Meikyuu Toshi no Antique Shop

I'm supposed to serve meals to unexpected guests.

"Mmm."

The "Footsteps of Death" lady screams happily as she lines up the backyard sofa to cling to her cheeks one biscuit after another served on a plate.

Some of the reason the biscuits would be delicious, but I guess I was hungrier than that. I continue to eat all the shards on my mouth, my hair that has been steamed with my helmet, and my eyeless outfit that I wear only because I am taking off my whole body armor.

"Uh, would you like to replace me?

Soon the teacup placed in front of her was empty, so I speak.

"Mmm."

"I'm in awe"

When Fujiwara receives the cup offered and pours the coffee from the magic bottle, she adds what she was buying for the Guest.

It is the milk of a goat. Although the original solution is hard to drink as it is because of its strong smell, it is suitable for café au lait because it has a rich butter flavour when mixed with coffee.

From Fujiwara's point of view, mixing things up with the coffee at the 'Land Dragon Looking Up at the Sun' pavilion has to be stopped in itself, beyond the fact that it was a blasphemous act but too bitter to drink.

"Go ahead. It's still a little hot, so be careful."

"Mmm."

The "Footsteps of Death" lady puts a rough mouth on the teacup she receives as she chews. Then I opened my eyes slightly and then stirred them up for a long time. Then I took a breath of "... ugh," so I thought you were satisfied, but I start cheeking up more biscuits. Apparently not enough yet.

I would have gotten it full of paper bags, but at this rate, I was going to run out of bottoms. Well, I've been buying a lot of other ingredients, so should I make a simple dish? We had bacon and eggs, so we should cook them appropriately.

"... by the way, is that injury really okay?

"Hmm? Mogugugu... thank you... oh this is it"

I shifted my eyes to my left arm, which I let sloppy as to say that she had forgotten.

My forearm is swollen and discoloured to red purple. Only there is a different condition because it has thin arms as white as ceramic, and it is painful to watch. I wouldn't even show the bareback I cared about, no matter how many times I pointed it out, as I'm sure it's fractured first.

"Mogugu... this was bitten by a man-eating tiger (Glol Tiger)... Mogu... in exchange for his life... he's an idiot..."

"I think you should make allowance at the infirmary right away."

"Momogu... say no..."

……

Fujiwara sighs small.

The reason for this was speculative.

She hides her origins. If you go to the infirmary, you will remove the body armor that you are wearing and receive treatment. If Footsteps of Death, originally a featured stock as an explorer, exposes its beautiful face, it is imperative that rumors soon spread and identity exploration be explored.

"Mogu... we need to go to it... Mogu... no..."

"What do you mean?

"Momogu... you have nothing more to fear from me than being hungry."

The 'Footsteps of Death' lady laughs invincibly with her biscuit shards on her mouth, explaining her unsure.

And Fujiwara notices something.

Although it is a very whispering amount that you wouldn't notice if you didn't visualize the magic and observe it carefully, there is an unusual amount of magic overflowing from her body for humans. That is clearly a phenomenon associated with the powerful exercise of witchcraft. On the way to blood magic being consumed and converted into magic, the excess was overflowing (overflow).

But she was just eating, and she didn't show any bareback like exercising witchcraft or activating a grant tool.

"... Could you possibly have 'shelter'?

"That's what I'm talking about"

Holding "shelter" is the name of those who are born with a magic circuit in one part of their body, although rarely. They can treat certain magic as if they were breathing. Of course, it consumes its own blood magic, but instead of using any spell chanting, seal deeds, gestures, or mediation to exercise magic, it doesn't have to move a finger.

It was only now that peace ceased to attract much attention, but in the late "Age of the Good Old Mages" to the "Dark Ages," some gave the effect of repainting history on battlefields everywhere because of their incredible abilities.

Sometimes, in the temple of the Great Old Age, we have made it the object of worship as a 'god of the present', from which the name of the 'protectorate' comes.

"Look, you're right... na"

The 'Footsteps of Death' lady offers her left arm.

The injury heals with horrible momentum. The swelling has been removed at a visible rate, and the red-purple discoloration has diminished, returning to almost the original skin condition. And a few minutes later, he had his bones twisted and his fingers gripped and opened.

It is also resilient enough to be equivalent to the prayer performed by the temple priests.

……

Fujiwara finally felt like she could swallow.

It was a mystery why she had such monstrous muscles and strength, and the resilience she now saw. Her body is engraved with a flesh-enhanced system, which is also a fairly powerful magic circuit.

I just have to suppress (save) if I'm hungry I won't be able to exercise my magic more than the driving force is blood magic. I guess that's why her condition until earlier was so weakened that she couldn't move due to the weight of her whole body armor.

"But can I tell you something that important?

Few hide that they have 'protection'. It is true that some Explorer Guilds will welcome you with favourable treatment, and there are many benefits to be gained from being known, such as the fact that no introducers will be given immediate priesthood positions in temples.

But there are never too many disadvantages to be borne by others knowing that they have 'protection'. Those who rub off trying to use it will never stop showing traces, and if they know their abilities, it will be the same thing that they hold a fatal weakness.

"You were seen. It would be pointless to hide anything more."

"But"

"Either way, you said you wouldn't talk to anyone else. Isn't that enough?"

"Okay."

I'm not going to divulge her identity to anyone, even as Fujiwara.

There is no harm in not making it as easy as it is to do so, and above all, it is natural to protect the privacy of the customer.

There's no way you can make more money without gaining credit than by doing business with customers.

"... by the way, how is your stomach?

"Yeah. I'm full"

"Are you satisfied? If it still seems empty, I'll make something, though?

"No, I've had enough. It's all because of you."

"That's all you need to know."

That's what Fujiwara said, putting an accounting slip on the table with very natural behavior.

"... yeah?

The 'Footsteps of Death' lady gazes at what has been offered in front of her.

"So here's what I think I was letting you transfer to this accounting guy. Fifty biscuits, and it will be a thousand Guerns at the end."

That's why Fujiwara responds with a smile.

Of course, credit isn't the only thing that matters in doing business. It can be said that the service is also an essential element in order for the customer to make a pleasant payment.

That's why Fujiwara was patient and thorough with her hunger, and that's why she didn't include details about the three cups of cafe ole she replaced.

"Yeah?"

The 'Footsteps of Death' lady tilted her neck again, turning her face towards this one such as she was not sure.

◆

This is by no means an unfair claim.

Biscuits are a clean commodity in this store, and it is only natural to charge more than to offer them. If you borrow the cliché of a master who hates what only others can get from you because you are oblivious to the gold account, it is' We are not charitable '.

Additionally, it has nothing to do with Fujiwara being threatened with a letter she left behind after she tried to kill her hand and poison her. It's not such a trivial thing in the first place to have such a mean personality in your roots. So this is not revenge or anything.

That's why it was Fujiwara's turn from here.

The 'Footsteps of Death' lady, who had been stiff as a stone statue for a while, finally opened her mouth.

"Ya... this biscuit is more than a store for sure and I ate it. Admittedly, there was a charge."

"Thank you."

All right. I got a quick pledge.

"But isn't twenty Guerns per biscuit too rampant?

"What do you say? The customer was dying earlier. Probably would have starved to death if it hadn't been discovered like that. And this biscuit connected the lives of our customers. I think it would be cheap to get 20 Guerns a piece."

"But"

"Okay, let's call the gendarmerie."

"Are you gonna threaten me?"

"It's more than you can pay. It's an escape."

Fujiwara goes through the backyard and tries to get to the entrance and exit of the store when she bows deeply against the 'Footsteps of Death' lady. Of course, it's an act.

"Ha... you didn't say you wouldn't pay. I'm telling you, the amount of twenty Guerns a piece is too high."

The 'Footsteps of Death' lady loses her tranquillity and raises her voice.

What she says is the most extreme.

The price of the biscuits purchased at the "Soil Dragon Looking Up at the Sun" pavilion is one Guerne for five sheets. Probably to that extent, even those lined up in other bakery specialties and bakeries. The unit price, for example, is a hundred times higher.

Speaking of Thousand Guerns, by the way, it was the forehead when I drank and ate quite a bit of it at the high restaurant there.

Fujiwara stops, holds the mountain of glasses with her index finger, and gestures to think about it for a while before suggesting this.

"As far as it goes. Then let's beat one Guerne for all fifty."

"Wet. Why do you suddenly lower the value for free?

Fujiwara smiles and smiles when she pulls out a dusty sales smile that she never puts out once a year.

"Don't you see?

I don't know what that means.

"Which means your life isn't worth picking up, even if it's on the side of the road."

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuu...! Fine. I'll pay you! You can pay for it! Even a thousand Guerns is cheap! These insidious glasses!

It's about her with a lot of pride, so I thought she'd come on board if I put it this way, but she reacted more than I expected.

Buying and selling words led to the establishment of a trade in bogus biscuits.

"Thank you every time."

Fujiwara lowered her head deeply as she shrugged her glasses.

I recall having been told before by my master, "You are obsessed with resentful spirits (Reis), so you earnestly pull them off." That is, of course, an unfounded argument.