Adam Smasher, Level 1 Adventurer, Hestia Familia
"Is… Is it a good idea to leave them alone?" Scrappy asked with a backwards glance at their home base. Shortstack had showed up to the church early that morning, a comically oversized bag on her back and ambitions in her eyes. She had been greeted by Tinytits, with a smoldering gaze and a red-hot fire poker still in hand.
"Eh." Adam responded noncommittally and disinterested. By the time he and Scrappy left the building, the two women were still locked in a silent staring contest. Clearly communicating something to one another that Scrappy couldn't translate and Adam didn't care about. "They'll work it out. We have a job to do."
"...Hmm." Scrappy hummed with a note of worry, before turning back and resuming his walk. "So down to the fourth level today? I don't think anything new shows up until at least level five."
Adam furrowed his brows. "How do you know that? We haven't been down that far yet."
Scrappy smiled brightly. "I listened to Eina-san's complete 'new adventurer basics' lecture. It took three hours and gave me a really bad headache, but I learned lots during it."
Adam frowned and turned his gaze back towards the road, wordlessly grunting in reply. Scrappy kept talking. "The guild-advisor program is really useful. I've only attended a single session so far, and the next one is scheduled at the end of the week, but I don't think I would've been able to handle the early monsters without it."
"...Kids and dogs?" Adam drawled out, skeptical that anyone could die to those.
"Well… Maybe not goblins and kobolds, no. But something else down there probably. That pass parade would've totally gotten me if you weren't there!"
"So the info didn't actually help, you would've been dead either way."
"Eh… I… I don't have much evidence I suppose. I still think it's helpful, but maybe not quite yet." Scrappy sheepishly admitted, still holding to his belief even without much to support it. Lucky for the kid, his instincts were good. More information on the enemy was always useful. He thought the Guild Advisor was going to be some sort of financial bullshit, which is why he refused it.
Knowing that they were actually info-brokers on the specifics of the monster-shaped mining operation going on changed the calculus of that decision. It wasn't needed for the… "You said new targets show up on floor five?" He asked to confirm.
"Yeah! Frog shooters, war shadows, and killer ants! The last two are known as 'newbie killers', being a step above goblins and kobolds." Scrappy helpfully informed
Right so the guild advisor wasn't needed for the first four floors, so his ignoring of the service proved to be the correct decision in the short term. He needed more funds immediately, and wasting a few hours listening to info that wouldn't be important for days wasn't worth it then. He only knew that in hindsight though, it's entirely possible the 'newbie killers' would have some bullshit he wouldn't be ready for, so he needed to get an info-broker before going deeper.
"Remind me to sign up before we go to floor five kid, that should be within a day or two." Adam commanded, which Scrappy nodded and saluted at.
"Can do! We're clearing floor four today?" Scrapy asked, excitement at the coming slaughter in his eyes.
"First we're going back to the Pharma. We're almost out of healing potions." Indeed, they had gone through many in the last two days. Only had seven left. Everytime one of them suffered an injury that might slow their pace of murder and money-making, down went a flask. The rapid pace at which they were consumed wasn't sustainable in the long term, not until they got deeper into the dungeon and had better profits, but he was spending a dead meatbags coins so the early gains were more than worth the price.
The price being free. You have to spend money to make money, and all it cost Adam to get that bag of coins was a fun little strangulation session. Less than a minute of his time doing something entertaining.
…Hmm, maybe he should go back and strangle more meatbags in alleyways…?
No, it took a week to get a good mark the first time, and he and Scrappy were already making two thirds of that with a daily haul from the Murderpit. He'd get vastly better returns doing what he currently was, even assuming their daily wages didn't get any better than they currently were.
Which, from what he could tell, was fairly unlikely.
They had reached their first destination. He pushed open the door and walked in, heralded by the little jingling bell and followed by Scrappy. Making his way for the counter, he saw someone else standing there to greet them.
A female, with brown hair and light-purple eyes, wearing blue and yellow. The most notable thing about her were the accessories, dog ears and tail gently waving back and forth behind her. All in all, fairly uninteresting.
"Welcome to the Blue Pharmac-"
"What time do you close?" Adam interrupted, not really caring to hear the same greeting he got from the other one.
She blinked, and the patented customer service smile gently came to rest upon her face. "Around six in the evening, sir. Is there something I can help you with?"
"Aren't we going to buy healing potions?" Scrappy asked him, confused.
"Wondering if we can swing by after our daily delves." Adam explained offhandedly, calculating times in his head. The sun rises at around six-thirty most places, they leave the church within thirty minutes, they spend twelve hours in the murderpit, therefore they get out at around…
"Seven." Adam grumbled. An hour too late. "We get out at around seven in the evening, no can do."
Now no longer caring, he moved onto the original goal. "Do you accept guild-backed promissory notes?" He had to make sure before they bought anything with it. They had a checking system, which Adam was familiar with but hadn't used in years, but he did remember that it was mostly useless.
"Only from registered familias." She replied with a polite smile.
"Good." Adam replied, pulling out the comparatively primitive checkbook that he had been given. He had asked for one the other day, when he started to notice the prices climbing above what could reasonably be carried on the smithing floors. "Brat, we go through an average of seven healing potions a day. That's forty-nine hundred valis if we buy off-stock again, and a bit more than half our current account. Sound good?"
"Sounds good to me!" Scrappy had really shit money-management skills, because Adam had to explain the difference between the familia and personal accounts the other day. As technically half of their decision making power, he had to make sure Scrappy was on board with any purchases made through the familia account. Not personal accounts though, that was all his to keep.
Not that he currently had money left in his personal account, he was spending it as it got it. Upgrades were not cheap and Adam had no intention on hoarding money when he could be getting better gear.
"Y-you want the off-stock?" Dogmeat asked with a slightly confused expression. "We normally have to throw it out, no one wants to drink it…"
"It works just as well and it's cheaper." Adam grunted, signing the promissory note for the calculated amount and handing it over. "What kind of dumbass wouldn't take it?"
Dogmeat took the note and looked at it, blinking once, before looking up and staring at his blank and slightly annoyed expression. She nodded slowly, putting the slip securely in a lockbox before moving to the back to retrieve his order. After a few moments, a distant sound of talking was heard from beyond the door, then footsteps and the door opening.
'Miach' stuck his head through the doorway, confirming their presence and walking over with a smile. "Well look at you two! It's only been a few days and you're already so equipped. Having success in the Dungeon?"
"You're a chatty one, huh?" Adam grumbled with a flat expression, looking at the familiar face. Potionmeat? Bluebag?
Prettyboy laughed at that, smiling as Scrappy gave an enthusiastic 'hello Miach-sama!'. "Just a bit, perhaps. But I'm serious, I see new boots, new armor, a new weapon, and now you're back for more potions? You two must be doing excellent!"
"You bet! We pulled in ten-thousand valis the other day!" Scrappy excitedly boasted.
"Ten-thousand? Already? Haven't you only been at this for a week now?" Blueboy gave an impressed hum at the figure.
"Four days." Adam corrected idly, leaning on the counter and letting the other two get into the swing of a conversation. "The pay is still garbage right now. We'll see if it improves on floor four."
Blueboy hummed again. "Four floors in four days… Mah, you two are something else entirely. Make sure you keep yourself safe down there, I'd advise running away if you meet something you can't handle, there's always next time after all."
"We haven't met something we couldn't handle yet! The armor has been a great help already, we didn't need to heal up as often." Scrappy rubbed the back of his neck again. A gesture he repeated constantly in conversations. It was almost bothersome enough to comment on.
"The armor is a goddamn scam, is what it is." Adam instead focused his ire on the pertinent subject. "One thousand for shit shirts that will only last a week down there. A fucking waste of money for the returns we get on it."
"You're a very practical mortal, Smasher-san." Blueboy smiled at him in a familiar 'we're good friends' sorta way. Adam merely frowned in return. "I suppose it might be cheaper if you had a contracted smith, but the guild-gear will do if you don't. Armor that lasts a week is cheaper than seven healing potions a day, after all."
Adam ran the figures in his head for a few moments, before grunting and conceding the point. That was factually true, from his quick and dirty estimates. It still deeply annoyed him that this armor wasn't built to last.
Armor wasn't consumable, damnit. It was armor. It's supposed to last a long time.
"If you're looking to save valis…" the door opened and the Dogmeat came through, seven vials of the offstock carried between her gloved and ungloved hand. What's with the asymmetry meatbag? You trying to make a fashion statement? "Why not form a contract with the Miach familia?"
Blueboy made an 'ah' expression, as if the thought hadn't occurred to him yet. Scrappy blinked, not following.
Adam wasn't following either, but his experiences around the word 'contract' told him to narrow his eyes and pay close attention. "Elaborate." He demanded. Dogmeat blinked at the sudden focus on her, but Blueboy was the first to speak up.
"Normally monster drops are sold by adventurers to the guild, and then crafting-focused familias buy those drops and make goods from them, which are then sold to adventurers. But if you cut out the middle-man of the guild…"
"The adventurer gets paid more or cheaper goods, and the makers get more overall profit." Adam finished, understanding the deal now. Before that though… "Potions are made from drops?"
"Hm? Oh yes. Most drops can be turned into a few things. I can name five from goblin claws alone." Blueboy explained with a casual shrug. "We use Blue Papilio wings… er, a type of blue butterfly that can heal other monsters, to make the healing potions. One wing is enough to make a whole cauldron worth of stock. If you were to bring some back, we could sell you those at a discount and still make a good profit."
Blueboy smiled and tilted his head, holding out a hand. Dogmeat stood slightly behind him, tail wagging and expression blank. "No need to make it a formal contract, but if you bring the ingredients back, I'll be happy to give a discount. What do you say?"
Adam exchanged a glance with Scrappy, nodded firmly, then reached forwards to take Blueboy's hand. "You have a catalogue for me to look through?"
Blueboy blinked. "Catalogue?'
Adam groaned, and went through the motions of explaining what convenient sales practice was.
-
The fourth floor, as it turned out, was exactly the same as the third, second, and first floors. Fairly wide and tall hallways, a blue tint to everything, mild temperatures, and populated entirely by kids, dogs, and lizards. Each general section of wall could spawn anywhere from one to six waves of the things before its color shifted, each monster was weak enough, slow enough, and stupid enough that they weren't a threat unless he somehow fell asleep on the job.
Monsters traveled in groups no smaller than three and no larger than seven, but sounds of fighting could lure more of the things from other sections of the floors. Each one approached to attack in direct and obvious manners, and each one died in one solid hit. The kids and dogs didn't sell for much, but the lizards definitely did, so those were collected as first priority.
As with the previous floors, he took to mapping and memorizing this one as well. By always taking the rightmost path, he would eventually travel down every section of the maze-like configuration barring some hidden door bullshit or a completely disconnected section. In this way, he could slowly assemble a mental tactical map of the region full of chokepoints and regions he could potentially take advantage of when required.
He made a note to start actually drawing these maps once he had some paper and something to write with, might be useful for the brat to study.
The meanest trick the murderpit had yet tried to pull was spawning simultaneous waves in front of and behind them as they dealt with a prior wave. He said meanest and not mean, because flanking was honestly amatuer hour and expected when invading a hostile fortress. He was frankly unimpressed with the level of fortifications. No ranged attackers, no access tunnels, no traps, no ambush sites, no environmental effects, no gas attacks, no false routes, no shifting walls…
The top four floors were a cakewalk, and he was hoping that would change as he got lower. As it currently stood, the 'Dungeon' was boring him.
It did, however, give him ample time to practice a technique he had thought up the other day. Only practicing on kids and dogs thus far, because the lizards were actually valuable enough to not risk this early on.
"GNNNAAA! The dog screamed, a distinctly un-doglike thing to do, as it leaped forwards at him.
He stomped, one leg forwards. His torso twisted. His shoulders traced the outline of a partial spiral. His hand was arranged in a claw-like fashion, fingers pressed firmly together, and arm shaking.
The claw tore through the flesh and blood like it wasn't there. Parting skin and muscle like particularly warm butter. He entered through the abdomen of the dog, right below the ribcage.
His fingers brushed something smooth as they moved deeper within. He splayed them slightly wider as they did.
Now was the hard part. His fingers came closed. His brow furrowed in concentration.
His hand twisted. The dog screamed in aggressive panic, short limbs clawing at his armored arms. It's reach was too shit to actually hurt him.
He twisted the other way, and in the same motion, ripped his arm out.
The dog turned to ash as he did so, which was expected. The trickier part was…
He stepped back and raised his fist, closed around what was a handful of gore, but now only held a single marble-sized core. He opened his hand, rolled the core to hold between his fingers, and raised it for inspection.
"...Did you get it this time?" Scrappy asked, ripping through one of the bodies to extract a core, sending a question and glance his way.
Adam took a long look at the core, inspecting it from every angle he could, searching for the tell-tale signs of damage.
After a moment, he grinned, and tossed it towards the kid. "Take a look for yourself." Said kid caught the core, smiling, and inspected it too.
He had started practicing the technique on corpses, trying to pull out cores quicker so he could get a move on. That took maybe a dozen attempts to get it right and prove that it could be done. After he managed that, Adam got an idea.
What if he turned the killing and butchering into one action?
So next he started practicing on live targets. It took him a dozen or so dogs and kids to figure out the angle and motions involved when the target was moving. The first few times he tried it, the core just broke as his fist went through. The next few times, the core broke as he pulled it out. Then it cracked a few times afterwards, leading to this final attempt.
Scrappy grinned at him, holding a completely undamaged core up. "I think you got it, Senpai! I don't see any cracks on this one! That's definitely going to speed up our progress!"
Adam rumbled in satisfaction. "Damn right it will. We're making at least five thousand today, got it kid?" He moved to the pile of corpses as he spoke, pulling one off the pile and setting it up for his newest trick.
"Can do!" Scrappy cheered, knife slicing open a diaphragm and sticking his fist inside. He wasn't doing it quite as fast as Adam was, but the same angle of approach was making it far faster than before.
Adam thrust his hand forwards.
His hand closed around a specific chunk of flesh.
His fingers closed, hand twisted back and forth, and he ripped his arm out.
The corpse turned to ash as the core was left completely unharmed in his hands.
Now all that was left was to practice it more, see if he can make the motion faster. It was still pretty slow at the moment. He'd also start practicing on lizards, to see if he could do the same for them.
Just, more carefully compared to the kids and dogs. The lizards were worth eight times as much and wasting that many valis wasn't his idea of a good time.