Kaizen walked back into the shop feeling pretty good about himself. The bead curtain made its usual rattling sound, clack-clack, announcing his return like some kind of cheap drumroll.
Gino glanced up from whatever ledger he was writing in. He immediately spotted the silver ring sitting on Kaizen's finger, then slowly drifted his gaze up to look at the boy's face, which had this unique expression of someone who was simultaneously exhausted as hell and incredibly smug about something.
"Well?"
Gino asked while setting down his jeweler's loupe.
"Please tell me my investment was not a complete waste of good silver. Did you actually bring me something worth fencing, or am I going to have to start selling your organs to recoup my losses?"
Kaizen did not even bother dignifying that threat with a verbal response. He simply walked straight to the back section of the shop, heading to what Gino called the Heavy Storage area, which was basically just a euphemism for a patch of cleared dirt floor usually reserved for stolen golems and other massive loot.
He raised his hand up. The silver band on his pinky finger started humming as he pushed his pathetic mana into the release rune.
Vwoom.
What came out was not just a few items. It was an absolute deluge of treasure.
Golden chalices with gems embedded in them, jeweled sword hilts, dented paladin armor still caked with literal centuries of dust, and ancient flags and murials woven with threads of actual mana all spilled out into reality at once.
Everything created this chaotic, clattering heap that just kept piling up until it reached Kaizen's waist.
Gino stared at the mountain of loot. He slowly took off his glasses, wiped them carefully on his vest, and put them back on. The massive pile was still sitting there.
"Mother of Mercy," Gino whispered while stepping around the counter to slowly circle the mound. "You did not just go looting. You excavated an entire historical era."
"I prefer the term salvage," Kaizen corrected while stifling a yawn. "Finders keepers, standard rules of the wasteland."
Gino picked up one of the golden goblets, his fingers gently brushing over the mysterious engravings carved into the metal.
"This is from the Era of the Great Purge," he muttered, his voice dropping to this reverent hush. "First Dynasty period. The craftsmanship alone is museum quality. The magical resonance is dormant right now, but you can feel how pure it is. This is not just random loot, kid. This is actual heritage."
He turned around to face Kaizen, his eyes reflecting all the glitter of the gold surrounding them. That familiar shark-like greed was definitely there in his expression, but it seemed tempered by genuine professional respect.
"I cannot pay you cash for all of this right now. I do not have enough liquid assets just sitting around in the shop. Hell, I do not think the bank down the street has enough money in their vault to cover this amount comfortably."
"That works fine for me," Kaizen said. He slid the Vault Ring off his finger and casually tossed it through the air.
Gino caught the ring with practiced ease like he had done this a thousand times. In exchange, he slid Kaizen's black ID card across the counter.
"I will appraise everything tonight. It is going to take me several hours just to properly catalog all the gems. I will deduct your initial loan amount, subtract the agreed fifteen percent Partnership Fee, and wire the remainder directly to your student account when I sell these stuff."
Kaizen picked up his precious ID card, tucking it away safely in his pocket.
"Sounds good to me. And Gino? Please do not try to lowball me. I know exactly what a First Dynasty Goblet goes for on the collector's market."
"I would not dream of it," Gino scoffed, though he was definitely smiling. "Fleecing a business partner is terrible for long-term relationships. I want you to keep coming back to me, after all."
Gino held up the silver ring, twisting it in the dim light.
"You want to buy this back from me? Since you are about to be absolutely flush with cash? I can put it on your tab. Save you the trouble of having to return it next time you need storage."
Kaizen actually hesitated for a moment.
He looked at the ring sitting in Gino's hand. It was honestly the ultimate convenience. No more backaches from carrying heavy loads. No more suspicious hiking bags that drew attention.
The problem was that it was ridiculously expensive to buy.
He thought about his mental shopping list. Skill books to learn magic. High-grade healing potions. Bribes for information brokers who knew academy secrets. Maybe even paying off whatever mysterious tuition debt he might secretly have.
"No thanks," Kaizen decided, shaking his head. "Not yet anyway. I need the liquidity more than the convenience right now. I will stick to using a regular backpack for a little longer."
"Suit yourself," Gino shrugged while slipping the ring onto his own finger. "More interest money for me later."
"Pleasure doing business, Gino."
"Get out of my shop, you profitable little monster. I have actual work to do."
Kaizen stepped out into the cooling evening air. The market was winding down for the day, with the frantic energy of commerce settling into the quiet hum of the night shift. Shadows stretched long across the dirt paths.
He reached the end of the alley and stopped walking.
The old wooden crate was still sitting there. Except this time, it was not empty.
Leaning casually against the gnarly trunk of a dead tree was the Pan Seller.
He looked like a completely different man compared to before. His cheeks were not sunken caverns anymore. They actually had a hint of healthy color. His eyes, which had been so dull with hunger earlier, were now bright and alert.
He was picking his teeth with a wooden splinter, letting out a contented sigh, with the greasy wrapper of a meat skewer lying at his feet.
He spotted Kaizen.
The man straightened up immediately. He did not bow like a servant or cower like a beggar. He stood up like a man who had regained the ability to look the world directly in the eye.
"Hey."
"Hey," Kaizen replied while hoisting his backpack higher. "Did you enjoy the meal?"
"Best meal of my entire life. He he he. I ate a whole cow. Or at least, it felt like I ate an entire cow."
He pushed himself off the tree and extended a hand.
"The name is Orin," he said while pointing a thumb at his own chest. "I used to be a blacksmith. A pretty bad one, maybe, but a blacksmith nonetheless."
He looked at Kaizen, his expression turning serious.
"You saved my life today, kid. I will not forget it. I do not have money, and I do not have magic powers. But I have a memory."
Orin tapped his temple with a calloused finger.
"One day, I will pay you back. With interest."
Kaizen smiled. He patted the Rusty Pan of Doom strapped to his side.
"You already gave me a fantastic weapon, Orin. We are square."
"Nah," Orin shook his head, his grin returning. "We are just getting started."
He waved a hand and walked off into the crowd, whistling some tune, disappearing into the twilight like a ghost who had decided to live again.
Kaizen watched him go.
Orin the Blacksmith, Kaizen noted mentally. Might be useful later. Or maybe he is just a guy who really likes food. Either way, it was probably a good investment.
He checked his watch.
Six o'clock in the evening.
The moment he stopped moving, the adrenaline crash hit him like getting smacked with a physical blow.
His legs turned to absolute lead. His eyelids felt like someone had attached cast iron weights to them. The cumulative exhaustion of hiking a literal death mountain, fighting a legendary boss with a frying pan, and committing high-stakes tax fraud all washed over him at once.
"I need a bed," Kaizen groaned, his posture slumping. "I need a pillow. I need to go unconscious for twelve hours straight."
He shuffled toward the bus stop, dragging his feet.
"Monday is going to be absolute hell."