Chapter 4: Shadow Fang’s Den.
Ethan stepped out of the Adventurer’s Guild, the quest slip clenched tightly in his hand. The sun overhead wasn’t like Earth’s—it cast a soft copper glow over the cobbled streets of Ember Town, bathing the world in warm, dusky light.
He took a deep breath and grinned.
"I flirted with an actual woman."
Not just that—he had an adventurer’s pass, a quest, and for the first time in four years, he wasn’t stuck in his room rotting behind a screen. For once, he didn’t feel like a loser.
With newfound confidence, he headed to the nearest gear merchant. The shop was more like a roadside stall. A crooked wooden stand with faded cloth overhead. The owner was a toothless old man who barely looked up from his lap when Ethan approached.
"Sir, I need a sword," Ethan said politely.
’The more polite I am, the higher the discount,’ he thought.
The old man yawned and tossed a rusty blade onto the counter. It looked like it had been chewed up by wolves.
"Rookie special. Take it or leave it, young man."
"And what about armor?"
The man lazily pointed his chin toward a patchy leather vest hanging from a bent nail.