Chapter 30: The Swordsmith
"Boss, how much for this sword?"
In the weapon shop, Vivian pointed to a katana with a red scabbard and asked the shopkeeper.
He had just browsed the entire shop and found this sword to be the only decent one; the rest were hardly different from the standard military swords issued at the base.
"Five million Berries."
The shopkeeper, sitting behind the counter, replied listlessly.
"Five million Berries…" Tashigi, who was following Vivian, adjusted her glasses and took the sword from his hand, examining it carefully.
"Although this sword is finely crafted, the materials used are quite ordinary. It doesn't even qualify as one of the Fifty Skillful Grade Swords. Five million is way too expensive."
This was clearly a rip-off.
For some reason, Tashigi's gaze at the shopkeeper carried a hint of anger.
Hearing this, the shopkeeper stood up, ready to argue, but upon seeing the Navy uniforms on Vivian and the others, he immediately became respectful.
"Oh, Navy officers, please have a seat. I'll get you some drinks…"
"No need. What's the real price of this sword?" Vivian interrupted him.
"It's actually two million Berries," the shopkeeper said with a fawning smile.
"Two million, that's about right," Tashigi nodded in satisfaction.
Just as Vivian was about to take out his money bag to pay, a boy about 1.7 meters tall, dressed in rags and carrying a bamboo basket on his back, rushed in and bumped into Vivian's chest, falling to the ground.
Clatter—!
Over twenty red-sheathed katanas spilled out of the bamboo basket, covering the floor.
Vivian looked at the red katana in his hand, then at the ones on the floor.
Vivian: ???
"What does this mean?"
Vivian was dumbfounded.
Likewise, Tashigi, standing beside him, was too shocked to speak.
She picked up two swords from the floor and examined them closely, finding them identical to the one in Vivian's hand. Her mouth opened wide in disbelief.
"How is this possible?!"
Over twenty "Skillful Grade Swords," all identical in appearance and feel.
"Skillful Grade Swords… can be mass-produced?"
Tashigi was in a state of shock, her common sense shattered.
Vivian turned his gaze to the boy.
"Did you make these swords?"
"Who are you?" The boy rubbed his forehead in pain, feeling like he had hit a rock.
"Me? I'm Alfred Vivian, a Navy officer."
"Navy?"
The boy sneered at the word, "What's so great about the Navy? They do nothing all day and take our taxes as their salary. They're no different from pirates."
BBQ Island was under the jurisdiction of a World Government member nation, which paid a hefty "Heavenly Tribute" to the Celestial Dragons every year.
Over time, the common people naturally harbored resentment towards the World Government and the Navy.
"Lamore!" The shopkeeper gave the boy a warning look.
Vivian stepped forward, "You haven't answered me. Did you make these swords?"
"So what if I did?"
Lamore put his hands on his hips, looking defiantly at Vivian.
Making swords wasn't illegal. He didn't believe these Navy officers would dare do anything to him in broad daylight.
Vivian continued, "Take me to your home to watch you forge swords. I'll give you 500,000 Berries as an observation fee. How about it?"
The boy: ???
…
Only a fool would refuse easy money.
Just letting someone watch him forge swords and earning 500,000 Berries for it was an offer Lamore couldn't refuse.
So, he led Vivian through the alleys of the small town, winding around until they reached the entrance of a dilapidated factory.
"We're here." Lamore said, pushing the door open. A strong smell of rust immediately wafted out.
Vivian covered his nose and mouth, following Lamore inside. The scene that greeted him made him frown.
The factory was almost empty.
There was a forge, piles of various metal materials stacked against the wall, and aside from two beds and a square table, there was nothing else.
Looking at the old man lying on one of the beds, seemingly ill, Vivian asked Lamore, "Are you poor? Those swords can sell for 2 million Berries each. You should be quite wealthy, right?"
"It's because of the taxes," Lamore said angrily.
According to the member nation regulations, he had to pay 50% of his income as taxes every year. Moreover, because he couldn't afford to buy a shop, he had to place his forged swords in the weapon shop for the owner to sell, who then took 30% of the profit.
After deducting the cost of materials, he barely earned 500,000 Berries per sword.
"May I ask, who is this old man?" Vivian asked.
"The local gang forced my grandfather to forge swords for them. After he finished, they refused to pay and cut off one of his legs when he demanded payment.
"Not only that, they forced him to take poison. If I don't pay them 2 million Berries every month, my grandfather will die from the poison."
"With the money for his treatment and the extortion…"
Lamore said calmly, "Now you know why I'm broke, right?"
Silence.
After hearing the story, Vivian felt like smoking, but a glance at the old man on the bed made him dismiss the idea.
"Didn't you report this to the Navy?" he asked.
Lamore couldn't help but laugh at this.
"Of course I did."
"Whenever Navy officers passed by, I would tell them about my situation. But they either ignored me or made empty promises that led nowhere."
One time, after reporting his situation, he was grabbed that night, dragged into an alley, and beaten half to death. That's when he realized how naive he had been.
The Navy was no different from pirates!
That's why he had said what he did in the weapon shop earlier.
"Enough talk. You wanted to watch me forge swords, right? Put the money on the table. Or don't, as long as you don't disturb me."
Lamore sighed and turned towards the forge.
Meanwhile…
Option 1: Heal the old man's injuries. (Reward: Skillful Grade Sword - "Blood Red Blade")
Option 2: Heal the old man's injuries, get the antidote from the local gang, and seek justice. (Reward: Great Grade Sword - "Blood Demon")
Option 3: Do nothing, watch the forging, and leave. (Reward: +20 Forging Experience Points)
A side quest?
Looking at the options before him, Vivian hesitated once again.