By noon, we were already starving. There is something about the ocean air and the physical exertion of playing in the water that makes you reach the limits of your hunger much faster than usual. One of the few benefits of this trip was the fact that we didn't have to spend a single second preparing a meal ourselves or waiting for a fire to catch; since we were on a vacation of sorts, I had already resolved that we would be eating exclusively at restaurants and food stalls until the trip was over.
We walked along the same stretch of shore we had traversed earlier and eventually found a decent-looking restaurant nestled between two larger inns. The town of Baymur looked significantly livelier than it had when we first arrived. When we’d teleported in at dawn, the streets had been nearly deserted, but now the local economy was in full swing. The residents must have been sleeping off the previous day's labor when we first arrived.
When we stepped through the entrance of the restaurant, a staff member greeted us warmly and directed us to an empty table near a window. Around half of the tables were already occupied by a mix of travelers and local workers, which served as a good indicator that the food here was of a fairly high standard.
I scanned the menu and asked the waiter about their daily specialties. I eventually chose a plateful of small, fried service fish that bore a striking resemblance to anchovies, paired with a sharp lemon soda and a thick piece of crusty bread. This was the first time the girls had ever had the chance to eat fish. Given their inexperience with seafood, I was cautious; I ordered a deboned fish for them that was similar to horse mackerel, served alongside a vibrant salad packed with crisp purple cabbage.
They looked a bit unsure at first, staring at the strange, silver-skinned meat with a mix of curiosity and hesitation. However, since it was me who had ordered for them, they didn't voice any suspicion and waited patiently for the food to arrive. When the plates were finally set before them and they took their first bites, their expressions shifted instantly to a mixture of surprise and pure joy. They are wolfkin, and their love for meat is visceral; discovering a completely new type of savory flavor was clearly a highlight for them.
After we finished the main course and had scraped the plates clean, I ordered a round of cakes and tea to settle our stomachs. While they enjoyed their sweets, I asked them for their honest opinion on the seafood. They both answered enthusiastically, telling me they loved it even more than they expected. Seeing how much they enjoyed it, I decided right then that I would feed them fish again for dinner; since we lived in the landlocked Inner City of Yargan, we wouldn't have the opportunity to eat fresh catches like this anytime soon once we returned.
Once we had finished every crumb and drop put in front of us, we left the restaurant. I paid the bill—18 silver coins. Despite this being a prime tourist spot near the water, I found the price to be quite acceptable for the quality of the meal and the service we received.
It was time for some proper sightseeing. We headed back toward the shore to start our tour, but despite our initial expectations of finding exotic boardwalks or bustling markets, there wasn't actually that much to see in the immediate vicinity. Most of the buildings were simply inns, small fishing huts, or plain residential homes for the locals.
Realizing that the shore was mostly functional rather than decorative, we turned back toward the inn we had rented. On the way, we located the public bathhouse the innkeeper had mentioned earlier. It was a wide, sturdy, single-story building that smelled faintly of sulfur and clean wood. We went inside and approached a man waiting at the entrance counter. Fortunately, he confirmed that the baths were currently available for use.
Unfortunately, he also echoed what the innkeeper had told us: the heaters wouldn't be fully operational until closer to evening, so there was no hot water yet. He explained that this was the primary reason the facility wasn't crowded at noon. He then asked us to choose which area we wanted to use.
The bathhouse offered separate common areas for men and women, but the attendant also mentioned the availability of private areas designed for families or those who preferred to avoid the public gaze. I naturally opted for the private room. The more opportunities I have to see the girls in their swimsuits, the more pleased I am. I knew there wouldn't be a second trip like this for quite some time, so I intended to enjoy the view while I could.
The water in the private bath wasn't hot, but it wasn't cold enough to be uncomfortable either. We moved slowly, washing the layers of salt and sand from our bodies. I made sure we also rinsed and dried our clothes as much as possible to clear away the salt residue before we put them back on. Salt-crusted fabric is a recipe for a miserable afternoon of chafing.
When we were finished, I paid 5 silver coins to the bathhouse owner. If we had chosen the common areas, the cost would have been only 1 silver coin per person, and the price would only double once the hot water was available. Even so, there wasn't a huge difference between the luxury of the private room and the public areas, so I felt it was a sensible choice for our specific group.
Now that we were no longer covered in a layer of ocean salt, we headed back into the heart of town. I had taken a clean t-shirt from our room at the inn so I wouldn't have to wander the streets half-naked, while the girls already had their light tunics to cover their bodies.
We moved toward the center of the town. There wasn't much in the way of grand monuments, but we did find several workshops belonging to local artisans. They were working on raw jewelry, cutting and polishing amethysts and pearls. We saw many fancy decorative items that incorporated sea products like iridescent seashells and oysters to create a marine aesthetic, often accented with glittering gems.
Most of these workshops were clustered toward the entrance of the town, positioned to catch travelers as they arrived. Under the girls’ enthusiastic eyes—they seemed mesmerized by anything that glittered—I decided to enter one of the larger shops. I wanted to see if I could find a profitable business opportunity hidden among the trinkets.
The interior of the shop was designed to look like an antique store. The wooden walls were dark and weathered, and the design was intentionally shabby, giving the place an air of ancient mystery. I wouldn't have been surprised if a witch-like figure had emerged from the shadows to try and sell me a cursed pearl.
“... Oh, welcome to my humble shop, dear customers. How may I help you today?”
As we were browsing the shelves, a man’s voice called out from behind a long, heavy table situated near the entrance. I turned to face him, offering a faint, polite smile.
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“Oh, you see, we were just looking around to see what kind of goods you specialize in,” I answered.
“I see. Please, feel free to stroll as much as you like,” he said, gesturing to the rows of displays. “Is there anything that has caught your eye so far?”
“Hmm… most of the items you’re selling seem to be raw materials acquired from the ocean, or products crafted from those materials,” I observed. I paused, looking toward the window. “I noticed there isn't a proper dock nearby. How exactly do you manage to sell your inventory?”
I asked out of genuine curiosity. Depending on his answer, I was prepared to propose a deal.
“The town simply isn't large enough to justify the construction of a full dock,” the merchant explained. “And even if we had one, we can’t produce enough to fill a cargo ship. Our main exports are luxury materials and the occasional work of art from our local artisans. These items bring in a fortune, of course, but our volume is low. We typically sell to nearby cities through small caravans, or wait for the occasional visiting merchant to buy in bulk.”
Woya and Wyn were only half-listening to the logistics, their heads spinning as they stared at the sparkling jewelry and polished shells surrounding them.
“I understand,” I said, nodding. “I also heard that Baymur used to be known for glass production. Is the real reason that stopped truly just a lack of beach sand?”
“Yes and no,” the man replied, a hint of sadness entering his voice. “The raw materials were already becoming scarce, but the older artisans were holding onto the industry out of a pure love for their home. But once the younger generation took over, they saw the scarcity and decided to leave for better opportunities.”
He sighed, leaning against his table. “Nearby coastal cities have a massive demand for artisans. They can provide all the materials needed and have the established trade routes to sell overseas or to the great caravans of the Union. I can’t blame the young ones for wanting to go where they can actually practice their craft.”
“... Hey, what was your name again?” I asked, deciding it was time to move the conversation forward. “My name is Han, by the way.”
I already knew his name and his capabilities, as I had used my ‘Identify’ skill the moment we entered the shop.
***
Merkan
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Status: Normal
Equipment:
Steel Dagger
Job: Merchant Lvl 35
***
He looked a bit dumbfounded by my sudden question, but he clearly realized there was a purpose behind it.
“... Huh? Oh, it’s Merkan,” he answered. “Is there a specific reason you’re asking so many questions, Sir Han?”
“You see, I am here on vacation, but I am also heavily involved in trade,” I proposed, my face turning serious. “I’m looking to form a partnership with someone who knows this area well and seems trustworthy. You fit the bill.”
Merkan looked at me with a healthy amount of suspicion. “Oh? What kind of partnership are you suggesting?”
“I can’t visit Baymur as often as I’d like,” I explained. “So, I want you to act as my agent. I want you to purchase local goods and materials for me in advance. When I visit occasionally, I will take those goods with me for resale elsewhere. Since you already know the artisans and the other merchants, you can secure much better prices than a stranger like me ever could. That allows me to buy cheaper, and allows you to earn a steady income from commissions.”
Merkan didn't respond immediately. He rubbed his chin, deep in thought, weighing the risks. “And how would the payment be handled?” he asked eventually. He was clearly worried about being left with unsellable inventory or being cheated.
“I understand that trust has to be built,” I said. “So let's do it this way: you will collect the raw materials and finished products from the artisans you know—items specific to this coastal region. I will provide the capital beforehand. You will continue buying until the funds are exhausted or until my next visit.”
I explained that as we worked together, our mutual trust would grow. Eventually, he could use his own judgment to buy more than we originally agreed upon, trusting that I would cover the costs upon my arrival.
“But I need some concrete numbers first,” I pressed. “How many unique items are produced here that are hard to find elsewhere? What kind of initial payment would you require to start? How long would it take you to spend that capital, and what kind of discounts can you secure from the locals?”
“Hmm… let’s see,” Merkan said, his merchant brain clearly calculating. “There are many raw and processed materials available, like pearls and specific seashells. The lustrous ones are the priciest. There are about ten different raw materials we can source. As for the artisans, they produce about four unique pieces of art a week.”
He paused, thinking it over. “If I exclude the items that are too fragile or heavy to transport easily, the selection narrows. For the budget, I’d say we would need about 100 gold coins for raw materials per month, and another 300 to 400 gold for the finished artisan products. Based on my relationships, I’m confident I can secure a 10 to 20 percent discount on most of it.”
“... Okay. Then take this,” I said. I reached into my inventory and pulled out 5 Hazaroth platinum coins, placing them firmly on the table between us. “Make sure the variety is as high as possible. I don’t want too much of one single type of good. I’ll be back in two weeks or so to collect the first batch.”
The amount was staggering—it represented more than half of my current liquid fortune. However, I knew I could earn it back quickly, especially with the "cheat" of my teleportation ability. My goal was to establish a monopoly on the trade out of this town; I wanted the locals to know they could always sell their goods to us for a fair price.
“Whoa! Are you certain?” Merkan gasped, staring at the platinum coins. “I could take this and disappear, you know,” he added with a nervous, joking laugh.
“I am very serious about this business, Mr. Merkan,” I said, my voice steady and firm. “You can trust that if we make this work, the entire trade business of Baymur will be in our hands. There will be no need for you to run.”
I said it to both reassure him and to serve as a subtle warning. I had seen his shop and his level; I knew he wasn't desperate enough to throw away a long-term gold mine for a single payout.
“... Okay. I’m in,” he agreed. He paused. “But we haven't discussed my commission yet.”
“I was so excited that I almost forgot,” I laughed. “Let’s set your commission at 70% of whatever discount you manage to secure. How does that sound?”
Merkan froze, doing the math in his head. “70% of the discount? Wait… that means if I buy 550 gold coins' worth of items for 500 gold, 35 of those gold coins belong to me? That’s... that’s over 30 gold coins a month. A gold coin a day just for making purchases?”
He was visibly shocked. Since he would be using my money rather than his own, he was assuming zero risk while receiving a massive payday.
“Exactly,” I said. “You deserve it because you’re providing the network, the information, and the labor of collection. I just want you to be as honest as possible so we can maintain a long-term relationship.”
Seeing my sincerity and the sheer profit potential, he happily agreed to the deal. We spoke for a few more minutes about the specific types of pearls I was interested in, and then the girls and I left the shop, the foundation of a new business venture firmly in place.
[Edited]
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