Scam

It was a new day in the city of Clearmount. Marcus had found an inn the night before at a rate of six coppers a night. It wasn't the cheapest, but it wasn't too bad of a price. Marcus got up, got dressed and went downstairs to the dining area to have some breakfast. He had all his gear on him, which just consisted of his armor and clothes he was wearing and his large pack. After eating the bland oatmeal that he ordered, he set out to find a way to make the half gold coin that he needed for the upgrade to his hammer.

Marcus did have the twenty silver that he'd taken off the dead bandit, but he was treating that as an emergency fund, acting like it didn't exist. You never know when you need a little money in an emergency. He thought about heading to the local branch of the Mercenaries Association, but he doubted he'd be able to complete a mission that paid enough on time. He decided to head to the town square, there the merchants would be set up hawking their goods, so maybe he could do some quick odd jobs to make money. If all else fails, he'd have to part with one of the healing potions that he had on him.

Walking through the crowded streets, he towered above everyone else. He caught many stares from men and women alike. Clearmount wasn't nearly as big as Jakarta, but it still boasted a population of some fifty-thousand. So the square was a little bit of a walk from where his inn was.

After half an hour of walking, Marcus could finally see an open space ahead of him. It had a statue in the middle, most likely of the man who founded the city, and was six hundred feet in diameter. Many stalls were set up haphazardly, with even more people going back and forth either buying or selling. Marcus noticed a long line of people, mainly men. He followed the line with his eyes all the way to the front. There he saw a stage that was set up. On top of the stage was a large boulder, maybe as big as a large beach ball, but wasn't round. It was oblong in shape and smooth, like it was chiseled from a large whole.

A man with slicked back black hair, was shouting from atop the stage.

"Only one silver piece to try to lift the stone! Only one! If you can lift it just up to your waist you can win the prize! The prize is already up to one and a half gold!! Come and try your luck!"

The man was very energetic, just like a carnival barker. Marcus thought he'd found the perfect way to make money. The stone looked like it might weigh six hundred or so pounds, even back on earth, he could lift that much. It might be a little difficult because of the shape of the stone, but he was certain that he could do it. If he was good at anything, it was lifting heavy things and putting them back down. Marcus got in line and waited for his turn, watching the other men, and some women, try to lift the stone.

There were about fifty people in front of him, so he got to see many people try and fail. He thought that although no one could lift it all the way, at least someone could budge it. One man in particular was a short and stocky man, but he had muscles to spare. Marcus thought that the man could probably get the stone up to his knees. He watched as the man got into position, squatting with his back straight, preparing to lift with his legs. Marcus had to commend the man on his form, it was almost perfect.

The man took in a deep breath, and braced himself for the lift. With a sudden burst of strength, the man grunted, veins were bulging out of his arms and neck. He looked like he was trying to lift the world itself. With all that effort, the stone didn't move an inch. Marcus was amazed. He started to suspect that there was more going on than what he could see. Letting out the rest of his breath, the stocky man swayed a little, nearly passing out from the extreme effort that he put into it. After he steadied himself, the man left the stage, cursing under his breath.

Finally it was Marcus's turn to try the stone. He walked up the couple steps onto the stage, he was by far the largest of the men that had tried to lift the stone. But for some reason the man with the slicked back hair didn't seem concerned at all that Marcus would win the prize. From afar, the man looked like he was well dressed, but if you looked closely his clothes were cheaply made. He had a weasley look in his eyes, an upturned nose, and was thin and oily looking. If you imagined a scam artist, this man's face is what you would see.

"Ah, look at this magnificent man! Come and see! He's going to attempt to lift the unliftable stone! If anyone can lift it, it is this man right here!" The oily man was gathering everyone's attention. The more attention he had the more people would try to participate, thus increasing the money he would make.

"One silver coin, that's all it takes to try. The pot is up to two whole gold coins!" The man kept yelling out to the crowd. Two gold coins could last an average person a year, maybe two if they budgeted. So the reward was no small amount. Marcus gave the man the one silver coin, and took position next to the stone.

Marcus had no doubt in his mind that there was a trick here, but he didn't know what it was. If he could lift that huge log, then surely he could lift this stone, even if it weighed twice as much as it looked. Maybe that was it, maybe they had hallowed it out and filled its insides with something much heavier than stone. Maybe it was filled with something like lead. Either way, Marcus was going to lift it.

Squatting down with his back straight, his form was immaculate. Many years of lifting experience culminated in his form. He grasped the stone, took in a deep breath, and started his lift. The crowd was silent, all was watching the largest man many of them had ever seen, lift this large stone. At first, nothing was happening. Marcus was surprised at how much resistance he was getting from the stone. He didn't feel it move at all. He put more effort into it, driving with his legs. Veins were bulging in his arms, and his face was getting a shade of red.

Suddenly, there was a loud pop, like something had broken loose. The stone moved ever so slightly in his grasp. Marcus continued to lift, now putting in his full effort. Marcus could feel something going on, it felt like the floor was moving. With a loud yell, louder than the popping noise from before, he lifted. The floorboards of the stage started to crack as the stone moved upwards, like they were following the stone. The stage itself was shaking, making loud popping and cracking noises. Finally, the wood couldn't withstand the forces acting on it and gave way.

Wood splinters flew in all directions as a large portion of the stage was lifted into the air along with the stone. The boards were thick iron wood, meant to withstand most anything you could think of. You could clearly see that the man had bolted the stone to the floor of the stage. Any normal person would never be able to even move the stone. Marcus stood there in triumph holding the stone easily, along with the large chunk of stage. The floor was snapped right before his feet, so he luckily didn't fall in the hole he created.

The crowd was silent for a moment, not believing what they had seen. All of a sudden a man yelled from the crowd, it was the short stocky man that tried to lift the stone before Marcus.

"That bastard scammed us! There was no way anyone could lift that stone!" He screamed as he pointed towards the oily man, anger all over his face. The crowd was more angry about being taken advantage of than shocked over the amazing feat of strength they witnessed. Many people in the crowd started to yell and throw things up on stage. Many even yelled that they should hang the man for thievery. The oily man was slowly backing away from the crowd, he was about to turn and run when a large hand latched onto his shoulder.

Marcus had dropped the stone into the hole in the stage and grabbed onto the man. He didn't care about the crowd, he had lifted the stone, scam or not, and wanted the winnings. The man looked at Marcus, fear in his eyes. Sweat was beading on his forehead and he was shaking.

Marcus just held out his hand, palm up, and looked the shaking man in the eyes. After a moment the man nodded and slowly took out the money pouch full of silver coins that he'd collected throughout the day. After taking the pouch, Marcus released his vice like grip. The man most likely had deep bruises on his shoulder now, Marcus was not light on his grip.

By this time the crowd had already rushed the stage. The oily man lost his chance to escape. People didn't dare try to get their money back from Marcus, they had seen his strength and feared him. So they would take their anger out on the scammer himself. He had most likely been scamming his way through several cities, and was a natural born liar. The crowd took no pity on him as he was knocked down. Many people started to kick and stomp on him. Blood flowed freely from his nose as it was broken by a man's heel.

Marcus had made his way out of the crowd and watched as they beat the man to death. He didn't feel sorry for the man, he had dug his own grave trying to steal people's money. It wasn't against the law to set up a challenge in order to make some money. But when you rig it so nobody could win, people would naturally take offense. The con-man was just very unlucky that Marcus, with his unnatural strength, came along and exposed his scam.

The screams of the man were cut off abruptly as he lost consciousness. The crowd still pummeled his body with kicks and stomps. The guards just looked the other way, they felt no pity for the man, and with as many people involved, they didn't want to become their next target of furry. Eventually, after the crowd vented its anger, they dispersed. What was left was a blood soaked stage and a barely recognizable man in the middle. His bones were broken, possibly all of them, his face a bloody pulp as it was the main target for most of the crowd. He was most definitely dead.

The guards just picked up the corpse and drug it off to be disposed of. Dead bodies weren't a rare occurrence, but most of them were beggars. So they just treated his body the same way, it was just a bit messier.

Now Marcus had more than enough gold to pay the blacksmith. It couldn't have worked out any better for him. As he made his way back to the smithy, he walked past a stall selling small trinkets. Just small souvenirs you might buy on a trip. Marcus picked one up and inspected it, he thought that Clair might like it.