Adam Smasher, Level 1 Adventurer, Hestia Familia

Half a million in total income. One hundred and fifty-five thousand going to the SS, one hundred and twenty thousand going to the outsourced meat, and two hundred and forty thousand going to the corp. That two-hundred and forty thousand was then split three ways between himself, the kid, and the familia account.

"Hello!"

Leaving him with eighty-thousand and some change to spend. He was fairly confident that they could've gotten this much or more without the outsourced sword, but unfortunately he had already gave his word and going back on it would damage his rep as an employer. This was indeed more total income than what they managed alone, meaning that the outsword got to come back again next time.

"Welcome to the Hostess of Fertility, Nya~ Table for three?"
"Hehe~ Yes please! We made lots of valis today!"

Adam made sure to inform outsword that their cut of each run was going to be renegotiated should this become a long term contract, which unfortunately did little to discourage it. It looked like it was here to stay until it got itself killed doing something stupid, with any luck that would be sooner rather than later. In the meanwhile, Adam had eighty-thousand and change to reinvest back into his day job.

"Please have a seat, I'll be with you in just a moment, Nya~"
"Thank you!"

He had used two healing potions, Scrappy had used four, and Outsword had used four. The SS had brought enough of their own already. That's ten healing potions, they had eight left. They also each used two 'Antidotes' against poison moths that managed to throw their scales around at a most inconvenient time. He had bought some in preparation, but at five-hundred a pop he only had ten at the start of the day. Now he had four.

"She seems familiar with you, Bell."
"We've been here a few times! The food is great!"

He made a note to restock tomorrow, ten of each, with a discretionary budget of fifteen-thousand just in case they had to buy normal healing vials instead of offstock. That information went into a new notebook, written down with an 'adventurer grade' charcoal pencil. They didn't have graphite here, or proper pens. Restocking would cost him somewhere between four thousand six hundred and five thousand.

"I can tell, this is a fancy looking place. You sure you want to treat? I can pay."
"I suggested we go out, so it's only fair that I pay, you know?"

Paying for that would come from the Familia budget. More pressing was his personal restocking. Ants, moths, butterflies, rabbits. None of which were particularly difficult on their own, but coming in a swarm made them more interesting to smash. Ants moved in groups and tried to limit mobility, setting up targets for the charging rabbits. Said rabbits were trying to use bone horns against plate, so they usually just bounced right off him. If he was wearing less armor they'd be more of an issue.

"I guess that's fair, still I'm flush with valis now, with the way you two fight I wouldn't be surprised if you never have money issues."
"Heh! I was doing pretty poorly the first day, and I had to run away against some kobolds. Then Adam-san showed me the trick is to just attack them really fast!"

The real issue was the moths. The butterflies weren't any kind of problem, they couldn't heal corpses and leaving meat alive but injured was stupid anyway. The moths on the other hand used chemical warfare, something that couldn't be easily avoided or countered. They didn't have gas masks here, only antidotes. The safest strategy was to kill them immediately at range, but he only had so many bolts and his weapon only fired so fast.

"I think it's pretty common wisdom that the best defense is a good offense, it's part of why most go for light armor, to let you stay as mobile and attack as often as possible. Course, that's when you don't turn yourself into… What would you call a shield-wall but aggressive?"
"What's a shield wall?"

He needed a more reliable ranged option, better range and firing speed, damage on par or better, and then he needed to buy more bolts. Then he needed to buy something to carry the bolts in that was quick enough to access in the middle of a slaughter. Issue was the fancy 'bowgun' he was looking at a few days back cost a clean one-hundred and fifty thousand. He couldn't afford that without at least one more delve, and he would need a better ranged option before that.

"Nyahallo~ What will you be drinking today?"
"Wine for me, please."
"Oh, water for me, please! What about you Adam?"

The cheaper option was one of those 'repeating crossbows' they had available. It could only hold five bolts in each… magazine…? He needed to check the terminology. And you had to crank it back manually each time you wanted to fire, but it was slightly faster than a normal crossbow and much cheaper than a bowgun, only twelve-thousand last time he-

He grabbed a hand. Forced from his thoughts, he turned his attention to the offender and raised a brow. Scrappy was looking at him with furrowed brows, wrist currently clutched in his grip. "Adam? You want something to drink?"

He glanced around, taking stock of their current location. His own brow furrowed as he recognized the local. When the fuck did they arrive here? Eyes locked with slit pupils. His own face twisted into a disdainful glare.

The fucking cat was looking at him, waiting for an answer.

He let go of the kid's wrist and responded with a growl. "Beer. Tell Fuckhips I'm here for my burger." Leaning back into the booth and noticing that he was currently on the outside of the booth. He was already here though, so he was getting the test meal and fucking off afterwards. No sense in putting it off.

Catmeat attempted to sway her hips as she left, shit form, three out of ten.

"What were you thinking so hard about, Senpai?" Scrappy asked, blinking and leaning forwards on the table.

Adam rumbled. "The moths reminded me, chemical warfare exists. I need to prepare a more effective counter and see if Blueboy has any options to pull off the same tricks. We could've dealt with that pantry twice as fast if we had some grenades with us."

"Grenades?" Outsword asked, leaning back on the other side of the table.

"Fist sized objects that explode when thrown. Some use pure force, others light, others poison, others fire. I need to see about getting something like that."

Outsword got a curiously wary expression on his face at that. "Grenades… is that what they call Magic Swords where you're from?"

"What?" Adam glared at Outsword like he was stupid, because he was indeed stupid. "A sword is a sword, dumbass. A grenade doesn't look or act anything like a sword."

Outsword blinked, before tilting his head. "Wait then… so what is it like again?"

Adam rumbled, annoyed that he had to repeat himself. "Do you know what a gun is, meat? Or a cannon?"

"...Cannon yeah, gun no. Is that what you call handcannons? Things like arquebus or blunderbuss right? Long tube of metal with black powder-"

"Yes those." Adam waved off the rest of the explanation, and raised a hand for emphasis, pretending to hold a grenade-like object. "Now imagine you make a metal egg. Then imagine you fill the egg with black powder. Then imagine it goes off when you throw it."

Outsword's expression changed to one of realization, snapping his fingers, and he nodded. "You're talking about bombs." Adam's brow twitched and his hand clenched. "Bombs and handbombs I think. Although I think they normally use clay jars for it, not metal eggs. They also aren't too powerful if you just use black powder, not enough for later monsters."

Adam grunted, not really caring what Outsword's opinion was. He knew that grenades were a thing here, even if they were apparently primitive. He would make sure to check with Blueboy regardless tomorrow, these generic games usually had explosive potions too. Ideally he could get something like napalm or acid. Not airborne toxins until he had a way to make those not an issue for himself anymore.

"Drinks, Nya~" Catmeat came back over, tray in her hands and drinks balanced upon them, glasses were distributed, and once more he had a mug before him. "Mama knows you're here now, Nya~" She winked at him.

He glared and sipped the beer.

"Nyow, what would you two like to order?"

"Ah! I want to try the fish dinner this time, please!"
"Ah… do you serve roast poultry?"
"We do, Nya~"
"I'll have some of that then, please."
"Fish and Chicken dinners, coming up!"

Catmeat walked away, again swaying and again getting a three out of ten.

"...Still… it's probably best to not rely on them more than your other weapons. You can only carry so many, and then you're out." Outsword spoke again with a frown.

Adam furrowed his brows and gave the meat a baffled look. "Rely on more than other weapons? The fuck are you talking about, meat?"

Outsword raised his hands. "They're powerful, but they're designed to break after a single use. You rely on them too much and you'll be out when you need them most. It's best to rely on weapons that don't run out on you."

Adam gave a look that expressed the sum total of confusion and disdain. "You're talking like you only carry one type of weapon, meat."

Outsword blinked. "What?"

"What kind of absolute worthless dumbass meatbag only uses one weapon?" Adam rumbled out with a deep frown and glare on his face. "That's beyond stupid. That's bafflingly stupid. That's insultingly stupid."

"Hey." Outsword straightened up with a vaguely offended expression. Scrappy looked like he was about to interject with something. Adam cut them both off with a gesture and a growl.

"Carrying one weapon means you're useful for a single thing, meaning you're useless for everything else. You don't carry one type of weapon, meat. You carry all that you need. You carry a close ranged weapon, you carry a long ranged weapon, you carry an anti-armor weapon, you carry an anti-swarm weapon, you carry specialty weapons. You carry enough weapons to cover every situation, and use them in those situations."

"Relying on grenades? You use grenades when you need to, and you don't use them when you don't need to. How the fuck isn't this something you already know?"

"Sounds expensive as shit, I'd rather just stick to my girl Nagashima here!" A voice called out from the side, a meatbag with the scraggly beginnings of a beard at the bar, patting a sheathed sword at his waist. "She's handled everything so far, and spending all those valis on other weapons means I won't have any to come here after!"

Outsword's face fell into dimly-lit hatred when he saw the sword in question, an over stylized pile of shit. Probably offended his smithing pride or something like that.

"Then get better at murder, meatbag." Adam bluntly replied, disdain on his face.

"Hey now! That's no way to speak to a veteran, rookie!" You look like a racoon, dumbass. A short, fat racoon, how is anyone supposed to take you seriously?

Adam didn't bother responding, turning his attention back towards Outsword. "They have grenades here then?"

"Ah, probably somewhere? I wouldn't know who sells them though."

"Hey I wasn't done talking to you!"

Adam grunted. He'll see if guildmeat knows then, if not he'll put out feelers for it. All else fails he could probably make them himself.

His hand closed around a wrist and squeezed. Slowly his baleful eyes turned to the hand reaching for his shoulder, then further to the hairy arm it was attached to, then further to the fat racoon that had been reaching for him.

The hand tried to ignore his grip, pressing forwards as if it had been unhindered. It was definitely more powerful than the frame should allow, with all the fat content he could feel around the wrist. Maybe about half again as strong as it should be.

Unfortunately for the meat, he was Adam Smasher. He was stronger than this even as a teenage meatbag himself.

He slowly rose from his seat, pushing the fatmeat back and looming over it as he rose, clad in black plate.

"A-adam-san!" Scrappy protested, astonished. "What's going on?"
"Oh boy…" Outsword groaned quietly, ready to stand up just in case.

He kept his glare firmly on the meatbag's suddenly nervous eyes. This one didn't seem to have much of a spine, a shame. Adam always enjoyed a good facedown, and it wasn't looking like he was getting one here.

"W-woah now. I was just trying to get your attention, see? No harm meant!"

Nice lie meatbag, four out of ten, try harder next time. Adam tilted his head and cracked his neck with an audible and harsh pop, then turned it the other way and cracked it again.

"No fighting inside, lest I beat both of your asses!" A voice called out from the side. Adam didn't need to glance over to recognize it as Fuckhips calling from the kitchen doorway with a glare in her voice. "Take it outside!"

"There ain't going to be a fight." Adam calmly drawled out in the way he remembered doing much more often in his youth. His hand was bruising from the force needed to keep it still. The fatmeat kept trying to jerk the hand out of his grasp, and Adam made sure to keep his grip absolutely still. "We're just having a little heart to heart here, see? I'm a bit jittery from a full day of painting walls red, so I'm stopping him before he makes me jump and do something he'll regret."

"I'm about to put you over my fucking knee and beat your ass red, blondie. Outside or drop him, now."

Adam did as requested, letting go of the wrist and letting the fatmeat fall backwards on his ass, scurrying backwards briefly and staring at him with a forced grin.

The fatmeat stood up quickly, brushing himself off and quickly throwing a bill on the countertop. "I should probably be getting back to homebase now, didn't mean to cause a ruckus and scare ya, sorry about that. I'll be heading out, Darling Mia!"

Adam tilted his head, waiting till he was almost out the door before calling out. "Oi Fuckhips, my burger done yet?"

Fatmeat stumbled out the door, tripping over himself as Fuckhips responded with a "Almost! Sit down and let Anya bat her lashes at you some more, brat!"

Adam grunted, moving back and sitting down on the table. Ignoring the looks and questions of Scrappy and Outsword, he began to unstrap and remove the gauntlet on his hand, forcing the fingers to uncurl as he did so.

The meat was yelling at him as he did so.

Eventually getting the gauntlet and glove off, he took stock of the damage.

"What th-"
"Senpai, your hand!"

Deep bruising on fingers and palm, occasional involuntary twitches, probably strained muscles and tendons. Adam grunted while looking at it. "Hand me a healing potion kid. I need to fix this to eat."

After a moment of no response, he glanced upwards to see Scrappy pouting at him. He raised a brow.

"You wouldn't need a potion if you didn't pick a fight!" Scrappy tried to growl at him, it was mostly ineffectual.

"He didn't pick a fight." Outsword shook his head, huffing out and leaning back. Adam stayed quiet to let him attempt to explain the situation to the kid. "That guy interjected into our conversation, attempting to bring attention to himself. It was a power play to assert higher status. Adam firmly rejected and ignored him. His power play didn't work, so that guy tries another one."

Outsword gestured and tapped the shoulder. "He was reaching over and down, he was going to try and press down to keep Adam in his seat, forcing himself above. A physical power play backed by his strength that disregards height. Adam intercepts, grabs the hand, and then stands up and over him. The power play has been reversed, and now the guy doesn't have anything he can do except try to save face."

"Then he tries flirting with me to attach himself to my authority, and blondie one-ups him by calling me fuckhips as he leaves. More casual implies closer relations." Fuckhips growled as she walked over, glancing briefly at his still-damaged hand, and setting a metal tray down in front of him. Catmeat and a gray-haired maid followed behind her, sliding plates of food over to Scrappy and Outsword.

"You might've just cost me a long-term customer there, brat." Fuckhips growled, leaning forwards. "Man's going to be too scared to come back for awhile, if ever."

"And that's his own damn fault, ain't it?" Adam growled, gesturing again for Scrappy to hand him a vial, which he did so with a complicated expression on his face. Adam downed it, well prepared for the pain, and watched the once-rapidly forming injuries on his hand reverse their process and instead fade away.

"...You got scammed." Fuckhips tersely spoke. "Only offstock heals in that sorta spotty way. Inconsistent effect makes it hurt more than-"

"I asked for it." He replied, cutting her off.

She blinked, then narrowed her eyes at him. Catmeat's tail flickered. "What?"

"It's two-hundred valis cheaper per bottle and heals the same." He growled back in response, taking up the burger in both hands and briefly inspecting it. Slightly fresher lettuce, a purple tomato, a thick patty smelling of garlic, a topping of melted cheese mustard and another type of sauce, and three pickles.

He took a bite, and began to chew. Slightly crunchier this time, toasted buns?

"...Yer kinda an idiot, aren't you?"

He growled through a mouthful of burger and glared at fuckhips. She continued undaunted. "Or a masochist. What's the use in putting yourself in pain when you don't need to be? There's being strong willed and there's being a dumbass."

He swallowed and waved the burger at her. "It's just pain, don't act like it matters."

"It's pain, it's how you know you're injured, idiot. Torturing yourself is useless."

Adam didn't bother responding, taking another bite of the burger and chewing blankly. She stared at him a few moments more, before snorting. "Anya, word of advice? I know his type, best way to get him is to pin and ride."

"M-mama!" Catmeat yowled. "D-don't say things like that, nya!" Beside her, the gray-haired waitress flushed pink and a look of consideration came across her features.

He growled and swallowed.

"Pin him and ride until his hips break." She continued, ignoring the reddening face of the catmeat and his snarling face. "Then make him breakfast in bed. That should do it."

"Your burger is mediocre, you put some weirdass fishy sauce in it this time."

"The toasted buns make it any better?"

He considered that for a moment.

"Slightly."