Adam Smasher, Level 1 Adventurer, Hestia Familia

"What can you make with these?" Adam asked, pouring out their bag of drop items onto the counter at the Blue Pharmacy, having already restocked on requisite potions and asked if the catalogue was ready yet. It was not, as it turned out, to his utter lack of surprise. Scrappy was next to him, bouncing on his heels in residual excitement from his purchases earlier that morning.

They had already shown off their plundered bits to Shortstack, and most of what she could do with them was not particularly useful to them. Butterfly bits could apparently be used to make a blanket that sped natural recovery for those who slept with it, as in, from months to weeks to heal a broken arm. Moth bits could be used to make weapons that secrete a mild poison, about as effective as the poison moths poison itself, which wasn't very. Ants could be used to make armor that shattered after one good hit, but made ants less aggressive towards you. Things of that nature.

He ended up commissioning a moth dagger for fifteen thousand. Every advantage, just if he came across something big. The kid also ended up commissioning something, two things in fact. A new dagger with rabbit horn, and a good luck charm of rabbit feet. Supposedly rabbit feet increased item drop rates, but Shortstack made sure to explain that was only rumor and had never been verified to her knowledge. Scrappy insisted that it worked, citing his grandfather again as a source for that information.

The rest of their fifteen or so bits of monster-stuff went back into the bag, and was now poured out across the countertop in front of Blueboy. Blueboy hummed in appreciation, picking up bits on the counter and automatically arranging them in the most space-efficient pattern possible. Like that old corporate training game for storage optimization, what was its name again?

Blueboy was about to start talking, before Adam raised a hand and cut him off again.

"What can you make with these that is actually useful or practical to make?" Adam rumbled out, correcting himself and preemptively cutting off whatever long winded ramble that Blueboy was about to go on.

Blueboy, to his credit, chuckled sheepishly, then began an explanation. Grabbing a section of warty skin and holding it up. "Frog skin is normally used to hold poisonous substances in, most of what you can make with it probably don't interest adventurers. Frog teeth can make a potion that lets you subsist off eating insects easier. If you had an eye I could make a batch of sight-bolstering brews but my old familia wasn't interested in much else from them."

Adam nodded, he'd check again when they got the catalogue done, just in case Blueboy was an airhead. Scrappy had a vaguely ill look on his face. "Eating bugs?"

"Aha." Blueboy rubbed the back of his neck, easy smile on his face and brows furrowed slightly. "Apparently it's a delicacy in some parts of the world, but I'm not sure If I have the stomach for it."

"Common back home. Never tried it myself." Adam commenced idly. Man was meant to eat meat and junkfood, not bugs. "Next?" He tapped the table once.

Blueboy nodded, reaching for the shadebits, and spoke again. "Shadow's don't have many drops, just their claws, masks, bones, and their tarflesh if you have a bottle ready to collect it. The claws could be used to make a potion that sharpens your fingernails for a few minutes, or an oil that you can rub on a blade to resharpen it without needing a whetstone. The bone here could be used to make a skeletal-reinforcer, mostly useful for healing broken bones quicker."

Blueboy nodded his head back and forth. "Not much else that you'd be interested in, I think." Setting the shadebits down again, he moved on to the next section of now-carefully organized chunks of monster with a smile. "The ant-shell could be used to make a skin-hardening cream that lasts most of the day. It's one of our best sellers among adventurers."

Adam made a note to get as much of that as he could. It wasn't as useful for those wearing proper armor, but every layer of protection counted.

"The mandibles can be turned into a jaw-bolstering potion, increasing the strength of your bites."

"What kinda person bites monsters to death?" Scrappy asked with an incredulous expression.

"There's always some meatbag doing stupid shit, kid." Adam explained. Blueboy nodded.

"There was this adventurer some years ago… Oh, what was his name… Zaid I think? He had a habit of eating monsters as he was fighting them. He had a skill that made him more powerful if he did that. He used to come by and buy out my whole stock of frog teeth and ant mandible brews when starting out." Blueboy chuckled. "Of course, most of the time we sell it to older customers, they need help chewing."

Adam waved a hand, gesturing for him to continue. Blueboy set the shadebits down and moved on. "Moth wings can be used to make antidotes and Papilo wings can be used to make healing potions, so I'll be happy to buy those off you if you don't want them."

"What about gas bombs." Adam asked, poking at the wing.

"Bombs…?" Blueboy trailed off, returning his gaze to the moth wing carried in gloved hands and furrowing his brows. "Like those powder bombs, right? The clay jars that burst when thrown?"

"Yes. Can you make something that turns into a poison cloud when I throw it? Same question for acid, and some kind of flammable oil or grease."

"Hmm…" Blueboy considered for another few moments. "My specialty is in medicine, so I'm not certain if I can, I don't think I've ever tried something like that before."

"If you can, I'll buy each for one-thousand." Adam bargained.

"Hey now!" Dogmeat called out, emerging from the back again quickly, stumbling once in her rush to emerge before gently pushing her employer aside and planting both hands on the countertop. His attention lasered in on the right hand, which made a very distinct sound. "This is entirely new territory, and a custom product to boot. The potential sales that could be lost from experimentation could cost us a lot you know? Three-thousand per clay-pot poison bomb, if we can manage it."

"Naaza-chan, one-thousand seeme-"

She cut off Blueboy by firmly planting a finger on his lips, eyes staring firmly into his own.

Bargaining huh? "No guarantee what you make is up to my standards. You could make something technically effective but practically worthless. One-thousand is being generous." He growled out, raising a finger of his own and waving it once, one hand resting in the crook of his arm.

"Adding in the costs of the pots, the straps to hold them, the product wasted in the experimentation phase? It could potentially be months before we start seeing returns on a custom product for a single customer. Twenty-five hundred."

"If you make something worth a damn you have a new unique product to advertise, something that other groups don't, and therefore you can list at a massive upcharge and still sell out. One-thousand two-hundred and fifty."

"Adding in the costs of effectively advertising a new and unique product, especially an untested one, in Orario of all places. We'd go broke trying to tap into an uncertain market at such a low initial price. Two-thousand."

Adam crossed his arms fully, staring at the dogmeat for a moment longer, then nodded. "I'll give fifty-thousand to cover research costs, then buy all future poison bombs at one-thousand." Scrappy made an astonished noise, Blueboy's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.

She paused, working out the numbers in her head and chewing on her inner cheek.

He had already won the moment she hesitated to consider it. A one-time payment of fifty thousand was a significant amount if he had the prices right. However, their little band was pulling in several hundred thousand per day. A one-time purchase was something he could easily afford with his daily intake and would be significantly cheaper in the long run.

Eventually, she gave in and reached a hand out. He nodded in turn, grabbing her hand and shaking firmly. Keeping his eyes locked on her as their deal was struck.

He was right.

This hand was a prosthetic.

"I'll give the butterfly wing for free if you let me get a look at that arm." He added, withdrawing his hand and pulling out his checkbook. He ignored the immediate reactions and wrote out the required details on the guild promissory note for payment. "I've been looking to get rid of all this meat, I need to see what the local metal looks like first though."

"W-what? H-how did you…?" Dogmeat asked, he glanced up in a slightly annoyed fashion and tapped his shoulders.

"This meat annoys me with all its screaming. Back home the solution was common sense, just replace it with metal. I need to see how good the local stuff is, and how much it costs. Show me your arm and tell me how much you bought it for, and I'll toss in the butterfly wings for free."

"Y-you want to… remove your limbs and replace them with prosthetics?" Blueboy asked with a baffled tone. Adam turned a baleful eyes towards him.

"I just said that, meatbag. Pay attention."

"I-... You know that it doesn't improve with you, right? Eventually you'll be stronger than the prosth-" Blueboy attempted to warn.

"Then I'll commission a better prosthetic, dumbass." He glowered, stating the obvious. They had magic here, little reason why a limb can't be magicked up.

"Here." Dogmeat spoke softly, removing the glove on her hand with a neutral expression, and rolling up her sleeve. He turned his attention back towards her, and inspected the arm as it was thrust out.

"Naaza-chan…"

"A free wing for a look at my arm? That's cheap." Dogmeat growled softly, brows furrowed. She then yelped as he grabbed her arm and started evaluating it more closely, turning it about and judging it.

The limb was simultaneously more primitive and more advanced than he had been expecting. The outer shell was an overly elaborate and fancy thing, with fine engravings in silver showing off a bearded man bestowing an arm to two bowing people, then a bunch of nonsensical leafy patterns and swirls with writing in a language he didn't speak covering every inch. The more important features were the joints and the frame underneath.

They didn't use myomer here, the entire frame was a somewhat solid metal affair with ball joints that didn't seem to have any actuating elements. The ranges of motion were limited by the metal shell that covered most of the frame, purposely so from what he could tell, restricting the limit to normal human ranges of motion.

It also didn't seem to have anything in the way of additional features. Just to make sure though… "Any hidden weapons?"

"What?" She growled in confusion.

"Back home it was common to put a weapon or two into your limbs. Retractable blades, pop-up cannons, punching-rams, things like that. You don't have anything like that?"

"No." Dogmeat replied flatly. Adam rumbled in mild annoyance.

"How's it's performance?"

"It's heavy, cold, and the joints ache whenever it storms."

He waved that off. "Strength, flexibility, speed, durability."

"The maker said it was about on par with the average level four adventurer." Blueboy commented softly, watching the exchange with a worried-looking frown.

That didn't tell him jackshit. They apparently didn't practice using numbers here. He withdrew his hands, took off a gauntlet, and raised his palm. "Flick me, hard as you can."

Dogmeat stared at him for a moment, still glaring, before huffing once. Blueboy attempted to raise a hand to interrupt. "I'm not sure if that's a goo-"

Reaching her hand out, she flicked.

His hand screamed at him as red painted his face. His palm caving inwards and back of his hand exploding outwards. He had to close his eyes as his blood splattered against his face.

"Adam!" Scrappy yelled in panic.
"Oh fuck!" Blueboy uncharacteristically cursed, immediately rushing off towards the back.
Dogmeat immediately lurched back, grabbing her arm like it was a serpent and forcing it to her chest, eyes wide.

He grunted, keeping his hand still for a moment as he took in the sensation and promptly ignored it. Then he brought his hand down to inspect the damages. Dripping quite a bit, currently yelling at him, but the damage…

…About on par with getting shot with a handgun, from a flick. Palm now with a collapsed middle section and almost a hole going straight through out the back, brushing against now-wailing tendons that controlled his middle two fingers. Fairly impressive damage, most borgs would have trouble replicating that.

He hummed in satisfaction. Good strength for a prosthetic, the lack of auxiliary features was disappointing, but this power was more than enough to make up for it.

"How much did you pay for it?" He asked his last question, turning his gaze from the injury and towards Dogmeat. She stared for a moment, blinking once and shaking off some sort of stupor.

"W-what?"

Adam huffed out in annoyance. "The arm, dogmeat. How much did you pay for it?"

"I'll tell you if you use this right now." Blueboy spoke quite seriously, returning from the back and holding a potion up in front of him. "Pour this on your hand, on the wound, and I'll tell you."

"M-miach-sama!" Dogmeat almost protested, being cut off by Blueboy turning a sharp and serious look at her once, then back to him.

Adam grunted. "What is it?" He wasn't about to pour jackshit on himself without knowing what it was.

"Healing potion." Eh, good enough for him then.

Adam grunted, taking it and pulling the cork out with his teeth, slowly pouring it over the hand with a hole in it. The wound started itching quite badly, but he made sure to observe the entire process. The magic liquid reached the wound, trailed down into the deeper sections, and started from there. The tendons seemed to gleam for a moment, then scant flesh on the hand pulled itself back over the wound, then skin came to cover it with a fresh pinkish layer.

He only used half the bottle, so he handed it back.

Blueboy took it after a moment, before letting out a self-calming sigh. "That one wouldn't have worked, Bell-kun."

Adam turned an eye towards Scrappy, awkwardly holding up a health potion from the bag but having been ignored up until now. Scrappy coughed once, then awkwardly put the potion back into the side-pocket on Adam's dufflebag. "Why not?" He asked.

Blueboy briefly shook his head, re-capping the potion with a spare cork and explained. "Lesser healing potions can handle most injuries, restoring skin and muscle, but once the injury reaches proper tendon and bone you need a higher grade potion to restore the damage."

Useful information. He took note of it. "The cost?"

Dogmeat silently stared at the floor. Blueboy nodded once, with a grim expression.

"Ninety nine million."

Scrappy let out a noise that might have been a wheeze, might have been a yelp, might have been a cough. Adam hummed and ran the numbers in his head.

Ninety nine million in the monopoly money they use here would be something like… three million three hundred thousand eddies? Back home he'd pay something like one million two hundred thousand per milspec frame ordered from in-house manufacturers. Three times that price for maybe one sixth of a proper frame meant…

He snorted. "Eighteen times upcharge."

"What?" Blueboy blinked at him.

"You paid around eighteen times more than you should've, an arm with that level of power? No more than…" He ran the numbers in his head again. "Maybe about five million five hundred thousand valis. That's how much it would cost back home." Definitely not fucking worth it, not until he had a bunch of extra cash laying around doing nothing at least.

"I see…" Blueboy commented noncommittally, hair slightly in his eyes.

Anyways, that dealt with… "Drops are yours. You have any ant-cream?"

"Hmm?"

"The skin-hardening cream made from ant bits. You have any in stock?" He growled out. He needed to get out of here before they tried to charge him for bleeding on their floors.

"Ah, we actually do, do you want me to ring you up?" Blueboy smiled at him, Adam waved him off and tapped the stock of assorted bits carefully organized on the countertop.

"Just give me all that these drops are worth." Better than keeping an assorted bag of loot under the beds. At least the cream was useful and consumable, the best of both worlds when it came to not being robbed. "If you don't have enough, then discount the next potions we come to buy to cover the rest, got it?"

"Can do! Let me go get those jars for you! Naaza-chan, can you count up the drops for me?"

"A-ah… yes! I'll get right on that!" Dogmeat snapped out of her daze, before hurriedly getting to work muttering numbers and removing drops from on top of the table. Eventually she gathered them all up and practically ran to the back, out of sight.

…Tetris! That's what it was called!

"...Did you have to get her to flick you?" Scrappy asked, rubbing at his face. "I think I got splashed with some of your blood."

Adam rumbled in amusement, putting his gauntlet back on. "Needed to test the product."

"You said it was overpriced."

"I didn't know that at the time."

"I think Hestia-sama will be upset with you if you chop off your arms, senpai."

Adam rolled his eyes. "I already called them overpriced, didn't I? I got better and cheaper things to buy first."

"I…" Scrappy furrowed his brows while staring at him. "I wasn't talking about that part."

Adam raised a brow, waiting for an explanation from the kid. Said explanation never came, as Blueboy came back out with several jars of skin cream.