"I need a loan."
Kaizen said, letting his finger rest on the black card like he was making some kind of power move.
The merchant just stared at him. He had this wheat stalk hanging out of his mouth, and he chewed on it real slow, rolling it from one side to the other like he was thinking deeply about the mysteries of the universe.
Or maybe he was just trying to figure out if Kaizen was actually retarded or if it was some kind of elaborate prank.
"A loan... And this thing right here is the collateral?"
"No, that is the liability."
The merchant stopped chewing. For a second, everything went quiet. Then this slow, greasy smile started spreading across his face like oil on water.
It was the kind of smile that made you want to check if you still had your wallet. The kind of smile that sharks probably practiced in mirrors before going hunting.
"You're a crazy bastard, aren't you, kid?"
The merchant heaved himself forward, his potbelly squashing against the wooden counter hard enough that Kaizen heard it creak. The whole setup looked like it might collapse, but apparently this counter had seen worse days.
"People literally kill each other to get into Zenith Academy. Whole families sell everything they own, their houses, their heirlooms, their grandmother's jewelry, just to scrape together enough money for a shot at the entrance exam. And here you are, standing in my shop, using your golden ticket to paradise as a gambling chip in what is objectively a complete dump.
"Do you know what happens if you default?"
The merchant's voice dropped to this theatrical hiss, like he was sharing the secret to eternal damnation.
"I do."
If Kaizen didn't pay back the money, the merchant would just stroll right up to the Academy gates with that black card in hand.
The Academy was absolutely obsessed with maintaining its pristine reputation, the kind of obsession that bordered on psychotic. They couldn't let a scandal involving unpaid debts to some black market fence spread around. The gossip alone would kill them.
So they would pay the merchant immediately, probably throwing in extra just to make absolutely sure he kept his mouth shut forever.
And then Kaizen's part in this story would get really short really fast.
They would expel him at minimum.
But considering the severity of bringing shame to the institution, dragging their good name through the mud of the Scrapyard, they might just decide that a tragic training accident during the next dungeon crawl would be more convenient for everyone involved.
Well, everyone except Kaizen.
"It's a death sentence. Haha ha. You're basically handing me a loaded gun, showing me exactly where the bullets are, and then pointing the barrel directly at your own head."
"Only if I miss the payment. I don't plan on missing."
The merchant laughed louder, and it was this rough, hacking sound like his lungs were filing a formal complaint. His whole body shook with it.
"I like you. You've got serious guts. Or maybe you've got brain damage from huffing paint thinner. Either way, this is the most entertaining thing that's happened to me all week."
He spat the wheat stalk onto the floor where it joined what looked like several generations of previous wheat stalks.
"Name's Gino. Now tell me, how much does a suicidal student need?"
"Ten thousand crowns."
Gino actually whistled, long and low.
"Ten grand? For a student? What are you planning to buy, a baby wyvern? A small house? A politician? Nah, I am just kidding. You can't do anything with ten grands. But, do tell me, what do you need this much money?"
"Supplies. Potions. Stamina elixirs. Hiking gear. Quality stuff, not the watered down garbage they sell to tourists. I have a condition."
He tapped his chest for emphasis. His Mild Asthma debuff was already starting to act up just from breathing the dust floating around this disaster of a shop. The idea of climbing a mountain without serious chemical assistance wasn't bravery.
It was just suicide with extra steps and worse scenery.
"And the term?" Gino leaned in, suddenly all business.
"Two days."
Gino's eyebrow shot up so fast it nearly left his face.
"Two days? To generate ten thousand crowns? Kid, unless your backup plan involves robbing the royal treasury or discovering a dragon's hoard in your basement, that's actually impossible."
"That's my problem. What's the interest rate?"
Gino's grin got wider, showing off these gold-capped teeth that probably cost more than everything Kaizen owned combined.
"Ten times."
Kaizen didn't even blink. "One hundred thousand crowns. Due in forty-eight hours."
"Deal," Gino said, and he slammed his meaty hand down on the counter so hard the whole structure shuddered.
Inside his head, Gino was practically doing a victory dance.
'This kid was absolutely insane! There was no possible way he could pay this back!'
He was definitely going to default! Which meant Gino was going to march straight to the Academy and get paid by them instead!
It was literally free money falling from the sky! The universe was just handing him profit for doing absolutely nothing!
Gino raised his left hand with this theatrical flourish.
On his pinky finger sat a ring. It was gold, aggressively gaudy in that way that screamed new money, and it had this massive crimson ruby set in the middle that glowed with faint mana pulses.
He waved his hand through the air.
Flash.
Ten heavy silver coins materialized on the counter with this satisfying metallic clink that echoed through the shop.
Kaizen stared at the ring like it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his entire life.
He was mentally taking notes. Spatial Storage Ring. Inventory space with apparently no weight limit. Instant access to anything stored inside. He needed that ring. He needed it so badly his fingers were practically twitching.
The possibilities were endless. The convenience was astronomical. The sheer utility made his brain light up like a Christmas tree.
He dragged his eyes away from the ring and looked down at the coins sitting there.
Silver Crown. Value: 1,000 Copper Crowns each.
"Can you break one?" I need small change for the bus fare."
Gino rolled his eyes so hard Kaizen worried they might get stuck that way. He waved his hand again with significantly less enthusiasm this time.
One silver coin vanished into thin air. Ten copper coins with 100 etched on the surface, appeared in its place with a quieter, less impressive clink.
"There. Happy now?"
"Very."
Kaizen said, scooping all the money into his pocket where it made a reassuring weight. He pointed at the merchant's hand, specifically at that beautiful, wonderful, absolutely necessary ring.
"By the way, how much for the ring?"
Gino looked at his ring. Then he looked at the broke student standing in front of him who had just taken out a loan he definitely couldn't repay. Then he looked back at his ring.
"Two million," Gino said without even a hint of humor in his voice. "Plus tax."
"Right."
Kaizen grabbed his backpack and turned to leave, heading toward the exit and whatever fresh disaster awaited him outside.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Gino."
"The pleasure is all mine, walking corpse!"
Gino called out after him, sounding genuinely cheerful about it. He picked up the ID card with both hands and actually kissed it like it was his firstborn child.
"I'll be seeing you in two days! Or I'll be reading your obituary in the newspaper! Either way, I win!"
Kaizen walked out through the bead curtain.
Clack-clack.
The alley was completely different now.
The eyes watching from the shadows were gone. The thick atmosphere of malice that had been pressing down on him earlier had evaporated like morning dew.
The thieves and cutthroats who had definitely been stalking him, calculating how much his organs were worth on the black market, were suddenly nowhere to be seen.
Word traveled faster than wildfire in the Scrapyard.
The kid was officially a VIP client of Gino. Touching him would be catastrophically bad for business.
Kaizen walked back down the muddy lane, one hand clutching the coins in his pocket to keep them from jingling and attracting the wrong kind of attention.
Food was secured. Now, money too was secured. And that leaves the last part. Essentials.
He stopped walking.
Sitting on a wooden crate, staring blankly at the sun like he was having a philosophical conversation with it, was the emaciated man with the Fire Demon's rusted pan.
He looked exactly the same as before, like time had forgotten he existed.
Kaizen stood there for a moment, looking at the man. He felt this uncomfortable pang of pity twist in his chest.