Jace undid the locks from the window, closing the hatch, and repeated for the other side. He also tidied the new traded items and organized the wooden shelves as Mister Finch pulled a table beside them.
The old man must have noticed the young boy avoiding their break when the shop became enclosed. He was kind enough to prepare two sets of meals.
Jace tossed his apron at the counter and sat across from Mister Finch. The length of the table was an arm's length but it proved useful enough. He unwrapped the sandwich and ate greedily, scarfing down the food like it was his last meal.
The old man unwrapped his sandwich neatly, careful of the falling crumbs by the bread and was unaware of the monster wolfing the food next to him.
Jace was almost halfway done before he realized his portion of the sandwich was larger than the old man's.
'Did he do that on purpose?'
Jace asked him:
"Why do you help me?"
The old man continued unwrapping the sandwich, creasing the paper along his fingers in a delicate manner. Until, finally, he reached his eyes to the auburn boy across.
"You are asking why I help you?"
Jace nodded, then generously chomped another mouthful of bread and meat.
Mister Finch pondered for a bit, holding the fresh sandwich in his hands before he answered back:
"You came to me looking for work. I needed workers. Why not?"
"This is the third time you've let me back. Aren't you annoyed with me?"
The old man shook his head, sinking his perfectly intact teeth into his portion of the sandwich.
Jace had forgotten the Soul had repaired anything damaged of the human body, including illness and imperfections. But they were still human. The passage of time still affected their health. That was something the Soul could not mend.
The Soul never granted the Climber immortality. That was why the Generations had existed, tasked to conquer their share of thirty Floors as their predecessors.
Jace asked again with a personal question out of the blue:
"What Level are you, old man? Were you also a Climber, is that why you took pity on me?"
Mister Finch chewed slowly on his sandwich, tapping his fingers on the bread in rhythm. He answered:
"You are asking of my Soul?"
"Do you also happen to have hearing problems? Wasn't the Soul supposed to fix that for you?"
Mister Finch let out a laugh after he swallowed. He said back:
"My Level in the tower means nothing to me, or anyone here on this Floor."
"So you chose a life of haggling other Climbers for their scraps?"
"Could I say the same for you?"
"I'm one day less from killing one."
Mister Finch slowly nodded, then took another bite of the sandwich.
Jace finished his share, crumbling the wrapping and dusted his hands. He rested his knuckles on his knees, looking over at the mellow lighting of the fire lamps above their heads.
There was faint chatter through the closed windows, creating a soft atmosphere in the shop between the two Generation of Climbers. Even in this enclosed space, it sort of seemed like another world.
Jace turned his head and said to the old man with a rebellious tone, like any other ambitious teenager.
"I don't plan to stay here forever, or in the next week. I want to ascend the Tower, strengthen my Soul, and reach heights that humans could only hope to achieve."
Mister Finch nodded again.
"You said the same thing as last time."
"I know. But, I want you to help me."
"Are you threatening me?"
"No, I'm asking you, old man, I can't get out of this Floor alone."
Mister Finch laughed with his whole body and said back:
"You must think I'm made out of money."
Jace smacked his lips.
"You're the owner of one of the most convenient appraisal shops in the Port Town, I know you have money to give me."
"Jacey-boy, you have barely worked for me, and each of those times you deserted your work to climb the Tower. What tells me that you won't do it again?"
"Because I want to be alone. I don't want to be with anyone else on an expedition."
"And why is that?"
Jace's voice drifted off.
"I'm…just tired of it."
If Jace went on an expedition alone, then the distribution of experience from slaying a monster would only be reserved to him. He would gain more for his Soul compared to fighting with a squad of Climbers.
But if he truly went alone, then he could rely on nobody to help him. Waves of terrible and unholy monsters could charge at him, a single human with only the mercy of his Tower, there wouldn't be any helping hands to drag him out of the Void.
He was setting himself and his Soul up for failure
'Not like that's anything new to me.'
Mister Finch finished his meal as Jace snapped out of his thoughts.
"I can supply you with enough provisions for a few expeditions, but nothing more, do you understand, Jacey-boy?"
Jace raised an eyebrow.
"Seriously?"
"Under one condition."
Jace groaned to himself.
"There it is."
If something truly came that easy, it always followed with a cost.
Mister Finch stood from his wobbling chair, walking to one of the wooden shelves, and propped a stool under his feet as sorted through the cluttered items. He remarked about how Jace's style of filtering had complicated the mess further but continued the conversation.
"I know you must have your conflicts with other Climbers. You do not get along with them, yes, but why do you persist on the Tower? Have you ever considered a life among humans?"
Jace watched the old man.
"You mean…with the people here?"
Mister Finch nodded.
Jace turned away his glance from the closed windows.
"I don't want to be human. I said I wanted to be a Climber."
"And take the risks of such?"
Then Jace asked out of the blue again.
"How old are you, old man?"
Mister Finch answered truthfully:
"Fifty-two."
"You're the Second Generation of Climbers."
Mister Finch dusted his hands, dropping back on his heels.
"Not quite. I was born during the Second Generation, yes, but that does not make me a part of their efforts."
"Because you quit."
Mister Finch nodded with a plain expression.
"Yes."
Jace stood from his chair, facing the old man.
"Well, I'm not quitting mine. If you can, then I'm glad to take whatever expenses you're willing to give me. I'll be out of here right now and you can never see my face again."
Mister Finch steadily walked back to their small table and sat down back on his wobbling chair, gesturing to the auburn boy to do the same.
Jace sat back down, unsure if he had struck a nerve in the old man's heart. The worst thing he could have done was to give the person with his only chance out of Pensula cardiac problems.
Then Mister Finch opened his hand on the small table, dropping a shard of crystalized glass and a piece tattered paper with runic symbols.
Jace lifted his eyes, studying the old man as if he had his own affliction of craziness.
"I don't think becoming a criminal can solidify my safety through the Tower. I need authority through the Ports so I can ascend."
Mister Finch pointed to the crystal.
"There is a woman here, in the Safeworld of Sun Valley, she will craft you a license for entry through the Climber's Ports."
"And you're giving me a Bypass—for what? Aren't these things illegal? Shouldn't you know that, old man? Don't tell me you deal with criminals on your time away from this shop."
Mister Finch wanted to slap the young auburn boy but with his short height, it was impossible. But he continued:
"You give the Bypass to her and she will help you. She will not work for free."
"Is she also a criminal—"
"Jacey-boy, I agree to help you but if you refuse to listen to me then perhaps I will consider otherwise."
Jace stared at the Bypass for a few seconds, studying the faint glowing runic symbols, and nodded apologetically.
Mister Finch pushed the Port Crystal and Bypass to his side of the table, and said:
"You will get your money tomorrow."
Jace nodded again, silently stuffing the contents into his pockets.
But Mister Finch decided to open his mouth.
"And under one condition…"
Jace cursed under his breath.
'Maybe the Soul should've left memory loss to some of the elderly, especially with this old man.'
Mister Finch raised a finger and spoke to the insolent auburn boy.
"Complete your shift today, and the day tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow."
Jace recoiled his face in shock.
"What?! Are you serious?!"
"I am."
"These—these people drive me crazy! I don't understand how you can deal with them every day! What's the point of keeping me here if I can't manage any sales in your shop? Isn't it better to just drop me today?"
"Jacey-boy, you are young. You must learn the values of work before you can live on your own. What about responsibilities? Would you learn that from ascending the Tower?"
"I know how to take care of myself, old man."
"And yet you crawl back to me with every squad you've departed with."
Jace grumbled something quietly, turning his face away. Then he said back to the old man:
"Fine, I'll help you with your appraisals. But don't expect anything great from me, seriously, I don't have the silver tongue like you do."
Mister Finch nodded with some satisfaction.
"That is fine, as long as you're working. And by the looks of the time, our break is over. Open the blinds, if you may."
Jace sighed, standing up from his comfortable chair to face the horde of customers.
'Just three days…I can make it, then I'm out of here. I'll catch up to them.'