Zack’s mask slipped.

  His body froze. His eyes widened. His heart rate increased. Instantly the train of his thought was derailed.

  He started doing mental math.

  He was making five lindra per delivery. Twenty deliveries per fortin. Four thousand deliveries to make two hundred fortin.

  Okay, so how much were thurgenrats? It was one contribution point per thurgenrat, so the monetary value was probably close, right? And they were swarming.

  But that was fighting—and killing four thousand overgrown monster rats was probably a huge undertaking.

  Even if he got up to Millie’s level in [Sewing], which was unlikely given [The Learn]’s experience boost only worked up to level one, that was a hundred days of work tailoring, likely full-time.

  Ah, but he had gotten pretty good at memorization, hadn’t he?

  He had in his mind several of the Director’s play manuscripts, all the way down to the annotations.

  What if he just borrowed the book?

  He forced himself to [Calm Down], cleared his throat, and stood up straight.

  And he saw the bookseller grinning at him with a knowing look.

  “Caught your eye, eh? Just interested in magic, or do you already have [Magic Control]?”

  Well, this was bad.

  Revealing what you want in a negotiation right off the bat is bad strategy.

  “I’ve just never seen a book about learning magic before,” Zack said. “I don’t have either of the [Skills].”

  The bookseller chuckled. “No, I reckon you haven’t. This is a copy of the primer that Archmage Grimblewarf wrote for his great-grand niece, when she expressed an interest in learning magic. It’s quite rare, and quite effective if one follows the exercises within.”

  “I’m sorry, hang on,” Zack interrupted.

  “What is it?”

  “Archmage Grimblewarf? Did I hear that right?”

  The bookseller’s eyebrows rose. “Yes, the Archmage Grimblewarf.”

  Zack was stunned.

  What kind of name was that?!

  The bookseller continued, seeing Zack was speechless. “Well, the book is sold as-is, so if you find out that it’s not a perfect match for Archmage Grimblewarf’s original primer, I won’t be liable.”

  Zack recovered his composure.

  “Well, do you mind if I flip through the book to take a look?”

  It might push [Memorize] to the limit, but even hints towards getting the [Magic Perception] skill would be tremendously valuable.

  Back in the Castle, Emma, the maid he had caught spying on him, had suggested there were magical means of surveillance.

  If he thought about it like digital surveillance and surveillance cameras back on Earth, knowing how magical surveillance worked and being able to perceive it would be huge.

  “Ah ah ah,” the bookseller smiled and wagged his finger. One eyebrow was cocked, and he had the mien of an older man scolding a child. “Don’t think you’re clever, hoping to memorize the book and walk away with a copy in your head for free. If that’s how you want to play it, I’ll let you flip through the book for a hundred and fifty fortin, plus a fifty fortin deposit in case you try to run or if you damage the book.”

  So two hundred fortin either way.

  “That’s not what I meant,” Zack lied, “but I understand where you’re coming from. What I wanted to know was how effective the exercises are.” He looked into the bookseller’s eyes. “Have you tried them yourself?”

  “No, I haven’t.” The bookseller’s expression turned grim. “There are things in this world one is better off not knowing. I’m just a humble book merchant. I ply my trade, live my life, and keep my nose out of other peoples’ business.”

  “I see.” Zack understood the viewpoint, but couldn’t agree with it. Knowledge was power, and power was needed to protect oneself.

  And so, he carefully memorized the bookseller’s face for future reference.

  “My name’s Jack, by the way.” He neither held out his hand for a handshake nor bowed; such things weren’t done among lower class commoners, or so Ronaldo had told him.

  But the bookseller did that slight bow with his hand on his chest that Sir Henry had done, back in the Knight’s Lounge. Middle class, then.

  “You can call me Bob, young Jack. And I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I already have the protection of the Cartelone Family in addition to the Merchant’s Guild.”

  “No, I understand,” Zack said. He didn’t know what the Cartelone Family was, but the warning was obvious. Don’t steal from me. “I almost had my pocket picked just earlier today. One can’t be too careful.”

  “Indeed.” The bookseller narrowed his eyes.

  With that, Zack turned and left.

  No chance he was ever getting a discount with ‘Bob,’ if that was his real name.

  At least, Jack Werdruf wouldn’t.

  But, as much as he had gotten his hopes up, this was still a win.

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  There were books floating around that helped readers gain the [Magic Control] and [Magic Perception] skills necessary to use magic.

  Housing. Snake food. Weapons. Now books.

  Maybe money was more important than Zack had thought.

  He left the market square and took off at a light jog uphill to the southwest corner of the city, where the crowded medieval buildings transitioned to large manors and gated estates. There were no City Guards posted here, but every third or so manor had a guard or two posted at the gate, and they all turned to watch the Adventurer’s Guild courier running through their territory.

  Up and up the hill rose until Jack had to slow down, his breathing heavy. Walking now, he turned down twisting side roads matching the hills gentle contours, thankful for the map Stacy had drawn him, and eventually he reached the location of his final delivery.

  Hawkeye Manor.

  It was a large, three-story manor like the others on this road, though distinguished from the rest by a large tower with a conical roof held aloft by four wooden pillars, maximizing the free area. The tower itself was twice as tall as the manor to which it was attached. As Zack looked at it, he saw a large hawk glide inside and disappear from view.

  Perhaps the owners [Tamed] birds, or were otherwise engaged in falconry.

  There was no guard at the gate, which was securely locked, but there was a surprisingly modern looking doorbell next to a small placard explaining that pushing the button would summon an attendant.

  So, he pushed the button.

  There was a light pinging noise, and then he waited.

  Less than a minute later, he saw a man—obviously a butler—walk around the side of the building on a stone-paved path. The butler approached the gate and stopped some ten feet back before bowing with his hand on his chest.

  “Good afternoon, Adventurer. How can the Hawkeye Estate help you today?”

  Zack held up the final envelope he was tasked with delivering. “I’ve got a delivery for Lady Elizabeth Hawkeye.”

  The butler stepped closer now. “I see. I’m afraid milady is out on business at the moment. I can accept the delivery on her behalf.”

  Zack frowned. “I’m supposed to make the delivery directly to the recipient.”

  The butler chuckled. He was an older man with greying hair and a round face. “New to couriering?”

  Zack’s frown deepened, and the butler waved a hand. “Oh, don’t pout. Look, I’ll write a note for you to take back.” The butler pulled out a small pad of paper and a fountain pen—the first Zack had seen since coming to this world—and wrote a note which he then passed to Zack through the gate.

  Delivery for Lady Elizabeth Hawkeye received care of Estate Manager George Powell, courier released from all liability by the Hawkeye Estate.

  And it was signed and dated.

  “Lady Elizabeth is, herself, an Adventurer. Your senior, as it were, mister…?”

  “Jack,” Zack introduced himself.

  “Ahem, Jack. And I am George Powell.”

  Zack eyed the note, still unsure, and the butler sighed.

  “I assure you, you won’t get in any trouble. Here, a tip.” The butler passed him a neat stack of five lindra coins. “And if the Guild takes issue with the delivery, file an appeal under regulation thirty-one. The Hawkeye Estate will verify delivery, and your contribution points will be corrected. In the meantime, you won’t lose out on your monetary compensation. Now, the receipt and the delivery?”

  He held his hand out.

  Zack passed it over.

  He didn’t know what regulation thirty-one was, but this all seemed well enough above board. And he had made four successful deliveries already, so even if he lost three points here, he wouldn’t go negative.

  What even was the consequence of going negative, anyway? He had been forced to register because Sienna was a B-rank snake. What were they doing to do, unregister him?

  The butler returned the receipt, signed with his name and another note saying on behalf of Lady Elizabeth Hawkeye.

  “Are you planning to regularly take courier quests?” the butler asked.

  “Maybe…” Zack answered.

  The butler nodded and smiled. “Well, if you do, there’s good tips in it for you if you make deliveries to the Hawkeye Estate a priority, if you understand what I mean.”

  Offering good tips, huh?

  Zack smiled, [Acting] like a fresh Adventurer hurting for cash.

  It wasn’t exactly untrue, either.

  “You got it, Mister Powell.”

  “Good. Farewell, Adventurer Jack.”

  The butler turned to walk back inside the manor, and Zack jogged back out of the secluded neighborhood and back down the hill, receipts and note and his seven lindra in tips carefully tucked into his pocket. He was nearly the entire span of the city away from the Adventurer’s Guild in the northwest quadrant, and the run back took him nearly half an hour, by his estimate. He made better time avoiding the Kingsroad, and although he couldn’t be sure, since the change was subtle, but he felt like his [Running] had improved once again.

  That or his cardio was just improving in general.

  Laying low hadn’t been good for his physical health. Too much sitting around and studying. Getting out and running around had been surprisingly enjoyable.

  It was late afternoon when he returned to the Guildhall, around the time that the matinee performance at the Rose Theater would be wrapping up. There were far more Adventurers in the Guildhall. The butchering tables were all occupied, various monster carcasses disassembled and leaking blood and other fluids onto the stone floor, where they flowed into a drain.

  Thankfully there was no smell.

  Some kind of magic, maybe?

  The beer and food window had a line in front of it, and Adventurers crowded around tall standing tables chatting excitedly about the day’s work. Most kept their swords on their hips, but there was an impressive collection of battleaxes, spears, staves, helmets, and shields on equipment racks.

  There was also lines in front of the reception windows. It happened to be that Stacy’s window had the shortest line, so that was where Zack headed.

  The wait was longer than the time it had taken him to run clear across the city, but it was good [Eavesdropping].

  “There’s no end to those damn thurgenrats.”

  “I heard the deep forest is off-limits for the rest of the month.”

  “That’s right, the Royal Warden’s put strict limits on licenses, and he’s got the Hunter’s Guild prowling around enforcing ‘em.”

  “Did ya hear someone [Tamed] a taipan?”

  “Nah, that’s a load of bull. Don’t believe every rumor you hear, Callistan.”

  “I heard there’s a new kindle of lynxens just got born.”

  “Good, maybe they’ll hunt down the thurgenrats.”

  A lot of the Adventurers were complaining about the thurgenrats, but nobody seemed to have brought any in for butchering.

  Zack reached the front of the line.

  “Welcome back, brave Advent—oh, it’s you, Jack.” Stacy perked up once she recognized him. “How was your first quest?”

  “It was alright.” He slid the receipts and the note from the butler of Hawkeye Manor to Stacy. She picked that note out first.

  “Hmm, oh, yeah, this is fine. I probably should have given you a heads up about the Estates.”

  With no sense of remorse, Stacy checked through the receipts and updated his file and paid him his reward: twenty-five lindra.

  “You know,” Stacy said with an enticing look, “you’d make three lindra per thurgenrat tail you turn in…”

  She looked up at him hopefully.

  Zack sighed.

  “Alright, tell me about the thurgenrats.”

  The men waiting behind him in line groaned loudly.

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