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Path to Prosperity - B2 Chapter 31
🕑 Added 2024-09-01 10:00:07 +0000 UTCApparently, there was a lot to wish for.
Percy didn’t own any furniture other than the one found downstairs. The shelves on the first floor were intact, and the shop was ready to be opened at any time, given he’d procure enough goods to upgrade and sell. However, that shouldn’t be an issue.
Still, before doing anything else, Percy went to a nearby housing shop where he could purchase furniture like wardrobes, beds, and the like. He spent two silver coins for his purchases in the housing shop, returned to the building he’d leased, and placed everything neatly. There was no need to decorate the living space on the second floor. Percy had been in the wilderness for the last few months. Having a bed was already much better than anything he’d owned.
He glanced at the bed – it was a simple bed for one person – and considered collapsing on it for the sake of it, but the day was not yet over. Percy left the shop to look for a shop to create a sign for his shop. That wasn’t difficult either. The street his shop was in could be considered an inferior version of the capital’s shopping alley, meaning he could find almost everything he needed.
A dark wood plank, some paint, a brush, and the tools to attach the sign at his shop.
Although Percy wasn’t the best at typography, he considered the task done—fairly well executed as well—when he finished the last brush stroke.
Is that name a little bit over the top, or will it be okay to choose this name? Miss Calaer didn’t reject the name when I put it down, but it’s not like she would have said anything, even if I wrote ‘Dragon Poop’ as my business name.
He shrugged, his eyes glued to the shop sign.
[Dragon Lair]
Dragons are known for hoarding gold and everything of value. That being said, Michael’s powers were also closely tied to valuables. The shop was supposed to be his dragon lair, amassing a fortune for him to use. That was how he chose the name, even if it sounded a little bit over the top.
He shrugged his doubts off, replaced the broken shop sign with the new one, and returned to two interesting places he’d found on his strolls through the capital.
The first location was near the outskirts of the capital. Percy had been roaming around, trying to understand how it had been possible to plan and build such a humongous city, when he arrived near a half-broken smithy where a hulking giant – reminding him of Dave the Silver rank Adventurer from Raewood – hammered on a piece of iron.
The hulking giant wasn’t old. He didn’t look in his 30s yet, but his work wasn’t too bad. He mainly used iron to forge almost everything. Percy ignored the biting heat as he entered the building, where countless products were displayed. The variety was enormous, but they all had one thing in common. They were all made of either iron or Teranit – a mortal grade material.
But the choice of material did not interest Percy at first. He was more interested in the shocking amount of detail with which the hulking giant worked. He was covered in muscles from head to toe but could distribute the amount of force applied to his forging hammer perfectly. That was how he created weapons, utensils, and similar objects, including the average rings and accessories of the highest quality using iron.
Percy was certain that the worst products in the shop were of Excellent Quality, while the rest were either Marvelous or Perfect. That was exactly what Percy had been looking for.
“Is there a problem, mate?” The clinking of metal had died down when the blacksmith noticed Percy. He turned to him and frowned deeply after he studied him from head to toe, “If you’re another one of these idiots, you better leave. I will pay the interest in two days. I’m just finishing the last pieces for the deal.”
Percy tilted his head briefly but quickly realized what was happening.
He thinks I’m his creditor. Is that it?
His lips were already parted to respond and clear the misunderstanding when a group of thugs – that was the best description Percy offered, given their appearance and presence – entered the half-broken smithy.
“Bert, it’s payment time! Our boss wants his money back. Every. Single. Coin!” One of the thugs bellowed, unsheathing a small dagger from his waist.
The hulking giant, Bert, glanced at Percy in confusion, trying to understand what was happening, but turned to the dagger-wielding man.
“The contract says I have two more years to repay the money. Don’t you and your boss want the interest?” Bert tried to reason, but the thug wasn’t having it.
“Either you give us the money back now, or we’ll take everything and return for the remaining money in a week!”
Bert gasped and grasped his forging hammer even tighter, “You can’t do that!”
“Why not? Everything in here, even this disgusting little smithy, has been paid for by our boss. It doesn’t belong to you either way. Not until you’ve paid your debt, at least.”
Percy’s eyes drifted left and right as he analyzed the situation, and he nodded slowly, sensing an opportunity unfolding before him.
Is mother fortune finally on my side? That’s perfect!
Bert was tense enough to ignore his sore muscles from working long hours, the numerical disadvantage, and Percy. The thugs had noticed him, but they paid more heed to Bert, realizing the blacksmith was about to do something.
“How much do you owe them?” Percy asked Bert into the tension. The blacksmith didn’t hear him at first, but he turned to him when a tiny flash whisked past his head, where it exploded, transforming into a small cloud of snow and ice.
The thugs turned to Percy, their eyes widened in surprise, and so did Bert.
“How much do you owe them?” Percy repeated the question.
Bert’s lips parted, but no word came out. He was too surprised about what had just happened.
“He owes the boss two gold coins. If you include the interest, it is two gold coins and 32 silver!” The thug announced.
Percy turned to the thug, “Do you have the contract and a seal to complete the transaction, or did you come here unprepared, ready to throw a fit at someone who is trying his hardest to make a living in the capital?”
The dagger-wielding thug didn’t say anything, but the others took a step forward, their heads red like fresh tomatoes.
“We can go to the Merchant Office as well,” Percy shrugged, retrieving a small pouch filled with gold, “I will pay the money he owes your boss.”
“Huh?” Bert and the thugs echoed simultaneously.
“Why would you do that?” Bert asked, to which Percy responded with a bright smile.
“I like your work. How about you work for me? Of course, selling your products to me would be fine, too, but I would much rather hire you directly. I will pay you well and treat you better than those idiots,” Percy pointed at the huffing and puffing thugs.
“I don’t know you. I have never seen you before. Why would I work for you? No, this is far more important. Why would you pay so much money for me?”
Percy chuckled, “I think you’re worth it. Your work is excellent, and as you should know, a blacksmith’s passion for his work shows much more about his personality than the ordinary can tell. I can tell you’re a good guy doing everything he can to make it big. Unfortunately, you met the wrong guys.”
Again, he pointed at the thugs.
Percy looked at them again.
“Either way, do you have a seal, or are we going to the Merchant Office?”
***
“I…don’t know what to say. You actually paid off my loan. We don’t know each other, but you’re paying this much to help me out. Why? Do you want to push me to sign another loan with an even worse interest rate? I don’t think that’s possible. Their interest was already one of the worst,” Bert kicked the ground as they left the Merchant Office.
At the end of the day, Percy paid for Bert’s debt without buying anything…yet.
“I told you why I did it earlier, and I can tell you again. Though I doubt that’s needed. I want to hire you, and I’d much rather have a diligent blacksmith without debts working for me–... That was your only debt, right?” Percy asked, expecting the worst, but Bert just nodded.
“I needed money to rent a smithy to start working with. That worked fine at first, but things went downhill quickly. Not many non-Gifted are willing to purchase armaments from my shop, and the gifted in the capital are usually either rich enough to purchase a proper Artifact or look for weapons of better quality.”
Percy interrupted Bert, “You mean material.”
“What?” Bert tilted his head.
“You mean. Customers buy weapons made of better material. I doubt anyone in the city can create as many forged products from iron at such a high quality as I’ve seen in your shop.”
Bert was at a loss of words. In his hometown, the townspeople praised him a lot for his blacksmithing skills. However, since he arrived at the capital, only a handful of people looked at his goods. Of course, the location of his smithy wasn’t great. It wasn’t even close to the artisan’s grounds, but still. More than enough people bustled through the streets of his smithy, but almost no one cared enough to enter. And those who checked his stuff usually left in dissatisfaction.
“What do you think?” Percy asked ambitiously, “Do you want to work for me? I’ll treat you nicely!”
