THE VIRGIN MERCHANT: Buying Modern Warfare In Another World

Chapter 8

Waking up from my second faint of the day felt like rebooting a computer that had been kicked down a flight of stairs. My head was ringing with the scent of Mistress Helga’s aggressive perfume, and my chest felt tight, probably from the trauma of being crushed against the yellow silk of her "merchant’s pride."

But when I opened my eyes, I wasn't in the hay-filled closet. I was on a bed. A real, actual bed with a mattress that didn't poke back. I was in the upstairs apartment. It was close to dust. The two moons were obscured by clouds, leaving the room in a heavy, velvet shadow. I sat up, clutching my head. My stomach was actually full for once, but my mind was screaming. Barnaby’s words from earlier were looping in my ears: "Don't think you're safe just because you've got a roof, Skinny Boy. Men have been gutted for a silver spoon in this district. You’ve got a 'Divine Relic' in your pocket. You're not a clerk anymore; you're a walking target."

He was right. I’m a twenty-year-old twig with the constitution of a Victorian child and a phobia that makes half the population a walking heart attack for me. I don't have mana. I don't have a sword. I don't even have a decent pair of running shoes.

I pulled the Celestial Interface from under my pillow. The blue light of the screen washed over my face, illuminating my smirk. "Alright, Venus. Let’s see what 21st-century violence looks like in a world of fireballs and broadswords."

I tapped the [Technology & Security] tab. I spent three hours scrolling. I looked at a Glock 17, but it was 5,000 VP.

Even a basic pepper spray was 150 VP, and knowing my luck, the wind would blow it back into my own face. I needed something clean. Something silent. Something that screamed "Magic" to the locals but "Made in China" to me.

Then, I saw it.

[Item: Viper-X High-Voltage Stun Gun / Taser]

Description: 50,000 volt discharge. Built-in LED flashlight. Rechargeable (Infinite solar-sync enabled).

Earth Price: $26.00

Venus Price: 200 VP

"Two hundred points," I whispered, my thumb trembling over the screen. "That’s more than half my bank account."

I looked at my balance: 350 VP. (Gods, I hate that I had to be smothered by Helga to get that bonus, but at least her lungs funded my defense budget.)

But because I have no choice and I can't be a chooser.

Click.

[Purchase Confirmed. 200 VP Deducted.]

[Current Balance: 150 VP]

The blue particles swirled in the air above my bed, knitting together like digital stardust. A sleek, matte-black device dropped onto the blanket. It looked like a chunky flashlight, but the two silver prongs at the end promised a very different kind of enlightenment.

I picked it up. It felt solid. Professional. I slid the safety switch up and pressed the trigger for a micro-second.

CRACK-ZAP! A jagged arc of blue electricity danced between the prongs with a sound like a whip cracking. The air instantly smelled of ozone. My heart jumped. In a world where mages had to chant and wave staves to make lightning, I was holding a pocket-sized storm that didn't require a single drop of mana.

"Divine Relic, huh?" I muttered, a dark, sassy grin spreading across my face. "Let’s see an adventurer try to 'steal' this. I’ll turn their mana-circuits into toasted marshmallows."

I felt a sudden surge of confidence, the kind of confidence only a man with a concealed weapon and a full stomach can have. I stood up and walked to the window, looking out over the dark rooftops of the Merchant District. Somewhere out there, people were probably planning how to rob the "Skinny Boy."

"Come and get it, boys," I whispered to the night. "I've got fifty million volts of 'personal space' waiting for you."

I tucked the taser into my waistband next to the pliers. I still looked like a pathetic, acne-scarred beggar, but I was now the most "electrifying" man in Athens.

*****

I woke up not to the smell of horse manure, but to the faint scent of cedarwood and the soft light of a city that didn't hate me, at least, not yet. The knock on the door was polite, almost hesitant. "Arthur? Breakfast is on the table. Mistress Helga’s assistant is waiting," Roland called out. He was a mountain of a man who looked like he’d spent his life breaking skulls, but he spoke to me now with a weirdly respectful tone.

I stood over the ceramic basin, cupping the water in my hands and splashing it over my face. In the village, "washing up" usually meant negotiating with a bucket of gray slush that had a layer of mosquito larvae and a distinct bouquet of pond scum. Here? The water was clear, cool, and actually smelled like nothing, which is the most expensive smell a poor man can encounter.

I looked at myself in the mirror. The acne was still a persistent map of my teenage trauma, and my collarbones looked like they were trying to poke through my skin, but the defeated, "please-don't-hit-me" look in my eyes had been replaced by a sharp, predatory glint. I wasn't just a victim anymore; I was a tech-support specialist in a world that hadn't invented the screwdriver yet.

I reached for my tools. I shoved the "Divine Needle" pliers into my right pocket and the Viper-X Taser into my left.

"Ow," I muttered, wincing as the bulky Taser dug into my hip.

It was a disaster. My tunic was bulging in all the wrong places. I looked like I was trying to smuggle a couple of bricks through customs. In this world, a bulge in your pocket didn't just look weird; it looked like an invitation for a thief to see what kind of "Relic" you were hiding.

I pulled out the phone, the screen’s blue light casting a ghostly glow on the bathroom walls. I navigated to the [Survival & Gear] section of the A****n app.

"Come on, Venus... give me something cheap," I whispered. I scrolled past the tactical leather belts (500 VP) and the enchanted silk sashes (800 VP). Then, I found it. A basic, black nylon utility belt with three reinforced pouches and a quick-release buckle. On Earth, it was a $7.99 'Made in China' special from a discount bin. Here?

[Item: Tactical Utility Belt - Standard Nylon]

[Price: 50 VP]

"Fifty points for a piece of plastic and nylon? You’re a thief, Venus. A literal divine kleptomaniac," I hissed, but I tapped [BUY] anyway.

[Current Balance: 100 VP]

A soft pop echoed in the small washroom, and the belt materialized on the edge of the basin. I strapped it around my waist, tightening it over my thin hips. I slid the pliers into the small sheath, the Taser into the larger pouch, and tucked the phone into the hidden middle compartment. I pulled my ragged tunic down over the whole setup.

The fabric draped perfectly. To anyone else, I just looked like a skinny kid with a slightly thick waistline. But to me? I felt like Batman if he had been born into a medieval nightmare with a chronic fear of girls.

I took one last look at the mirror. Everything from my world, every piece of plastic, every screw, every circuit—was a "High-Grade Relic" here. I was walking around with a King's ransom strapped to my gut. If word got out that I could summon these things, the Queen wouldn't just want my tools; she’d want the "Relic-Maker" himself in a gilded cage.

"Careful, Arthur," I told my reflection. "Keep the sass high, the taser charged, and the secret buried."