got it? Once you hit level 2, you start getting Developmental Abilities. If you're a good hand at this forgin' business, you can choose Blacksmith."
Hefting the blade again, she tapped it twice on the hilt. "And once you got Blacksmith, you can start making stuff that no every-day backwoods smith can. Gobrist here was made with a Goblin Claw and a bit o' Adamantite."
"Woah!" Scrappy sounded suitably impressed. Adam merely raised his brow and waited for the fuckmeat to continue. After seeing his nonplussed reaction, she explained smugly. "Gobrist here will always do something to her victim, no matter how tough their armor. It might just be a nick or a scratch, but she'll always leave something."
Adam stared for a moment, before snorting. "My fists were better."
The smith glowered, clutching the sword against her chest. "You wanna test that, level 1? Ah ain't gonna hear no slander about my products, ya hear?"
Adam scoffed, letting a tiny, vicious grin come to his face. "Alright, you gotta target?"
Fuckmeat grinned back, challengingly. "Old Grunnar lost his anvil to me in a bet, we'll use that."
—
"So whatcha want to bet, huh?" Fuckmeat asked challengingly, moving gear and supplies out of the way of the relatively small looking anvil in the back of her store. There was a lot of crap Adam didn't really recognize or care about back here, including a second, much larger anvil. Scrappy was standing in the doorway, here as the arbitrator and bell-boy, watching the front door to tell fuckmeat if she got a customer in.
Adam raised a brow, staring at the small woman as she went about readying the area. "Your pride."
"Nah that's borin'!" She declared with a sharp look on her face. "You gotta bet something real!" Grinning and leaning forwards, hands on her hips, she declared. "How bout this, you lose and you gotta work in my shop for a week! I need someone to watch the front while I'm workin' up a sweat, and a pretty face would lure in more customers."
Adam stared, raising a brow and considering it for a moment.
"You sell bags here?" He asked. She blinked, furrowing her brows. "Bags?"
"Big leather bags." He clarified. She shook her head in a negative. Adam grumbled for a moment, before thinking again. What could he really use right now…?
"Gauntlets." He declared. "You make me a set that comes up to the elbows if you lose. Got it?"
"Heh! That ah can do!" Twisting in place briefly, she then added over her shoulder. "But I won't, because ah ain't losing you see?"
She swung the sword down with one hand, crashing against the anvil with a great ringing and sparks.
Pulling the sword back and leaning against it like a pole, she grinned down at the results. "Look at that, a beautiful lil' scratch ain't she?"
Adam moved forwards, standing over the fuckmeat and the anvil, squinting down with these shitty meat eyes to get a look at it.
It was indeed a scratch. In any of his real bodies, he could beat that easily. Issue was, he wasn't sure if he could do the same in this meatframe. He frowned at the anvil for a moment, flexing his hands briefly.
She bumped her hip against his leg. "Hey now, ain't no shaming in admitting defeat ya know?" She had a smug smile on her face, like she had already won.
Adam let his antipathic stare linger for a moment, before snorting. "Stand aside fuckmeat, I have a bet to win." She blinked, before huffing with laughter and moving over to the side.
Adam loosened up, stretching his frame and rolling his joints. Then, moving over to the anvil, he stood above it and measured his angle of attack.
Panzerfaust was a simple martial art at its core. The three components were rotation, vibration, and weight. Weight from size, from heavy limbs, from gravity. Anything to make the final strike hit slightly harder. This usually involved jumping, falling from heights and letting your own frame add to the damage.
He leaned up and back, as far away from the grounded target as he could.
Rotation was the next component, one he couldn't fully replicate for the evasive maneuvers in this meatframe. These joints didn't swivel all the way around after all. But he could replicate it for the offensive maneuvers, wide-sweeping rotations to build up and maintain more force than usual in each attack and subsequent attack, bouncing between targets like a furious whirlwind. Kagekaze always talked about 'the golden ratio' or something, but Adam never bothered to remember the philosophy behind it.
He twisted up and back away from the target, to maximize the rotational energy his blow would carry.
The last component, of course, was the vibrations. These were something that meatbags shouldn't be capable of replicating, but this sim was buggy, so he could do it in this meatframe anyways. The vibrations were perhaps the most important component, turning normal blows into vibro-weapons that mulched through flesh, bone, and steel alike.
His hand started shaking.
Panzerfaust was a simple art at its core. The simple mathematical equations in motion required to strike as hard as the humanoid frame could possibly allow. The engineer's approach to unarmed combat, designed for the full-conversion cyborgs and their fully-metal frames. The central premise was very easy to understand.
His hand came down, blurred with the shaking.
Just hit hard.
A boom rang out. The floor rumbled. A few racks of weapons clattered briefly. "Woah!" Scrappy called out in astonishment.
Adam grit his teeth, and pulled his hand back from the stubborn anvil surface. It was mangled by the force of the blow, skin on the hand torn and bleeding all over the floor. Bringing it up to his face to inspect it, he briefly sneered at the weakness of it. The fucking crybaby was screaming again, acting like any of this damage was more than superficial.
"Woah! Woah! Woah!" Fuckmeat bounced over to grab at his hand. He raised a brow and subtly readied his other hand to strike if she tried something. She looked at his hand with a worried expression, taking stock of the damages. "Ya didn't have to ravage yerself for a bet! Boy! Under tha counter I got a healing po-"
"No." Adam grunted, reaching into his own bag and pulling out one of his own. He wasn't about to rely on charity for just a little mangled hand. He only drank half of this flask earlier, not needing anything more to fix up bruises and cracks. Finishing the other half now, he briefly paused and said nothing as it went to work.
After a few moments of the meat screaming, his limbs were fixed up again, leaving only light discoloration and stains in the leather wraps. Glancing over at the anvil, he spoke again. "I win."
Fuckmeat glanced up from his hands. "Huh?"
Adam spoke again. "I win."
Her gaze turned over to the bloodstained anvil.
And the crack that ran through about a third of the metal block.
Fuckmeat stared at it for a moment.
"...Yeah… Ah suppose ya did." She replied after a moment.
"You need measurements." Adam stated idly.
"Yeah… ah can do that now, if you're free for a bit?" She asked. Adam raised a brow, recognizing the tone. Taking his bags off his shoulders, he walked over to hand them off to Scrappy, who took them with a raised brow.
"I'll be here for a bit, kid. Head on back. I'll be back once she's done sizing me up." Adam rumbled out.
Scrappy blinked curiously, before nodding and raising a hand. "Oh, alright. See you back at the house." Adam watched him go for a bit. Hands slide around his waist and up to his lower stomach. He grinned to himself.
"Cocky little level one, ain't ya?" Fuckmeat purred at him. "Lemme go lock the door."