Faux Funeral (1)

Adrian walked through the worn-down streets of the slums for the shop the old man had pointed him towards to sell the Ratling tails and fangs he had acquired. 

"This looks to be the place..." Adrian thought while scratching his cheeks. 

The shop he stumbled upon appeared to have seen better days. Broken roof and dirt-stained glasses that not even light could penetrate. It looked like any other shop the slums had to offer. 

Still, Adrian looked other ways to see if there were other shops around. But those he found were all destroyed. It didn't take a second for him to realise someone had intentionally taken down all the shops and the likely culprit was the owner of the shop left standing. 

Regardless, since he was out of options, Adrian pulled the hoodie low to conceal his deformed face and stepped inside. His eyes fell on the guy standing behind a wooden counter as he did. 

The shop owner, a grizzled man with a hunched back and greying beard, was in the middle of a heated argument with a customer. Judging from the conversation, it appeared to be a dispute regarding the selling price of materials. 

Since the argument had nothing to do with him, Adrian decided to linger near the entrance, focusing on the unfolding dispute before him.

The seller, most likely a plunderer, was eager to sell some slime cores. However, the price the owner had offered was too low for the seller's liking. 

"You're just doing whatever the hell you want because everyone else shut down, huh?" the seller barked. "one lumen shard for three slime cores? Are you out of your damn mind!"

"Woah, woah, woah," the owner smiled, but it wasn't one of good gestures. "You should watch your tone, boy. Or else, the Ravens might come flocking for your flesh."

"Hah! You're the one who should be worried, you old fuck!"

The owner, unimpressed, burst into laughter before grabbing the man's collar, his voice low and threatening. 

"Listen here, pal. You can take your business elsewhere if you don't like my prices. Don't cause trouble in my shop and get lost."

Reluctantly, the disgruntled man agreed, delivering the goods and taking the money he was owed. However, that wasn't all the man did as he left the shop with a parting gift.. a mouthful of spit that fell on the owner's shoulder. 

"This son of a bitch-"

The owner infuriated, reached for a broom, ready to give chase. However, his demeanour changed abruptly when he noticed Adrian lingering around the entrance.

"Welcome, welcome!" the owner chimed, rubbing his hands together, eager to do more business. "What can I do for you?"

Adrian sighed inwardly, knowing that dealing with this shopkeeper wouldn't be easy. The guy would probably dismiss the loot as low standard or some other bullshit to lower the asking price of the goods. 

'Let's see what deal the guy has to offer,' Adrian thought. 'if he tries to scam me, then being the kind stranger I am, I'll teach him a lesson in the art of scamming.'

With that, Adrian presented the loot – Ratling tails and fangs, all in pristine condition. The owner, however, scrunched up his face in disgust as his scrutinising gaze stared at the loot Adrian offered him. 

"Look at this, a scratch here, a dent there on the fang," the owner muttered, examining the items. "Alchemists are a pain in the but who want everything in great condition. Unfortunately, that means I can't offer you much for these, you know."

Adrian smiled, knowing the owner was a piece of shit. But more than that, he was happy because he saw through the owner's scheme. He knew the man was about to use some excuse to lower the price and then turn around and sell the perfect loot at a higher profit.

While the owner kept analysing the loot, waiting for Adrian's reply, the latter used his [Illusionary Eyes] skill. Suddenly, the shopkeeper's eyes blurred, and when they turned to normal, he was looking at exotic loot valued well over seven Radian shards. 

"I understand your concerns," Adrian declared, maintaining a stoic expression as he slowly gathered the loot. "I won't bother you anymore."

"N-No! Please wait!" The owner exclaimed, hastily putting his arms on the basic loot materials. "Something must have gone into my eyes! I mistook the loot for something else!"

"Oh, is that so? Uh... so what can you offer now?"

"How about two radian shards?"

"Three, and you got yourself a deal."

Under the illusion's influence, the owner hesitated before reluctantly agreeing. "Fine, fine. Three Radian shards it is."

Adrian nodded, looking pleased with the result. He quickly pocketed the shards and made his exit as the owner, still under the illusion, rubbed his hands together, thinking he hit some lottery. 

As Adrian left, his attention was snagged by a conversation nearby. Two slum-dwellers were discussing someone's funeral. Adrian found it odd, so he stood there, hearing more about it. 

"Yeah, I heard they're having some hero's funeral tomorrow. What a waste of time," one remarked, dismissing the news. "They expect us to mourn a fucker's death. As if those heroes did any good for us in the slums."

"Yeah, true," The other shrugged, tossing a crumpled sheet of paper aside. "All they do is cause trouble for us and then disappear like they don't know shit. The more heroes that die, the better off the rest of us will be. Good riddance."

Adrian knew the slums hated the heroes, but he didn't expect the resentment to be on this scale. It felt weird to see things from the other side.

'Not like I'm a hero anymore,' Adrian smiled wanly and was about to leave when his eyes fell on the crumbled paper. Curiosity piqued, he picked it up, and as he unfolded it, his eyes widened in surprise. 

His heart skipped a beat when he saw his face on the pamphlet. The announcement detailed the time and location of his supposed funeral.

"A funeral for me?" Adrian rolled his eyes. "Well, that was quick of them. Hmm... it would be rude of me not to attend my own funeral. I guess I'll have to postpone my plans for tomorrow."