Shirou lay sprawled on the small inn bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling. The wooden panels above seemed to stretch endlessly, the occasional creak of the building settling the only sound in the quiet room.
"Three more days have passed," Shirou muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
With a thought, he summoned the Dungeon Key into his palm. The key shimmered into existence, glowing faintly. Above it, a translucent system window unfolded:
> [Unlocks in 11 days 15 hours 39 minutes 12 seconds]
"Tch," Shirou clicked his tongue and dismissed the key back into his inventory with a flicker of thought.
"Eleven more days, huh? What am I even supposed to do in the meantime...?" he sighed.
The truth gnawed at him. After the incident with the thief a few days ago, it was painfully clear: he was still weak.
Sure, he'd survived the fight, even defeated the thief, but it hadn't been easy—and luck had played too big a role.
"I should lay low until I complete all fifty floors of the Dungeon Tower," Shirou decided aloud.
"But... damn, I've got nothing to do until then."
He let out a deep, heavy exhale and rolled onto his side "Maybe... I should get a job or something," he mused aloud.
"I could go buy a sword..." he considered. "I've got some aether coins from that thief." His fingers absentmindedly traced patterns across the blanket. "But the shopkeeper said even the cheapest swords start at ten gold aether coins, and I've only got seven."
His mind churned for a solution—something, anything to bridge that gap.
Then it struck him, and Shirou sat up sharply, excitement flashing in his eyes.
"Wait... that's right! I still have Inferno Fang!" His eyes lit up with excitement. "If I sell it, I might just have enough for a decent sword!"
With a thought, he summoned Emberfang. The dagger materialized in his hand, its blade glinting faintly in the dim light. He turned it over slowly, feeling its weight. Memories of his first battles flickered in his mind—how this dagger had been his first true weapon, how it had saved his life.
Shirou's excitement dimmed as hesitation gripped him. He clenched the dagger tighter, then reluctantly dismissed it back into his inventory.
"...No. It's a good plan, but..." He sighed. "It's my first weapon. I can't just sell it off. It feels... wrong."
Frustration boiled in his chest, and he ran a hand through his messy hair.
"There's gotta be another way."
Then another thought surfaced—something he'd nearly forgotten.
"Wait a second... the thief's knife!" he exclaimed, eyes widening. "I took it from him! Maybe I can sell those instead!"And if he got lucky, he might scrape enough gold aether together to finally afford a real sword.
Shirou swung his legs off the bed,
determination in his every movement.
"Finally, something to do," he grinned to himself.
He changed into his casual clothes, buckled his boots, and double-checked the lock on his door before stepping out.
As he passed the front counter, he gave the innkeeper—the young-looking lady—a small wave. She responded with a polite smile, as usual, not stopping her endless dusting and tallying of ledgers.
The streets outside were alive with motion. Merchants barked out deals, children weaved between stalls, and the scent of baked bread wafted on the breeze. Shirou adjusted his coat and joined the flow of pedestrians, his destination clear: the weapons shop.
The buzz of the market blurred around him as he walked, his mind focused. That was, until—
"Heeey, Shirou!"
A cheerful voice called from behind.
He turned, confused.
Standing there, hands on hips and a wide grin on her face, was a pink-haired girl wearing a casual dress and a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"Alenia," Shirou said automatically.
"It's Amelia!" she corrected with a mock pout.
"Sorry," Shirou chuckled, scratching his cheek. "Not great with names."
"I will let it pass for this time".
Shirou laughed lightly, brushing off the mistake. "So, did you get to see that Violet guy that day?"
Amelia shook his head. "Nope. Missed him."
Shirou scratched the back of his head, feeling guilty. "Maybe... if you hadn't bumped into me, you could have."
"No, no," she waved her hand dismissively. "He was gone hours earlier." Then her expression shifted mischievously. "Or... maybe I could have seen him if I hadn't stopped to help you."
"But you just said he was gone hours earlier," Shirou pointed out, deadpan.
"Nope! You must have imagined that." she sniffed dramatically, wiping imaginary tears from her eyes. "Meeting him was my dream... and now it's gone forever."
Shirou stared at her, dumbfounded at her antics.
Then, with a sly look, Amelia leaned in closer.
"You know... if you really feel guilty about it," she said sweetly, "you could make it up to me."
Shirou narrowed his eyes. "How?"
She gave another fake sniffle. "Buy me dinner!"
He blinked, then laughed. "Sure, why not?"
Amelia's eyes lit up. "Really? Then it's a deal! Tomorrow night, right here!"
"Deal," Shirou agreed with a grin.
She spun on her heel, practically skipping beside him. "So, where you off to now?"
"Going to the weapons shop," Shirou replied. "I need a sword."
"I thought you bought one already?" she asked, puzzled.
"Well... not exactly," Shirou admitted sheepishly. "I couldn't afford one. Ended up getting a dagger instead."
Her face fell, lips forming a small frown. "Oh... that's sad."
She glanced sideways at him. "You know what? Let's cancel dinner."
"Hey, it's fine!" Shirou said quickly. "I've got enough to buy a sword now—and to buy you dinner too."
He added with a wink, "And besides, I made a promise, didn't I?"
She laughed, the gloom vanishing instantly. "Alright, alright. If you insist."
Shirou didn't know how to respond to that, so he coughed awkwardly.
"And you?" he asked. "Where were you headed?"
"Shopping!" she announced brightly. "Clothes, mainly."
"Mind if I tag along? I need some clothes too," Shirou said.
"Sure!" Amelia beamed.
They strolled together through the busy streets until they reached a clothing shop nestled between two larger buildings. The scent of fresh fabric and polished wood greeted them as they stepped inside.
Shirou's eyes were immediately drawn to a display near the entrance—a sleek black hooded cloak, hanging solitary and proud.
Something about it called to him.
He drifted towards it, almost in a trance.
"This is what you want?" Amelia asked, following him. "Why?"
"Because," Shirou said simply, reaching out to brush the cloak's edge, "I like it."
Amelia chuckled and wandered off with a staff member to find dresses. Meanwhile, Shirou busied himself choosing a deep blue long-sleeved shirt, black trousers, and a sturdy leather belt. After a few tries at the mirror—striking different poses and stances under the cloak—he was satisfied.
He picked up a few more basic outfits too, figuring it would save him future trips.
By the time he reached the counter, Amelia was already there, arms laden with four large bags.
"That's... a lot," Shirou muttered under his breath.
"I couldn't find everything I needed!" she defended with a pout.
He somehow doubted that. She probably wanted more.
After paying, they left the shop, parting ways at the crossroads. Amelia waved her bags triumphantly before vanishing into the crowd.
Shirou ducked into a nearby alley, away from prying eyes.
He summoned his inventory window—a grid of translucent boxes only visible to him. Items were neatly slotted into separate sections. He placed the newly bought clothes inside, watching as they shimmered and tucked away safely. Then, with a thought, the cloak appeared on him, straight from the inventory.
He looked at the inventory and noticed the aether coins he had used at the counter had returned to his inventory.
Shirou smiled grimly.
He had realized something crucial days ago: once something entered his inventory, it was recognized as his. If he handed something over to another person willingly, it would vanish from his inventory—but if he only pretended to hand it over without truly transferring ownership in his heart, it remained his.
A loophole.
A dirty trick.
But a trick he needed.
"Theft? Maybe," Shirou murmured to himself, straightening his cloak. "But it's all for the greater good."
He stepped out into the sunlight again, pulling his hood slightly forward.
Next stop is the weapons shop.