The item shop was filled with various goods.
There were all sorts of healing and status ailment treatment items, adventuring gear like torches, ropes, and tents, as well as disposable items for ranged attacks such as darts.
Unfortunately, the Transfer Stones I was hoping for weren’t available this time, but the bargain bin featured the super rare doping item, “Speed Seed,” and many other tempting items were crammed in.
“Flower Fire (Rat Type)” is an attack item that unleashes rat-shaped flames on enemies, allies, and mainly allies.
The “Cooler Box” is a convenient Adventurer’s Bag that freezes the time of items placed inside, preventing spoilage of food items and such.
During the Game era, the VR Machine’s general-purpose menu had a recording function, making the “Video Recorder” (basically a magical video camera) practically useless.
(Bargains really are the best…)
The many enchanting items relentlessly captivated me. It’s impossible to stop visiting item shops with things like this.
(And it’s a good thing I was able to get my hands on the inventory too.)
The difference between VR and non-VR game shops is that in VR games, the actual products are displayed on the shelves.
While there are exceptions, generally, VR games sell out when the items on display are gone. Therefore, in principle, you can’t do things like “bulk buy 99 Potions.”
For example, if there are 20 Potions on display and you buy all of them, you won’t be able to purchase any more Potions until the next day when the stock is replenished.
While only selling displayed items even if there’s more in stock might seem unrealistic, the realism of the real world and the realism within a game are, after all, a bit different.
However, this time, we were able to purchase the inventory items from the warehouse as well. The quantity was about three times what was on display. This means I won’t have to worry about item shortages for a while.
That’s why this entire store buyout was a great success!
As I was retrospectively replaying the events of the day, somewhat escapistly,
“Soma. I can’t carry this.”
Ringo’s voice called out from behind me. I had thought that perhaps Ringo might be able to handle it, but it seemed even she couldn’t.
“…Understood. I’ll take care of it now.”
Resigned, I turned around.
There, it stood: the biggest problem currently plaguing me.
—A mountain of skulls, still piled high.
The item shop attendant was initially stunned by my proposal, but as soon as she realized I genuinely had the financial capability, she quickly went outside, hung a “CLOSED” sign on the entrance, and with a smile, brought out the inventory items to sell to me.
I asked if the shop would be alright with selling all its inventory, but she explained that consumable items, especially fast-moving ones like healing items, could be restocked within a day. She mentioned they were closing for the day, but business would proceed as usual from tomorrow.
This seemed to be a result of the game system’s mechanics. I wondered where they sourced so many products from, but before I could ask, she unceremoniously led me to the warehouse.
“This is…”
And upon seeing what was crammed in there, I was left speechless.
Watching me with a smile, the female attendant gleefully said,
“Thank you so much. These keep getting restocked, but they don’t sell at all, so I was really struggling.”
Though I wasn’t intentionally listening, I inwardly agreed. “Of course they don’t sell.” Even without the game system’s negative modifiers, who would buy such distasteful items?
“’Stylish Skull’…”
It was a quest item, a morbid ornament with the system attribute of “NPCs never pick it up.” It looked like a completely black human skull. Its unpopularity was understandable.
In the game “Nekoneko,” someone had bought 25 on display four times, indicating at least 100 or more in stock, despite it being a bargain item. But no one could have imagined such a massive quantity being stored in the back.
I too had considered buying 25 of them for a quest just before the Subjugation Tournament to complete the “Lost Child’s Signpost” quest, but seeing them fill an entire warehouse like this… what was I supposed to do?
Unaware of my inner lament, the attendant excitedly continued.
“You knew its name well. But customers call it the ‘Cursed Skull,’ and they don’t even come near it, let alone buy it. It’s definitely lowered the shop’s sales.”
“Then why do you have it on display?”
Was that also a game system restriction? Still, why display something so obviously detrimental in such a prominent location?
As I asked in exasperation, the attendant’s expression clouded over.
“I wanted to remove it many times. But as long as it’s boxed up or I’m holding it, it’s fine. Once it’s displayed, though, it’s just too creepy to pick up.”
Her face, which had been so cheerful moments before, was now somber, and she didn’t seem to be joking at all.
(Ah, I see!)
The “Stylish Skull” is, by system design, an item that “no one picks up if placed on the ground.” This effect must have been active even when it was displayed as a product on the shelf. An item that not only customers couldn’t pick up but that even employees couldn’t move from its spot… Truly a “Cursed Skull.”
Of course, this “curse” doesn’t apply to me, a Player. I could probably remove these “Stylish Skulls” easily. Ah, but still…
(Honestly, I don’t need this many…)
As I’d mentioned before, 25 are needed to complete the “Lost Child’s Signpost” quest. I figured buying around 30 would be safe, but how many dozens, or rather, hundreds of skulls were here?
“Um, how many are there…?”
“3,000,” the attendant replied instantly. I scowled.
“Look, I’m sorry, but I can’t buy all of this…”
Just as I was about to refuse the purchase, the attendant preempted me with a smile.
“Surely, you’re not the kind of stingy person who backs out of something they said just because of a somewhat troublesome story? … Right, Mr. Sagara, the Golden Magnate?”
At her smile, I swallowed the words I was about to speak. My name had been revealed. Judging by her phrasing, she must have seen the announcement for the Subjugation Tournament. That meant she likely knew not only our names but also that we had won the grand prize of 80 million E.
“Don’t worry. Normally, that’s 302,500 E for 3,025 items, but I’ll give you a discount and sell it to you for exactly 300,000 E!”
Faced with the attendant’s beaming smile, I was speechless. Come to think of it, I vaguely recalled that the reason I was killed in the game last was because I had been talking to this very attendant.
Instead of my stunned silence, these words came to mind:
(I’ve been forced to buy unsellable inventory!!)
Lesson learned: Always inspect your goods before making a bulk purchase.
So, although I had reluctantly agreed, the bigger problem than buying all the items in the shop was how to store them. However, the answer was among the items I had just purchased. Yes, the super convenient Adventurer’s Bag, which I was also planning to give to Ringo.
In the game, you could only hold one Adventurer’s Bag per person, and it seemed this was also regulated by a similar mental restriction in this world. But conversely, that meant it didn’t apply to me.
I lined up the colorful Adventurer’s Bags and began putting the shop’s items into them one by one. Red Adventurer’s Bag for attack items, blue for healing items, and so on, changing the items based on the bag’s color.
However, this alone would mean I’d have to carry a large number of bags. So, finally, I turned them sideways and placed them inside the Adventurer’s Bag I originally possessed. It was an Adventurer’s Bag within an Adventurer’s Bag.
It worked on the same principle as organizing folders on a computer, creating folders for attack items, weapon items, etc., within an item folder to make it easier to find things. But this had a slight drawback.
Unlike before, when I put items directly into the Adventurer’s Bag, I now had to take out the item-filled Adventurer’s Bag from the outer Adventurer’s Bag, and then retrieve the item from that inner bag. This involved an extra step of retrieving one Adventurer’s Bag from another, making it more cumbersome than before where I only put items in the bag. Honestly, I was starting to lose track of what I was saying.
In short, because the items were stored in a double-layered bag, it now took two steps to retrieve an item.
Still, this could be somewhat resolved by keeping frequently used items in a pouch or the outermost bag. I decided to think about item sorting more carefully once we established a base.
The shop attendant was efficiently and quickly tossing the shop’s items into the bags as I requested her to sort them by item type, so that should be fine. I couldn’t imagine her making mistakes in classification, not when she was a shop attendant. The immediate problem was these “Stylish Skulls” × 3,000.
Putting these crammed items from the warehouse into bags would fall to me, the only one who could touch these skulls.
But, consider this.
3,000 is an enormous number. Even if I could pack one skull per second, it would take 50 minutes. A man, for 50 minutes straight, packing skulls into bags. If it weren’t me, it would be a scene that would make anyone want to run away. In fact, I wanted to run away from this task.
(Why is this happening to me, even after becoming wealthy…)
Does “Nekoneko” forbid even vulgar pleasures? I grumbled inwardly, but I was the one who agreed to buy them, and since neither the attendant nor Ringo could pick them up, I had no choice but to deal with them.
Ringo, who had already finished the second apple I’d bought ostensibly for myself but was ultimately given to her, waved a small hand at me, cheering me on. I glared at her resentfully and continued silently packing the skulls into my bag.
“Thank you very much! Please come again!”
I heard the item shop attendant’s voice, probably tinged with satisfaction, behind me.
(I’m never coming back, you idiot!) I spat internally, indulging my childish thoughts. Well, having bought so much, it wasn’t impossible that I’d never need to return. Still, I felt I might find myself coming back daily in search of bargains.
After nearly an hour, I finished packing all the skulls into my bags, paid the bill, and left the shop. The total came to 980,000 E. My sense of money had long since vanished, so I couldn’t tell if it was expensive or cheap.
“Alright, let’s round it up and call it a nice, clean 1 million E!” The attendant said this as if she were doing me a favor, but it was clearly more expensive. Unable to muster the energy to retort, I just gave her a weary look. Perhaps sensing my unspoken plea, she reflected,
“J-just kidding? You really helped me out this time.” With that, she bowed deeply, about 90 degrees, making me feel slightly better. To her, I was undoubtedly a great customer.
Anyway, trusting the game system to prevent any fraudulent accounting, I paid the 980,000 E. Or rather, I had done things not in the game, like buying inventory, and she had significantly discounted the skulls. I wasn’t sure how much I could trust that anymore, but honestly, I just couldn’t be bothered.
“Fi-nished…”
Such a fuss over a mere shopping trip. I felt like I’d bought a few unnecessary items, but the price was only 300,000 E. It wasn’t that much to worry about. More importantly, the mental anguish I endured was priceless.
“…You too,” Ringo’s gentle voice, offering words of encouragement, somehow lessened the blow.
(Oh, right…)
While I was busy stuffing skulls, Ringo had prepared a personal money pouch, a Crystal, and an Adventurer’s Bag for herself. However, as it was inappropriate to handle large sums of money in front of others, I hadn’t yet given her my share of the prize money.
“Ringo. Lend me your Crystal.”
I said that, took the Crystal from her, and transferred half of the prize money I’d received, 21,350,000 E, into it. Now my Crystal had about 20,400,000 E, and Ringo’s had 21,350,000 E.
Or so I calculated, but
“…Lend it.”
Ringo immediately snatched my Crystal and returned 21,000,000 E to it. This left only 350,000 E in Ringo’s Crystal. While that was still a lot of money, it was incomparable to 20 million E.
“Wh-what!” I exclaimed in surprise, but Ringo, looking as unfocused as ever, calmly replied,
“…It’s fine. Soma seems to know more about these things.”
“No, it’s not about knowing more, but you must have things you want to buy yourself, like your own weapons or armor…”
But Ringo stated resolutely,
“I’ll have Soma buy everything for me.”
A bold declaration of freeloading. But, does that mean…?
“Does that mean you’ll be staying with me from now on?”
To my question, Ringo finally met my gaze.
“…Inconvenient?”
Ringo looked at me, her expression as blank as usual, but her eyes seemed to waver slightly.
—I wonder.
I pondered. What I had been avoiding for so long, seriously. It was probably because she had such a subdued presence that I, with my solitary nature, managed to get along with Ringo, even for a short time. It’s strange to call someone with such individuality “subdued,” but when she has no specific task, Ringo does surprisingly little. She simply exists there, staring blankly at somewhere or nowhere in particular.
As a person, this might be considered abnormal, even frightening to some, but I could say it was compatible with me. It’s hard to explain, but even though I generally prefer to be alone, she doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable when we’re together. To put it cruelly, she’s a convenient person for me.
And her combat abilities are more than sufficient. Her special ability, the lightning strike, is powerful, and above all, her base stats are high. This means she is resilient, which is the most important thing. My tendency to play solo in “Nekoneko” was largely due to my trauma from losing companions. However, the thought occurred to me that perhaps I could adventure with a companion who was stronger than me.
And most importantly…
“…No, it’s not inconvenient.”
Even though I’m supposed to be a loner, I found myself thinking that I’d somehow miss it if she wasn’t around. This was probably my defeat.
“These past two days with Ringo have been more fun than usual.”
As soon as I said that, for some reason, Ena’s– no, Train’s– face flashed in my mind for a moment. I didn’t think Ena could keep up with the adventures ahead, so I had tricked her and left her in Ramur. I didn’t regret that decision. Even thinking about it now, I reached the same conclusion, and despite being selfish, I still believe it would lead to her happiness.
“…Mm. Than-ks.”
But seeing Ringo look down as she said that, I couldn’t help but see Ena’s resemblance. Driven by impulse, I asked,
“But, is Ena alright? I’ll probably get caught up in dangerous things from now on. With 20 million, you could live safely in this town…”
But to my question, Ringo shook her head without hesitation. Then, she said,
“If I’m not there, Soma will probably die right away…”
At Ringo’s unexpected words, I finally burst out laughing.
(What is this. If she says it like that, I have no choice.)
I made up my mind.
“Ringo!”
I called her name firmly and extended my right hand towards her. For a moment, Ringo stared at me intently, as if trying to gauge my intentions, but then understanding dawned in her eyes.
“…So-ma.”
Could she be nervous? Ringo, of all people, reached out to me hesitantly, like a frightened child. Then, a soft, slightly damp sensation was pressed against my right hand.
“—!”
At that moment, words failed me. Ringo looked at me, and I looked at Ringo. Our gazes met.
“Sorry, Ringo.”
Then, slowly. Very, very slowly, I lowered my gaze to my right hand, where Ringo had touched me.
“…It’s not for *that* kind of thing.” Nailed to my outstretched right hand were two perfectly eaten apple cores, neatly arranged.
—I thought, Ringo is a truly confusing name.
