“Hopper? I said I was sorry. Will you stop giving me the silent treatment and talk to me?” I say as we walk through the streets of the capital.

  Hopper munches on a carrot as he doesn’t answer me.

  “I don’t know, Charlatan. I think he’s still angry at you,” Penelope says.

  “Ok. I messed up, but how was I supposed to know that you hadn’t told Luna that you were in the Advanced class? It didn’t seem like a thing you would hide from a person. Hopper? Say something,” I say.

  Hopper gives me a cold glare that sends a shiver down my spine.

  “What is it going to take? Do you want money? My left shoe? I have cookies. Will that work? I’m willing to do anything here, Hopper.”

  “You could get him to perform a one-man play or maybe have him tell you an embarrassing secret,” Penelope interjects.

  “Nobody is talking to you, Penelope. This should be something that Hopper decides,” I say, trying to butt her out of the conversation.

  “No. I like the Princesses' suggestions. In fact. I’ll leave it to her to decide what you should do to get my good graces back,” Hopper says for the first time today.

  “Now, there’s no need to be hasty. We-”

  “I’ve made my decision. Princess, the honor is yours,” he says, taking glee in my fear.

  Penelope's shocked expression quickly shifts into one of immense joy. “What should I have you do? There’s a plethora of things that would be embarrassing to the average individual. I could have you put on a one-man play or maybe have you say something embarrassing to the student body,” she threatens.

  Ok. Actually, those aren’t too bad. I think I can take those. In fact, I think she’s going a little easy on me. That’s odd.

  “But as I said, those would be embarrassing to the average individual, of which you are not. You’re a Charlatan. A liar, thief, and cheat. The most fitting punishment is within sight,” she says, pointing to a nearby building.

  “What’s that, and why do I get the feeling that I’ve been set up?” I ask.

  Neither Hopper nor Penelope answers as we head towards the nondescript building. As we enter, an older human man stands up to greet us.

  “Have you come to make a donation to the local food bank?” the old man asks.

  They’ve set me up. I thought we were heading to a shop to buy equipment. I have all my money with me. Hopper, you liar! I couldn’t be any prouder.

  Penelope gives a slight push on the back. “Yes, our friend would love to make a sizable donation to the local food bank. Isn’t that right?” she asks with a threatening tone.

  Looking back at Hopper, I plead with my eyes.

  He nods and flanks me. “Actually, I just talked to my friend. He would also like to donate some of his time. I think he said ‘All afternoon next weekend’,” Hopper says, dashing my hopes.

  With a begrudging smile, I look at the old man. “I would love to do… everything my friends just said. I love giving away my hard-earned money,” I say begrudgingly.

  “Thank you. We are always in need of volunteers, and donations are always accepted. How much would you like to donate?” the old man asks.

  I shuffle through my coat and the various hidden pockets. Slowly, but surely, I create a small pile of gold coins on the countertop. As I go to speak, Penelope gives me a nudge and a look. Fine. I fish through the last pocket, producing another gold coin.

  “I would love to donate eleven gold coins,” I say, with each burning a hole through my stomach.

  The old man's eyes grow wide at the sight of the gold coins. “By the Gods. You truly are a generous man. This will be put to good use. May I know your name, so that I may include you in prayers?” he asks.

  “I’m CJ, and it’s my pleasure. I’ll see you this weekend,” I say as we leave the building.

  Hopper pats me on the back. “Now I forgive you. Let's go to the weapon shop.”

  “For what? I can’t buy anything anyway,” I say as I trudge along beside them.

  “Eleven gold coins weren’t going to buy a pamphlet at this place we’re going to anyway. Since we’re a team and my life hinges on our capabilities, I’ll finance the new equipment. Consider it an investment in our continued existence as living beings,” Penelope explains.

  “Is that why you’ve been carrying around platinum coins?” I ask as we walk.

  “Yes. I’ve been meaning to go to this shop since last weekend, but Hopper was busy training, and then I had matters to attend to the next day. Also, you never answered my question. How did you know I had platinum coins?”

  “Well- Oh look, it’s the shop,” I say as I rush to the shop.

  As I run down the street, a red building comes into view. It has a giant sign that says ‘Emporium of Violet Magic’. Getting closer, I watch as magical lights float around the entrance of the shop. That seems expensive. Opening the door, I feel a rush of heat blast past me. That feels expensive. Entering the shop, I watch as an Elven man with purple hair and expensive clothes jumps out. Oh, this is expensive.

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  “Welcome one and all to the Emporium of Violet Magic. I hope that you came with a heavy coin pouch and the will to spend it. Quality price for quality items is the slogan of our shop,” the Elf recites with pizazz.

  Penelope passes me as I stand there, stunned at the display he just put on. “Good evening. We are students at Sylvian University, and we were hoping to upgrade to better equipment.”

  A flash of recognition passes through the Elf. “Of course, Princess Penelope. We have a wide assortment of equipment that should satisfy your needs. Follow me,” he says, heading further into the shop.

  As we follow, I take a look at the numerous magical items around us. A shortsword with a vibrating blade, a shield that floats on its own, and armor that blends into its surroundings. I mean, it looks like he has everything in here. Eventually, we stop in a corner of the shop where some more mundane items reside.

  “These are the magical items I’m allowed to sell to first years. Please pick from these,” he explains.

  “Why can you only sell us these items?” I ask out of genuine curiosity.

  “The school and I agree that giving students items that they can’t yet handle is a recipe for disaster. So, I’ve hand-picked some items that are still useful, but not powerful enough to give you a sense of overconfidence,” the Elf explains.

  I nod in acknowledgment. “That’s some sound logic,” I say as I walk the aisles.

  Lots of swords, shields, armor, and various other things. I realistically can’t use a sword. I end up throwing it half of the time, and the other half I swing wildly, hoping to hit something. Armour might not be a bad idea. It’ll keep me alive longer. As I look, a silver shield catches my attention. Picking it up, I struggle to hold it up.

  I sigh as I let the shield fall down. What in fuck do you mean? Are you calling me weak? This is some grade A bullshit. The [System] just called me weak. I didn’t even realize that equipment could have requirements like that.

  Let’s just pick something else. A sword with a black hilt calls out to me. I know I said I can’t use a sword, but I can learn. Grabbing the hilt, I struggle to pick it up. You'd better not.

  You asshole! I let go of the sword and head over to the daggers. I lift it with ease. Finally.

  You're taunting me. You blue piece of shit. If you weren’t a [System Message], I’d beat your ass. I don’t think I’m going to be able to use anything here. If I can’t [Equip] anything, that means I can’t use its [Skills]. Which means that it'd just be an expensive sharp stick in my hands. There has to be something that I can use.

  As my eyes wander, I find a purplish blade in the corner. It doesn’t look very sharp, but I’m getting from this one. Grabbing its hilt, I wait for the [System Message] to appear.

  With a breath of relief, I open the description of the weapon.

  Why in the Hells is this blade in this corner? I mean, this seems detrimental to an absurd amount. Look at this thing. It looks like it couldn’t even cut through a sheet of paper, much less a goblin. I gently tap the blade against the barrel it was in. In astonishment, I watch as the blade sinks a good five inches into the barrel. It just cut through that like it was butter. Is this an incredible find?

  “Oh dear. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that the Uneven Blade was in here. One of my customers must have left it here by accident. Let me take that off your hands,” the Elf says.

  “No, actually, I think I’ll take this,” I say, pulling away from him.

  “Why? It’s useless. You’d be lucky to cut through air with that thing,” the Elven man says as he tries to dissuade me.

  “I have my reasons. Trust me.”

  The Elf relents. “You are the customer.”

  As I keep testing the items and continue to get [System Messages], I find Penelope. She seems to be looking at two greatswords. One with a blue hilt and the other with a black hilt.

  “Did you find something interesting?” I ask.

  “Yeah. I’m trying to decide between the two of these,” she says, pointing out the greatswords.

  “What do they do?”

  “The blue one reduces the cost of one of my [Skills] MP-wise while I wield it. The black one can physically change its size down to the size of a shortsword,” she explains.

  “That’s a hard one. Considering that we’re going to be in a Dungeon with tight corridors, you might benefit from the black one more than the blue,” I say.

  “I’ll keep thinking on it. How about you?” she asks.

  “I got this,” I say, holding up the purple blade.

  “What does it do?”

  “It cuts things.”

  As Penelope glares at me, Hopper turns the corner. “Look what I found,” he says, holding up a white quiver and bow.

  “What’s that do?” Penelope and I ask simultaneously.

  We glare at each other as Hopper explains, “Whenever I shoot an arrow, another arrow will appear in the quiver to replace it. It’s an infinite arrow machine fueled by ambient MP!”

  How does that even work? Does it make arrows from the ambient MP, or does it retrieve the arrows it shoots? Maybe there’s a Fletcher somewhere constantly feeding arrows into the quiver via magic. So many questions with so few answers.

  Penelope grabs the black greatsword. “That’s awesome, Hopper. If we’re done browsing, let's go pay,” she says as she heads to the counter.

  As I follow, I grip my new blade tight. Just wait, you red slime. We’re going to get you this time! There can only be one [Throw] user in this town.