Dungeon Item Shop: Volume 2: The original litRPG, item-shop light-novel! (Dungeon Item Shop - The original item-Shop litRPG!), page 17
"I fucking told you!" snaps Jubilee. Fresh winces as they twist their heel, squishing her toes through her boot a little more. She laughs a nervous laugh.
"If you like it, please come and buy some more!" says Fresh. The sleepy man looks at her and sets down the remaining half of the candy onto the counter, walking away without saying a word. "Ah-!"
He leaves.
"What was that…?" asks Fresh, feeling somewhat offended now as she looks at the half-eaten candy laying on the counter.
"Fucking deadbeat," says Jubilee, lifting their foot off of hers and shaking their head as they turn around towards her. Fresh gets ready for another lecture as she feels Jubilee’s glare reach her. But it never comes, Jubilee just lets out a defeated sigh and shakes their head. Their tight posture loosens. Perhaps they are unwilling to scold her again a second time, or maybe they’re just wondering if there’s even a point to using the energy. "Clean that up," says Jubilee dryly, pointing to the half-eaten candy.
"But Jubilee…" starts Fresh.
"Shut up! You said he could have it, you clean it up!" Jubilee crosses their arms. "And no. You can’t have my gloves," barks Jubilee up at her.
Chapter 136: Sleepover
Fresh shuts the door as the last two people walk out. Some lovey-dovey couple who can’t stop feeding each other with the candies from the two bags that they bought, as they walk together, heading towards the right and away from the dungeon.
"Disgusting," says Jubilee, shaking their head as the door slams shut.
Basil lets out a long sigh, pressing her back against the wall and sliding down to the ground. "I forgot how exhausting store-work was."
Fresh turns around, looking back at all of them. Only Shamrock doesn’t seem to be fazed by the long-work day and the lack of sleep that all of them are suffering under. In truth, she’s feeling it too, but she resolves herself not to show it. "Good job, everyone!" says Fresh excitedly as she heads back towards the counter. "We did really great today!"
"Well. Good enough," says Jubilee, rattling the drawer full of coins. "But considering we had zero marketing, I’d say we did alright."
Basil nods, not opening her eyes. "There’s a lot of foot-traffic here. I think the light from the crystals drew a lot of them inside too."
"Like moths to a flame," says Jubilee as a heap of coins rattle against the counter. "Let’s finish up and go to bed. I’m tired as shit."
"It was your idea to open today with no warning," remarks Basil. "We could have just done tomorrow. What’s the rush?"
"It’s also my idea to pay you today, but I might think about it again if you don’t get up," says Jubilee to the priestess, who seems far less intimidated by them now than they did during her initial employment. Basil goes out of her way to open her eyes just to roll them at Jubilee, before closing them again and leaning back against the wall that she is slumped down against.
"If you roll your eyes at me again, I’ll pop them out of your head," says Jubilee.
Fresh laughs. "Come on guys, let’s not fight." She leans over the counter. "Basil? Shamrock? Will you help me restock the shelves, please?" She thinks for a second. "I also think we need to sweep, I heard somebody drop one of the wands. I think it broke." Basil sighs a tired sigh, grabbing hold of Shamrock’s armor to pull herself back up to her feet.
"Of course," smiles the priestess at her and Shamrock just nods a silent nod, going upstairs to get a broom that he comes down with a moment later. As Fresh restocks the shelf with glass-wands, she watches out of the corner of her eye as the giant squeezes in-between the shelves next to her with the broom in his hands, which seemed almost comically tiny in comparison to the rest of him.
It was a long day today, but Fresh is happy with the results, feeling an oddly familiar feeling as she runs through the shelves, lining everything up neatly as she restocks the items that Shamrock carries down from the pantry for her. Though, even her tired eyes don’t fail to notice that every time he comes down from the pantry, he seems to have a new smear of colorful crumbs on the slits of his helmet. She smiles a smug smile.
Looking past the man, to see if Jubilee is still busy, she gestures for him to come closer as if about to whisper something to him. As he lowers himself forward, she lifts her hand and wipes the candy smears off of the helmet, hiding the evidence before Jubilee can see it and scold him. She places a finger to her lips as she winks, signaling that it’ll be their secret.
With the three of them doing the work, it’s a quick job to finish. Especially since they don’t have that many different items yet. The worst part of it, as far as she sees it, is that she’ll have to get up early to make some extra wares, since they didn’t have enough to restock entirely. But that’s fine. She wants to make a real breakfast for them all tomorrow anyway to celebrate.
About an hour later, the four of them meet at the counter, as Jubilee slides the ledger around and then pushes three heaps of coins their way.
"What’s this?" asks Basil, looking at the large pile of money, that is at least four times the size of anything she had gotten before, rather suspiciously. Her tired eyes are wide and she leans in closely to look, as if suspecting that the coins weren’t real. But she never touches them.
"It’s your money, dumb-ass," says Jubilee, shaking their head as they tap the ledger.
Fresh looks at the spot that Jubilee is pointing at.
Wares Sold Sold for Total
Candy
-Orange 14 5 70
-Green 3 5 15
-Purple 22 5 110
-Red 6 5 30
-Blue 26 5 130
Candy Sachets 16 20 320
Sweet Tea
-Fruit 19 9 171
-Herbal 12 9 108
Weapons
Glass-Daggers (High) 2 99 198
Glass-Swords (High) 1 199 199
Glass-Wands (High) 9 99 891
Glass-Staves (High) 3 199 597
Misc.
Stuffed Sheep 6 39 234
Purchases Bought Bought for Total spent
Mushroom-Caps
-Orange 12 -6 -72
-Blue 11 -7 -77
-Green 5 -9 -45
-Purple 4 -11 -44
-Red 2 -12 -24
Kobold Fluff
-Small 9 -9 -81
-Medium 13 -10 -130
-Large 17 -11 -187
Ice-Drake Scales
-Small 10 -11 -110
-Medium 6 -12 -72
Other
Iron-ore 4 -20 -80
Magic Crystals
-Small 4 -20 -80
Sum (Gross) Taxes Upkeep Savings Total Deductions Sum (Net)
2071 10% 3% 5% 373 1698
207 62 104
Earned Today
Fresh 424 Obols
Jubilee 424 Obols
Basil 424 Obols
Shamrock 424 Obols
"This much?" asks Basil, lifting a finger to touch the coins.
Jubilee waves her off, sliding the ledger her way across the counter as they turn to be the first one to head upstairs. "Yeah. It’s our net profit split four ways."
"Split?" asks Basil, looking around at them all.
Jubilee stops, already most of the way up the stairs so that only the bottom of their legs are visible from where they stand. "We’re a party, aren’t we?" they say, before they vanish away up the stairs.
Fresh smiles, lifting her hands to pat both Basil and Shamrock on the back. "Make sure to save some of it for a rainy day, guys!" In truth, she didn’t even think about the fact that Basil had ‘only’ had a two percent commission this entire time in the old store, let alone that Shamrock would probably be earning the same amount, while she and Jubilee made a killing. It would still have been a high wage, especially for a priestess. But Jubilee is right, they’re a party now. Basil and Shamrock aren’t employees, they’re her friends. The girl yawns, heading down to the basement to wash up before going to bed. She’s all dusty and sticky from working all day. The last thing she hears is Basil stammering as she talks to Shamrock, the coins clinking noisily in her hands.
The washroom is quaint. Smaller than the one in Jubilee’s old house, but far less rickety and with fewer cob-webs. Everything is made out of stone and in the back, through a wooden sliding door, there is a constant stream of hot running water that flows through a long, horizontal stone basin, dug out of the rock. It’s almost like a tiny river, like the one outside. But this one is hot. There are two thin-meshed, metal grates on either side, where the water runs in and out from the walls. Hot-water isn’t exactly rare in the cities, as apparently every adventurers’ guild at least has it. But to have it at home apparently is a luxury as far as she has seen. At least in the north. Then again, they did live in the poor part of town. She’ll have to ask Basil if the church had any. Here in the west, it’s more common, as the hot water seems to come from the core of the mountain itself.
Closing the door behind herself, she throws off her robe, about to toss it haphazardly to the ground. But then she stops herself, catching it on the tips of her fingers just as it begins to slide out of her grasp. Shaking her head, Fresh grabs the robe and lovingly folds it together, placing it to the side instead. It was a present after all, one that was made with a lot of effort and emotion. That should be respected, even if she is tired.
Fresh looks down at the reflection in the water, watching as it lets out a long, exhausted yawn, as it gazes back up at her with sleepy eyes. Lowering her hand, she finishes getting undressed and lets herself sink into the water, submerging herself down beneath its warm surface for a while, as she holds her breath and closes her eyes, holding her knees in against her chest, as she just listens to the quiet rush of the stream bubbling past her suspended form. It’s so relaxing. She’s so tired.
She just lets herself float there, beneath the water. The basin isn’t particularly deep, but it’s deep enough that she can stay underwater if she pulls her legs in. So she does exactly that for as long as she can comfortably manage, just feeling the warm water run over her body, feeling the gentle current running through her hair like a warm hand tousling it.
She likes being in the water.
The next day comes soon enough, though Fresh doesn’t wake up as early as she had hoped. Her body, feeling unusually heavy, presses into the bed. The desire in her mind to get up early and to be productive is overpowered by the softness of her blanket and the cushion of the mushy pillow she is squeezing. Opening her eyes for a fraction of a second, she sees Basil laying across from her over in her bed. Shamrock stands on the balcony, watching the morning light grow in the distance.
Fresh closes her eyes again. But she doesn’t manage to fall back to sleep, despite wanting to, as the gnawing guilt that wells in her core becomes too much to ignore, as it creeps and crawls its way past her heart and reaches her waking mind. She sighs, her hand slapping against her smushed face as she rubs her tired eyes and forces herself to get up. She has to, even if she’s tired. There’s a lot of work to do before they open again and first things first, she wants to make breakfast for everyone.
As she sits upright, she wraps the blanket, drooped over her shoulders, around her body as she wishes, now more than ever, that there was coffee here in this world. She would love one right now, even if she never really liked it to begin with.
Fresh blinks, somewhat confused and then presses her eyes tightly closed to squeeze the new tears out that came together with the yawn, before she looks around the room. Coffee?
"What’s coffee?" she mutters, setting her feet down onto the stones, as she gets ready for the day. It must’ve just been some left-over fragment of a dream she had had during the long night. Some shard of a memory still left over, from the deep abyss of sleep that she has only barely managed to pull herself out of. It isn’t important.
Fresh yawns again, only covering her mouth to quiet herself after she notices Basil stirring.
What’s important is everything right here and right now.
Slipping on her robe, she steps over to the kitchen, waving a quiet wave to Shamrock who turns around to look at her, as she starts fumbling around with some pots and pans.
A sound comes from behind her and at first she thinks it’s from Jubilee’s room. But then she sees that Jubilee is sitting in the pantry with the door open, as they hand-snip some bright blue fabric with a pair of large, metal scissors.
Fresh looks down at her friend, sitting on the floor just behind the door, a dried yellow flower stuck in the fabric of their hood, just behind their ear and she waves with a smile. Jubilee nods to her and silently returns to their work, leaving Fresh to do the same.
She takes a deep, satisfied breath of cold, morning air, as she stares at the kitchenette before herself. What an interesting dream she had. "Caw…fee…" she mutters to herself under her breath, as her fingers tap against the counter. She thinks that it’s a novel idea. Some kind of… stamina-potion? Or maybe a broth? Something quick, simple and hot to help start the mornings a little easier. Maybe… maybe something that just needed water? Any other steps would be too much work for a tired mind and would defeat the point.
She nods to herself, carefully stepping over Jubilee’s legs as she heads into the pantry, digging around for something that could light a spark in her eyes and give her the idea that she is looking for.
Chapter 137: Morning preperations
"There are less of them here than I remember," says Jubilee, joining in on the conversation that Fresh is having with Basil, who has awoken and now sits on the foot of her freshly-made bed. Apparently she always does that first thing after getting up and getting dressed. Fresh does her best not to look at her own still unmade bed. So that she doesn’t draw attention to it. "Fairies are fucked. I hate the nosy, little shits."
"There were more?" asks Fresh, looking at her friends as she stirs the pot. She realizes that they needed a table upstairs for all of them to sit together at.
"Yeah," says Jubilee. "Used to be that you couldn’t swat a fly here without accidentally spanking someone buzzing past your face," they explain, walking past them both and heading towards the balcony. "Guess they died off. Must be about that time of the decade."
"Huh?" Fresh taps the metal spoon against the pot, getting some of the residual gunk off of it. "They died off?"
Basil nods, rubbing her face as she is still a bit tired, by the looks of it. "Fairies don’t live long. About four years. Six if they get really old," says the priestess. "I think the oldest one ever almost got to eight, but he couldn’t fly or do much anymore in the end." Basil leans back, feeling a cool breeze wash over her from the balcony. "Though he was part of the last hero-party. So the church took care of him."
"Whaaat?" asks Fresh, thinking about the waitress at the adventurers’ guild. "That’s so sad, how come they die so fast?"
"It is what it is," says Jubilee, sounding oddly dry in their voice. "Some things just live longer than others. Fairies are fucked. Elves do a bit better than humans, but not much."
"Huh…" says Fresh, staring back down at the swirling mixture in the bubbling pot before herself.
"There will be a new generation soon, then," says Basil, getting up and rolling her shoulders out. "Fairies are born in waves, not one at a time like humans are," she explains, adding on at the end after seeing Fresh’s confused expression.
"Oh," answers Fresh, not sure what else to say as she lifts the pot off of the burner and then sets it down onto the side of the stove to cool off. She doesn’t really get how that whole fairy business works, but she doesn’t really feel like questioning the logistics of it right now. Looking down, she gazes at the reflection cast in the swirling, burnt, off-green liquid. Her eyes stare at its, as if waiting for the reflection to do something. But nothing happens.
Since the new drink is supposed to be energizing, it only made sense for her to use some green-mushroom powder. But that first batch of boiled mushroom powder had a very unappealing color, so she threw it out and tried again. This time, she browned the powder in a pan first, cooking out the moisture and then leaving it in a little longer, until it was on the edge of becoming a heap of burnt, crumbling dust.
Apparently, if left in the pan long enough, mushroom powder loses its color. The bright-green powder has now turned into a dark, woody brown that almost looks like a very soft, fine dirt. It smells like it too. At first, her first instinct was to add some orange mushroom powder, perhaps out of reflex. But the zingy zest didn’t feel right, so she instead tried her way through the different kinds of mushroom-caps.
Orange-caps are tangy and sour like juice. Green-caps are more crisp and fresh like a thick, wet, root vegetable. The red ones are very metallic and savory. Blue mushroom-caps taste sweet, like a dewy fruit and the purple variants taste like… purple.
Fresh had opted to mix a tiny pinch of the red and purple caps together, creating a mixture out of it that she had poured together with the burnt, green powder. Mixing it all together, she then added some boiling water, creating the concoction that she has before herself now.
Grabbing a cup, she pours a small amount of the mixture into it and swirls it around, letting it cool a little before she holds it to her nose. She isn’t sure what she expected apart from the smell of burnt dirt, but it smells exactly like that; a bit undefinable and vague. But she leans towards it being bitter and a little like the wet smell of the ground on a rainy summer’s day. After there had been a fire.
Closing her eyes, she takes a small sip. There is still a lot of grainy particulate in the mixture and it leaves a crumbly film on her lips as she presses the cup to her mouth. She wonders what she should call it? Assuming it wor-
Her eyes shoot open wide and she sets the glass down onto the counter with a loud ‘clack’, hitting her chest with her other hand as she lets out a raspy, desperate cough, strained tears forming in her eyes. "-Iech!" splutters Fresh.
