Chương 106: Let's Blow Some Cash

June didn't even dignify my accusation with a response. Not a defense. Not an apology. Not even a mildly offended aristocratic scoff. Nothing. She simply looked at me with the same calm expression one might use after being informed that the sky was blue. Then she continued the conversation as if I hadn't just questioned her morality regarding the casual dehumanization of an entire civilization.

"Now that we have addressed that matter," June said smoothly, adjusting a strand of hair with effortless elegance, "I believe it would be prudent for us to acquire our first pieces of Tier One equipment." I stared at her.

"..." She ignored me. She actually ignored me. I had just launched a heartfelt public service announcement titled Please Stop Calling the Locals NPCs, and this woman responded by immediately transitioning into shopping plans. It was impressive. Terrifying. But impressive. Honestly, if a meteor crashed through the roof right now, June would probably glance at it before asking whether the impact site had any decent boutiques nearby. I narrowed my eyes.

"You know what? Fine." I pointed at her.

"We're apparently not unpacking that whole NPC thing." June merely lifted her chin.

"The discussion has already concluded."

"No, it absolutely hasn't."

"It has."

"It really hasn't."

"It has for me." I let out a defeated sigh. There were many battles in life. Some were worth fighting. Others involved arguing with a woman who carried herself like the universe had personally appointed her manager. I shook my head.

"Alright." I pointed toward the marketplace terminal.

"Fine."

"We'll revisit your alarming lack of concern for philosophical implications another day."

"Do as you wish," June replied.

"I shall undoubtedly survive the experience." Amazing. She said that with the confidence of someone discussing weather forecasts. I turned back toward the glowing marketplace interface before I developed a migraine. The translucent blue panel remained suspended in the air before me. Its gentle light reflected across polished floors and dancing evening shadows within the Player Center. The terminal responded immediately to my attention.

Earlier, I had approached this magical board as a desperate entrepreneur dumping monster leftovers onto the economy and praying somebody out there had questionable hobbies. Now? I was approaching it from the opposite side. I had become a customer. The transformation was complete. I had evolved from dungeon scavenger into financially irresponsible shopper. My wallet immediately started sweating. I extended my hand toward the interface.

"Okay," I muttered.

"Let's see what happens when I become the problem." This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. The marketplace responded. Fresh lines of text flowed across the floating display. [There are two methods of purchasing goods.] [Method One: Search for a specific item and purchase the listing with the lowest available price.] [Method Two: Submit a purchase request for a desired item. Sellers may choose to fulfill your request if they accept the proposed conditions.] I read the explanation carefully. Then once again. Then I immediately reached my conclusion.

"... Yeah, no." I folded my arms.

"I don't have the patience for purchase requests." I pointed accusingly at the second option.

"That sounds like posting a classified ad and then spending the next week checking your mailbox every five minutes hoping someone finally answers." I shuddered.

"I've already waited all day to collect my profits."

"Waiting longer voluntarily sounds like a side quest designed by a sadist." My gaze shifted toward the direct purchase option. Now that? That was speaking my language. See thing. Click thing. Buy thing. Instant gratification. The ancient tradition responsible for approximately eighty percent of humanity's questionable financial decisions. I nodded to myself.

"Perfect." I rubbed my hands together.

"Let's skip the bargaining phase and head straight into reckless consumer behavior." After all, I finally had enough money to buy my first real piece of equipment. That sentence alone felt surreal. Not long ago, my entire financial portfolio consisted of 0 gold coin and unearned optimism. Now? I actually had options. Dangerous. Very dangerous. Because having money activated a primitive instinct buried deep within the human psyche. The desire to immediately spend it. Preferably on something cool.

I focused on the marketplace search function.

"Alright." I inhaled slowly.

"Time to upgrade." My thoughts drifted toward the weapon currently resting in my inventory. The revolver that had carried me through my early fights. Reliable. Familiar. But also increasingly outdated. Like using a flip phone in an era of smartphones. It still worked. Technically. But the universe was clearly suggesting it was time to move on. I opened the search menu.

"Let's see what Tier One has to offer." A grin slowly spread across my face.

"My revolver has served faithfully." I paused.

"Which is exactly why it deserves retirement before it starts filing complaints with management." I looked at the glowing marketplace interface.

"Let's find ourselves a Tier One revolver."

"Because my trigger finger has standards now." And apparently, those standards cost money. The marketplace interface immediately responded to my search request. Fresh lines of glowing blue text materialized across the translucent screen. The system clearly took shopping very seriously. Honestly, it was more organized than most websites back on Earth. Which was mildly embarrassing for Earth. The floating display shifted. A new information panel unfolded before me. [Each Gear may possess up to three individual stats.] [You may filter results based on the number of desired stats.] [One-stat equipment possesses the highest starting value, commonly reaching 10 points in a single attribute.] [Three-stat equipment commonly follows a 4/3/3 distribution.] [Three-stat equipment is recommended for long-term progression due to Refinement bonuses affecting all existing stats.] [Additional stats provide greater overall gains through repeated Refinement.] I stared at the explanation. Then read it again.

Then my inner loot goblin immediately began doing math. Or at least attempting to. The results were questionable.

"Okay." I rubbed my chin thoughtfully.

"So basically..." I pointed at the screen.

"One-stat gear is the sprinter." Then I pointed again.

"And three-stat gear is the marathon runner." The interface remained silent. As expected. Systems never appreciated my efforts. I continued anyway.

"If I buy a weapon with one giant stat, it'll hit harder right now." I nodded.

"Which is tempting." Very tempting. Monkey brain liked large numbers. Large numbers activated happy chemicals. Happy chemicals made terrible financial decisions seem reasonable. But the refinement explanation made sense. The more I thought about it, the more obvious the answer became. Future Arthur would probably appreciate Present Arthur not making the intelligence equivalent of buying a sports car with square wheels.

"Yeah, we're going long term." I pointed confidently at the menu.

"Show me the three-stat options." I leaned slightly closer to the floating interface.

"Intelligence." Tap.

"Strength." Tap.

"Agility." Tap. There. Beautiful. My holy trinity of not getting murdered. Intelligence because blowing things up remained an important life skill. Strength because carrying a gun should not feel like participating in a weightlifting competition. Agility because my current survival strategy mostly revolved around not being where the attack landed. A strategy that worked significantly better when one's legs actually cooperated. The selected filters glowed briefly. Then another prompt appeared.

[Please select your desired bonus effect.] I blinked.

"Oh." Now we were getting to the fun part. Special effects. The magical section of every RPG where common sense quietly packed its bags and left the building. I immediately began imagining possibilities. Explosions. Lightning. Fire. More explosions. Explosions that created smaller explosions. Explosions that exploded emotionally. I crossed my arms.

"Let's not overcomplicate this." I pointed at the screen.

"I shoot things." A simple fact. A beautiful fact. A fact that had solved many of my recent problems.

"So let's focus on making the things I shoot suffer a little more." I nodded decisively.

"Something that boosts damage." I paused.

"Preferably the kind of damage that makes monsters reconsider their career choices." The marketplace processed my request. A soft pulse of blue light rippled across the interface. Then another question appeared. [Please specify your budget range.] And just like that, reality arrived with a baseball bat. My dreams of legendary weapons immediately collided with my actual wallet. Tragic. A timeless story. I glanced at my gold total. Five hundred and five. The number still looked beautiful.

But not beautiful enough to survive reckless spending. I narrowed my eyes. This was an important moment. The difference between shopping responsibly and becoming one of those adventurers who somehow owned a legendary sword but couldn't afford dinner. I pointed at the interface.

"Let's keep this realistic." I wasn't here to browse mythical artifacts forged by ancient gods. I was here to buy my first proper weapon without financially detonating myself.

"Around five hundred gold should be fine." I nodded.

"That's my comfort zone." Then I immediately corrected myself.

"Actually, comfort zone is the wrong phrase." I pointed at my gold counter.

"Five hundred gold is more like standing near the edge of a cliff while convincing yourself you're perfectly safe." Still. If I was going to spend money, this was exactly what I'd been saving it for. My first real Tier One weapon. A revolver that wouldn't immediately feel outdated the moment something stronger than an angry goblin showed up.