Adam Smasher, Level 1 Adventurer, Hestia Familia

"You going down again tomorrow? If so, what time do you want us here?" Halflead asked on behalf of the SS, bags of loot already safely handed over to the guildmeat and their bank-accounts swelling appropriately in accordance to the pre-established shares of the final total.

The supporters streamlined the process of murder plus harvest to sublime levels. Now instead of having to waste time pulling cores and drops out of each beastie they slaughtered, the corpses were instead left on the ground for the supporters to handle while he and Scrappy could focus on killing more. More attention on the fighting instead of the harvesting meant less injuries, less downtime, and more killing.

When combined with the increased value of the shades and the frogs compared to the kids, dogs, and lizards?

A bit over two-hundred thousand valis today. Twelve hours of pure murder with nothing but his body and the spawn rates slowing him down. He was practically smiling as they returned from the murderpit today.

Thirty percent went to the SS, as promised. The rest was divided three ways between his account, Scrappy's account, and the Familia account. That still meant that Adam was walking away with fifty-thousand valis today, more than enough to start buying some proper fucking upgrades. The SS didn't have any interest in the drops, so Scrappy now had a small bag of monster bits on hand.

Those monster bits might be useful, maybe not. They had earned enough today that holding onto them for Shortstack or Blueboy might be worth doing, depending on what their catalogues looked like.

But first… "Kid, you said something about having a meeting scheduled tomorrow?" Adam questioned, looking up from his bank statement to glance over at Scrappy.

"Oh! Yeah, tomorrow is Solis, I promised Eina-san that I'd attend another advisory meeting then." Scrappy answered, rubbing the back of his head slightly sheepishly. "Those take a few hours, so I'll be busy for most of the midday."

Adam nodded with a frown, it was annoying to delay their progress for a day, but they had made significant strides today and the kid needed a general education on murder. Getting him caught up and outsourcing the lessons was probably a smart idea. More importantly though…

"The fuck did you call it?" Adam asked with a confused glare. "Solis?"

"I… Solis?" Scrappy asked, baffled. "The seventh day of the week… or the first in some places, I think?"

Adam tilted his head back, raising a brow. "...You mean Sunday?"

Scrappy blinked at him back, dropping his hand and tilting his head. "Did they call the days different things in Abandon?"

He still didn't know where or what that was, so instead he responded. "Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday. Seven days of the week."

Scrappy, Guildmeat, and the SS all looked at him like he had grown a second head. He rumbled a warning and most glanced away. Guildmeat responded with eyes looking off to the side.

"Solis, Lunae, Martis, Mercurii, Jovis, Veneris, Saturni. That's the most widely used names for the days of the week in Orario."

"Sounds stupid." Adam grunted in reply, no longer caring. "Right, so the kid's busy Sunday. We'll do another delve on Monday. Be ready then. Same contract conditions so long as there's only three of you, if there's more than three we'll need to renegotiate, got it?"

"Can do, Mister Smasher." Halflead replied with a smile and a nod, nods echoed by the other two halfmeats by his side. "We'll get three professionals back here again on Lunae. If that'll be all, we'll be on our way out?"

Adam nodded, dismissing and promptly ignoring the halfmeats thereafter. Their footsteps let him track them as they left, but barely. The halfmeats were fucking quiet when they moved.

"Glad to see you aren't getting in the way of Bell-kun's education." Guildmeat said, relieved and with a small smile on her face.

"Information is Ammunition." Adam growled out with a pointed look. "If you're going to give the kid free tactical information, I'm not going to stop you. You had to pay for that shit back home."

"You had to pay for advice back home?" Scrappy asked, astonished.

"Yes." Adam replied, then turned the topic to more important matters. "Guildmeat, take me to the armors, I need an update in gear."

Guildmeat blinked, and got a complicated look on her face. "Y-you want to buy armor after saying it was a scam?"

"Are you stupid or deaf?" Adam growled out in reply. "I said your cheap shit was a scam. These cloth coats are already falling apart and we've had them all of two days. A thousand valis for something that lasts a week isn't a product, it's a tax." He leaned in to hiss out the next words. "A scam."

Leaning back, he raised one hand and rested the other in the crook of his arm, a lecturing pose. "If you're going to buy armor, it better be some proper fucking armor, the kind you only need to replace if your fighting something worth a damn, not shit like kids and dogs. That shit is unacceptable."

"I… I had thought you were the type to see armor as a whole as pointless… That was wrong of me." Guildmeat apologized, bowing her head briefly. "I was worried that you were going to be a bad influence on Bell-kun, but you're surprisingly sensible, aren-"

"Skip the fucking touchy-feely shit and take me to the armor already woman. Save the heartfelt garbage for when you and Scrappy finally fuck." Adam interrupted with a roll of his eyes and a glower. Waving one hand in a sweeping motion to indicate that she should get a fucking move on.

Unfortunately, both Scrappy and Guildmeat wasted more time sputtering out denials with red faces.

"T-that's not what's happening here!"
"Adam-san! I'm not- We're not- Eina-san isn't like that!"

After the standard amount of time waiting for the two of them to get their bearings together, he was finally led back to where they had bought their armor last time, a guild storehouse filled with mass-produced equipment that was near but not quite within the tower itself.

The endless capacity for meatbags to get hung up over something as basic as sex never failed to annoy him.

"While the Guild does provide standard equipment of various kinds at set prices, you might get better value from the bargain sales provided by the Hephaestus familia." Guildmeat advised as he was measured by another guildmeat for armor size. It wasn't going to be a perfect form-fitting affair, but they had various sets of what they called 'munition plate' ready in a fairly wide range of sizes, each of which was slightly adjustable to ensure a decent fit.

The munition plate didn't have full coverage on the lower legs and hands specifically, relying on thick leather in those sections, but it did provide a solid shell of metal everywhere else, which is all he really needed. For accurate measuring, he was currently bereft of his shirt. He had caught the second guildmeat, a woman with curled horns and fluffy hair, staring a few times.

"Bargain bin shit is usually bargain bin for a reason. You don't skimp out on armor, guildmeat." He glowered in reply.

"Ah, while it's mostly apprentice-level work, there's also the work of talented smiths who just don't have much recognition yet. It's entirely possible to get high quality gear from, and I'd recommend at least checking it over from time to time." Guildmeat stayed steadfast in her reasoning, which sounded about right.

Women fucking loved thrift shopping, he had no idea why, but it was universal. Personally, he didn't have time for that shit.

"Oh really?" Scrappy asked, perking up. "If there's a chance I can get something really good, then it's worth at least checking out before getting standard stuff right?"

"Exactly!" Guildmeat nodded excitedly.

Adam rumbled in annoyance, but didn't bother advising otherwise. They weren't going down tomorrow anyways. "If you want to look for copper among piles of shit, feel free. I'm going to save myself the effort and buy steel."

"Ah, are you sure Adam-san? There's no harm in looking, is there?"

Adam let his deeply unimpressed and unenthusiastic stare express the sum total of his interest in doing that activity. The kind of look a man gives his girlfriend after she suggests a threesome involving another man, or a corporate executive gives his employee when they ask for a raise.

Scrappy got the hint, and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck with a chuckle.

Then, point made, he spoke actual directions. "If you're going window-shopping, leave the bag of drops here. I'll take it back to homebase after I'm done here."

"Can do!" Scrappy said, walking over and dropping the aforementioned bag off next to his feet. "I'll go ahead and check out the bargain stuff now, if that's alright?"

"Yeah, have Guildmeat show you where those are." Adam commanded, waving off the two of them dismissively. Farewells made, Scrappy and Guildmeat departed from the fitting room.

Adam let a smirk cover his face, then turned his gaze over to the guildmeat currently measuring one of his biceps. She caught his gaze and eyes widened. He moved to loom over her, measuring tape dropping from her hands as looked up.

"Caught you staring." He growled out with intent.

"I-I'm sorry…" She whispered out, eyes flitting off to one side and body fidgeting.

He reached down and grabbed her chin with one hand, forcing her to meet his gaze. "How 'bout you make it up to me?"

Her breathing hitched and came out unsteady. Her eyes flickered around, anywhere except at him. "W-what did you… have in mind…?"

Adam grinned, and leaned in close. "I think you know."

"...T-there's an alcove… T-that we can go to…"

—

An hour or so later, Adam marched out of the Guild storehouse with great satisfaction and a brand new set of armor. Finally, his footsteps were reasonably heavy again, body weighed down by a good fifty or so pounds of new munition plate. Adjusted for his size and painted black to protect from monster blood.

Apparently, the gore was mildly acidic. This would explain the constant itch in his skin when fighting long enough, but it wasn't a problem so far thanks to his consistent use of healing potions. It did, however, mean that buying cheap shit was even more of a rip off than he was thinking, reinforcing his negative opinion on such.

The old adage held true. You have to have money to save money.

Hefting his bags and glancing at the sky, he paused in the street to stare at the distance.

There in the sky, circling around the city like some enormous manta-ray, was a colossal structure. A thin bone-like wheel with one long spike extending to its front, seven discs at regular intervals on its underside glowing with prismatic blue light, and seven long fin-like structures trailing behind it like it was some immense fish.

Judging from the look of the tower-tips that he could see from this angle, the entire structure was the size of a neighborhood and probably carried about as much on its top.

It was flanked by many smaller ray-like structures, moving to and from the main structure and bodies burdened with what looked like primitive shipping containers.

They had airships here too apparently. He wasn't sure why he was surprised. The technology was all kinds of random already, so magical flying ships were about par for the course.

Grunting, he turned his gaze from the flying city district, idly wondering why he hadn't seen it before already, and moved along. It wasn't worth getting all starry-eyed over, they had airships back home too.

More importantly, he needed to see what they could use these drops for. He still had thirty-thousand in his personal account and a good bit of gear would be more than worth all of it. You had to spend money to make money, after all.

He still hasn't come across anything that needed more than his fists yet, so maybe a shield? Or maybe some more potions…

Antidotes. He needed to buy antidotes and restock on bolts and healing potions before their next trip down. The moths were coming up, and those were bound to be a pain in his ass to deal with if he didn't have enough bolts for them. Then maybe some daggers just in case? He could throw those, Kagekaze taught him how a while back.

He did have enough for a proper crossbow, but nothing so far needed more than one or two shots from the arm-mounted one he already had, so no need for stronger quite yet.

"How was the meal, nya!?" A voice called out, causing his train of thought to derail and his face to twist into a deep frown. Focusing on the road once more, he saw the cat in the middle of the road.

"Fuck off, catmeat!" He called back with a deep frown. Her burger had been mid, too crispy and a lot more like a standard sandwich than a proper burger, but he's eaten worse in the past. Of course, he wasn't about to tell her that. "I dumped your shitty food and used the bag for cores."

"He's Lying~!" The gray-haired waitress called out, both hands flanking her mouth for the effect and a wide smile on her face. She had absolutely no way of confirming that, so it really didn't matter what she said.

"You're standing in my way, catmeat. Run off before I smash your ass against the pavement." Adam snarled, glare focused on the target of his antipathy.

"Yes please, nya~" She muttered under her breath, causing a rumble of fury to grow in his chest, before speaking louder. "Was it too crispy? Too soggy? Not enough meat or veggies?"

"You used radish slices, dumbass. Who the fuck would eat a burger with fucking radish on it?!" He gestured with both hands to demonstrate his outrage. Then, tired of the charade, he started stomping forwards, shoulders swinging with his heavy steps. "Scram, cat. I got places to be."

"What about the sauce, was it-" Catmeat cut herself off with a sniff. Her nose twitched as he approached, and she sniffed again. Her ears went flat and her tail went bushy. A glare grew on her face, sniffing again as he approached.

"...A rival, nya…" Catmeat hissed out, circling around him as he approached and then following behind, sniffing all the while.

Don't make him laugh, cat, you ain't even in the running. Get the fuck away from him before he backhands you.

—

He finally arrived back at homebase, the cat being smart enough to not get within arm's reach of him and thus beyond the reach of a potential retaliation for approaching. Shame too, he wanted to leave a real nasty bruise on that stupid fucking face. She followed him for a couple blocks sniffing his wake and occasionally hissing out vulgarities, before finally leaving him the fuck alone.

The rest of his trip was in relative silence, before finally he opened the door to the church and stepped through.

"Welcome back!" His employer called out happily, poking at the fireplace. They were running low on firewood, the broken furniture piles were getting rather small. Good thing they had just brought in a half-decent profit for the first time. "I see you're in some fancy new armor, it looks really good on you!"

"Hmm." Adam rumbled in reply, glancing around and noticing an absence. "Kid not back yet?"

"Not yet, no. You know where he is?"

"Guildmeat recommended he check the bargain bin before buying proper armor, so he's probably still doing that."

Tinytits let out an offended gasp. "He's thrift-shopping without me?!"

His theory that all women liked thrift shopping for some reason continued to hold true, it seemed. She even called it out by name. He dropped his bag off by the side and began the relatively long process of removing his comforting armor. "The kid has a lecture scheduled with guildmeat, so no delve tomorrow. I'll be looking at catalogues, probably."

"Hmm…" His employer hummed, staring at him. "Your clothes are getting pretty worn out, but I don't think we have the money to get you more…"

Adam pointed over at his bag. "Guild bank statement for the familia account inside. Left-middle pocket."

His employer walked over with a curious hum, unbuckling the bag and pulling out the slip of paper inside. It took her about half a moment to glance at it before she froze. Adam continued to divest himself of his armor.

"F-fifty thousand…?"

"We hired some supporters, they were worth everything we paid them." Adam explained, shucking his breastplate off and setting it aside.

She continued to stare at the paper for a few moments, before her head mechanically trailed up to lock eyes with him. In those eyes blazed a fearsome determination.

"We are going shopping tomorrow." Her voice left no room for refusal. An iron queen that demanded absolute obedience to her commandments.

Adam snorted dismissively. "That was already the plan." He needed to see what these drops were good for, after all.

"We are going shopping for clothes and furniture." She elaborated.

"With the holes in the wall? The bugs will get to anything made of cloth." That's how bugs worked right? The synth-cloth was always ratty in the hab-blocks he cleared out in the past.

"We are going shopping for clothes and getting an estimate for housing repairs." She corrected herself.

"We're low on firewood." He pointed out.

His employer grunted once, glancing over at the fireplace briefly, before nodding. "I need to write all this down, before I forget." She mused, moving over to get out the parchment and quill again.