The twenty-third day of the Month of Fire. I was taking a leisurely stroll alone through the streets of the Royal Capital, which were bustling in the mid-afternoon.
Now that Kusunoki-san, Yuzuki-san, and I had all learned the fundamentals of magic, we were finally permitted to walk around the capital without guards.
For some reason, Lilia-san had desperately tried to insist on giving me a guard anyway, though she eventually gave in. I wonder why she was so stubborn about it? I suppose since I'm weaker than the others in terms of combat power, a worrywart like her just couldn't feel at ease.
It was true that my magic had zero offensive capability, but my sensory abilities were exceptionally high. I could immediately tell if anyone approaching held malice or hostility, so in a way, I felt quite safe.
Besides, Kuro seemed to have a plan regarding my lack of combat power. Starting tonight, she was going to teach me some basic combat magic for self-defense. I didn't know exactly what she had in mind, but the prospect of having a way to protect myself was a relief—and honestly, something I was looking forward to.
Lost in thought, I happened to notice a particular shop.
Tucked slightly away from the main thoroughfare was a building with a sign that simply read: General Store. Now that I thought about it, I’d be heading to the Elf Forest soon for the Treasure Tree Festival. It might be wise to do some preparation. I wasn't participating in the hunt, only the harvest, but if I was going to be picking fruit in the woods, I should probably at least have a knife.
"Hello?" I said, opening the wooden door.
The interior was much larger than the storefront suggested, with shelves packed tightly into every available space. I glanced around, but the shopkeeper was nowhere to be seen. I tried calling out again, but there was no response.
"Is anyone here? Excuse me!"
I raised my voice a bit, but still nothing. The door hadn't been locked, so the shop had to be open. Just then, I caught a faint voice coming from the back. Tilting my head, I walked toward the sound.
"...What's the deal here? How am I supposed to survive on these kinds of earnings, y'know?"
"Huh?"
At the back of the store, behind what looked like a counter, I was met with a sight that was almost impossible to process.
"I went to all the trouble of opening a shop in the capital, and not a single customer shows up..."
An "object" that appeared to be the shopkeeper was muttering to itself while counting coins. The act itself was normal enough, but the shopkeeper's appearance was anything but. It had yellowish-brown, fluffy, elastic-looking limbs made of fabric. It looked like a stylized cat... no, that wasn't right. I didn't have the words to describe this bizarre sight properly.
To put it simply, a person in a full cat costume was hunched over the counter, grumbling as they sorted through their money.
Why is this person wearing a mascot suit indoors? Are they an idiot?
"Ugh, isn't there some easy way to make money without working? I thought if I opened a shop, people would just wander in and give me their gold, but the inventory is a pain and nothing's selling, y'know."
The sight of this weirdo in a cat suit counting coins while complaining was so surreal that I instantly regretted entering. Based on the voice, it seemed to be a young woman, but the costume completely ruined any other impression.
"If only some rich, gullible-looking customer would wander in, I’d fleece them for everything they’re worth."
"..."
Yeah. This person was definitely trouble. I needed to get out of here before she noticed me.
"Seriously, where's a good mark when you need one—hm?"
"—!"
"..."
"..."
Crap. She saw me. Our eyes—or at least the eye-holes of the suit—met perfectly.
A stifling, awkward silence descended between us. After a few seconds, I spun around and made a break for the door.
"Welcome!"
"?!"
She cut me off.
She was fast! In the blink of an eye, she had circled around me and was now standing with her back to the door. The sheer determination in her posture—clearly signaling that she wouldn't let me escape—made me stumble back. I had really picked the wrong shop to walk into.
"What can I help you find? Boy, talk about luck! You’ve arrived just as we’ve restocked everything!"
"Uh, well, actually..."
You didn't "restock," you just have a mountain of unsold inventory because nobody comes here!
I had been completely targeted. The person in the cat suit was slowly closing the distance while rubbing its paws together. It was like something out of a B-grade horror movie.
"I was just... looking. I don't really need to buy anything..."
"No, no, now is the perfect time! See, we're... we're having a huge sale right now!"
She definitely just made that up! It couldn't have been more obvious!
However, the person in front of me was technically a professional merchant. Now that I was cornered, I lacked the social finesse to talk my way out of this. I suppose I should just treat this like being bitten by a stray dog—buy a few things and get out of here.
"...By the way, what kind of budget are we looking at?"
"U-Um... maybe around 5,000R?"
In reality, I had more than 40,000R on me, but I wasn't stupid enough to be honest about that. That said, I was wearing high-quality clothes that wouldn't look out of place on a noble. I figured quoting too low a price would only cause more trouble, so I settled on an amount roughly equivalent to 500,000 yen.
Even if she forced me to spend every last cent of it, I could just write it off as the cost of a bad encounter with a high-pressure salesperson.
"...5,000R..."
I felt the shopkeeper's gaze shift. I couldn't see her eyes through the suit, but the atmosphere changed instantly. To be precise, she looked like she had just found her "good mark."
Alright... what's the play? Is she going to threaten me into buying something, or use some high-level sales tactics to charm me? Either way, she’s a pro. I didn't see a way out.
As I braced myself, the shopkeeper slowly dropped her right knee to the floor, followed by her left. Finally, she planted both hands on the ground.
"Please... please buy something."
"..."
A dogeza. A full, formal prostration. It was a refined, perfectly executed dogeza that cast aside every shred of professional pride and dignity.
"I'm begging you. I haven't eaten a decent meal in days."
"..."
She followed the dogeza with a pathetic plea for pity. Watching the woman in the cat suit grovel before me, I stood there in stunned silence.
Dear Mother, Father—for some reason, I’ve run into another weirdo. Long story short, I encountered a very strange shopkeeper.