The world beyond the village was bigger, louder, and much more confusing than I'd imagined. Birds shrieked, insects buzzed, and every bush looked like it might contain either a friendly squirrel or a twelve-foot slime with dietary issues. I walked at a brisk pace, keeping my hood up and my eyes glued to the shimmering blue map the system projected in my sight. The magical overlay tracked my path, painted the landscape with little icons trees, roads, ominous skulls, occasional exclamation marks and best of all, it highlighted any moving creature within a hundred meters.
[Host, you are approaching an area marked "Mossgrove." Moderate monster presence: wild boar, horned rabbits, and occasional forest sprites. Caution is advised, but none are currently on an intercept course. You are free to walk… or run, if you insist on drama.]
"Very funny," I muttered. "Let's hope the only thing that finds me is lunch."
After hours on the road, my stomach reminded me of its existence with a sound like a bear in a wind tunnel. Gold in my pocket, fire in my veins, but not a single sandwich to my name. I slipped off the path, weaving through the underbrush, searching for any sign of prey.
It didn't take long. A fat pheasant so blissfully unaware of the misery of human life pecked at the roots near a thicket. I crouched, channeled my inner predator, and after a mildly embarrassing stumble sent a neat Flame Dart straight into the bird's path. It flapped and dropped with a squawk, dinner served.
I made my way to a quiet clearing well off the main road, scanning the area for red dots (system code for "monster" or "bandit with ambitions"). Nothing. The only audience was a disinterested squirrel.
With practiced hands, I plucked the bird and, using a few sticks and a tiny swirl of fire, built a small campfire. I roasted the pheasant over the flames, the scent twisting through the trees, making my mouth water.
As I ate, savoring crispy skin and the soft, greasy meat, I let myself feel a little proud. Just days ago, I'd have killed for a crust of bread. Now, I hunted and cooked like a small, resourceful wolf with trust issues and an attitude problem.
"System, you're good for maps and warnings, but is there anything in that all-powerful toolkit of yours that can make travel easier?" I asked between bites.
[Host, you are now eligible to access the System Shop. Interested in some retail therapy?]
I nearly choked on my last mouthful. "You mean I could have been shopping this whole time and nobody told me?"
[Correction: You had to leave the village, kill a minimum of three monsters, and prove basic survival skills first. Consider it anti-fool insurance.]
I wiped my hands, settled back against a mossy rock, and thought Open Shop. Instantly, a dazzling blue window unfurled in the air, so ornate and sparkly it might have blinded a less jaded traveler.
SYSTEM SHOP
Categories:
Weapons (Grades F to SS)
Armor & Clothes
Magic & Skills
Potions & Food
Familiars
Tools & Utilities
Miscellaneous ("Random, shiny, and occasionally cursed!")
I tapped Weapons first, because, honestly, who doesn't dream of wandering the land with a sword bigger than their sense of vengeance?
The listings appeared in a neat column:
F-Grade Dagger: 20 gold ("Cuts bread, occasionally enemies.")
E-Grade Short Sword: 60 gold ("A reliable companion, unlike your family.")
D-Grade Magic Staff: 110 gold ("Now with extra sparkles.")
C-Grade Longbow: 200 gold ("For those with good aim or a lot of arrows.")
B-Grade Flaming Sword: 400 gold ("Impress your friends. Terrify your enemies.")
SS-Grade Worldbreaker Blade: 250,000 gold ("Guaranteed overkill. Comes with free existential crisis.")
I stared at my own gold pouch maybe a hundred coins, if I hadn't been robbed by karma in my sleep. I could just about afford the bread-cutting dagger, but the Worldbreaker Blade would take several lifetimes and a bank heist.
I scrolled to Armor & Clothes:
Woolen Tunic (F): 10 gold ("Perfect for when you want to look humble.")
Traveler's Boots (E): 35 gold ("+5% speed. -10% likelihood of blisters.")
Cloak of Shadows (C): 200 gold ("For sneaking. Or dramatic entrances.")
Royal Gown of Resilience (A): 900 gold ("Impress nobles and annoy your enemies.")
Phoenix Feather Mantle (SS): 100,000 gold ("Fireproof. Fashionable. Questionable taste.")
"Do people actually buy these?" I asked the system.
[Yes, but they rarely live long enough to review them.]
The Familiars tab caught my eye next. I'd read enough stories to know a proper adventurer needed a magical sidekick.
Tiny Flame Spirit (F): 60 gold ("Keeps you warm at night. May set your bed on fire.")
Shadow Cat (E): 120 gold ("Silent, deadly, demands fish.")
Thunder Wolf Pup (C): 450 gold ("Loyal, loud, makes storms.")
Pocket Dragon (A): 2,500 gold ("May bite your enemies. Also your fingers.")
Celestial Phoenix (SS): 1,000,000 gold ("If you have to ask, you can't afford it.")
Tempting, but unless I robbed a royal vault, I'd stick to real animals and sarcasm for company.
I scrolled to Magic & Skills:
Beginner Fireball (F): 30 gold ("Explode responsibly.")
Ice Shard (E): 50 gold ("Cool, sharp, and just a little bit petty.")
Minor Healing (E): 75 gold ("For when bandages aren't enough.")
Wind Step (D): 120 gold ("Run like your life depends on it.")
Shadow Meld (C): 250 gold ("Hide from your enemies, your friends, or that weird guy from the tavern.")
Elemental Mastery (SS): 200,000 gold ("Unlock the power of the gods. Batteries not included.")
If only I could buy "Family Erasure" but apparently that wasn't in stock.
I checked Potions & Food:
Health Potion (F): 10 gold ("Tastes terrible, works great.")
Mana Potion (E): 20 gold ("Caffeine, but for wizards.")
Traveler's Stew (D): 15 gold ("Not as good as rabbit. Better than starvation.")
"Anything for discounts?" I asked, only half joking.
[Host, the best discount is not dying. But if you accumulate 'Shop Points' through quests and achievements, you can unlock special deals.]
"Well," I said, finishing my last bite of pheasant, "at least I have goals. One day, Phoenix Feather Mantle. One day."
I closed the window, feeling a little lighter knowing that even if I was broke, at least I could window shop for my dreams. Maybe I'd buy boots and a dagger soon; maybe I'd save up for a familiar that didn't try to set my backpack on fire.
The sun was high now. My stomach full, my purse only slightly lighter, and my curiosity more alive than ever. I packed up and headed east again, boots crunching over roots, ready for whatever the next stretch of wilderness and the shop's temptations would throw my way.
[Keep your wits about you, Host. The next village is still a day away, and the monsters here don't offer refunds.]
"Bring it on," I whispered, smiling. "If all else fails, maybe I'll just open a roadside stall and sell sarcastic commentary."