'System.' Khan silently thought.
A plain, stripped-down blue window materialized in his vision. No fancy borders. No tabs. No glowing skill trees or detailed logs. Just cold, minimal texts like a Job Application form.
[Name: Khan V.Sokolov]
[Race: Human???]
[Level: ???]
[Age: 18]
[Status: Curious, Mildly Excited, Expecting what he will never have]
[Note: True Earthling — Unable to gather or manipulate mana.]
[Skills: System scan]
'...For real? Is that it? You've gotta be kidding me...' Khan's eyes twitched. He had expected a flood of data. Instead, all he got was this sad little menu.
He tried again, slower this time, as if speaking to a drunkard.
'System. Full status. Expanded skill tree. Appraisal history. Anything that isn't this depressing spreadsheet.'
[Currently on vacation. Please try again never.]
"...Did it just sass me?" Khan's eyes widened as he stares at the blue window hovering in his vision like it had personally mugged him and stolen his wallet. The feeling was irritating. He has been demoted from a walking cheat code in his delusion to 'new player who hasn't found the setting menu yet' in reality.
"What?" Zik lifted his gaze from the battle-axe he's polishing.
"Nothing..." Khan turns his eyes from the mirror. He decides to test the damned thing on some stuffs being display on the shelves.
'System scan.'
[Iron Helmet – D-Rank]
[Condition: Heavily dented]
[Status: Probably cursed (previous owner died screaming)]
'Cursed, huh?' Khan smirked and scanned the next object — a cracked vial of glowing green liquid.
[Poison of Eternal Itching – B-Rank]
[Status: Still potent(?). Do not drink unless you hate your crotch.]
"Hahah!" He laughed. The goblin sweated as he finally set the axe down with a heavy clunk.
"Alright, greenie. How's business?"
"I have a name too, ya know..?" The goblin rasped, its yellow fang glinting.
"Never heard you introduced." Khan smirked, decides to keep his system a secret.
"...Zik. Zik the One-Eye. Been running this pawnshop for more than 40 years. Longest any goblin's lasted in Veyra without getting eaten by a Corrupt Storm or stabbed by a customer."
"Impressive. What kind of customers are we talking about?"
"Adventurers mostly," Zik shrugged, wiping his hands on a rag that had seen better centuries. "Broke ones selling loot, rich ones buying cursed toys. Then there are Veinwalker cultists, smugglers, sometimes the Demon Worshippers looking for something sharp and quiet. Last month a half-orc tried to pay me with his own kidney. I told him I don't do organ financing, in case ya wonder."
Khan's grin widened. He liked this little bastard already.
He kept scanning while they talked. A [Rusted sword: D-Rank] – [Status: Depressed]. A glowing ring: [Minor Ring of False Confidence: C-Rank] – [Status: Currently lying to its owner].
Then his eyes landed on the dagger hanging on the far wall.
[Elven Silver Assassin Dagger – A-Rank]
[Condition: Rusted, but still lethally sharp]
[Status: Too big for most elves, perfect for human hands that know how to bleed people quietly]
[Note: Former property of a dead Shadow Court assassin. Still carries a faint blood scent that scares off lesser monsters.]
"That one. 20 silver?" Khan pointed to its hanging price tag.
Zik's eye narrowed. "Sharp eye. Assassin's piece. Frame's too big for elves, too pretty for orcs. I was gonna drop it to 10 if ya haggled hard."
"Come on, drop the bullshit. There's no way you gonna lower the price any further unless something's on your ass. What's the catch?" Khan notices the urgency in the goblin's face.
"...Ya have 6th sense or somethin'..? Alright, I guess." Zik sighed. "Rumors' that a Corrupt Storm is coming, the shit that turns anything it touches into hell, ya know. My safe vault is already packed. If that blade won't sell before it hit... Ya figure the rest."
'Corrupt Storm, huh. Must be some kind of local disaster.' Khan scratches his chin. 'Then let's do this the old-fashioned way.'
Khan slowly leaned on the counter. His young body humming with energy he refused to waste on jerking around like some idiot teenager.
"Tell you what, Zik. I'll take it off your hands for 12 silver right now… but I'm not keeping it. I'm going to sell it for you. 50-50 split on whatever I get above 30 silver. You sit here on your ass, I do the legwork. Broker deal."
Zik stared at Khan like he'd grown a second head. "Ya came out of nowhere, with no mana, and ya already tryin' to hustle me?"
"Why not? Gotta make some money before the storm hits anyway." Khan said, flashing that cold wolfish grin.
Zik scratched his chin, clearly doing math that involved "how much can I screw this tall one over."
"And what's stopping ya from sellin' it and disappearin' with the whole purse?"
Khan gave him a flat look. "I have no money for a deposit. That's why I'm proposing the split instead."
Zik grinned, showing all sharp teeth and bad intentions.
"No money? Then we do it the old-fashioned way."
Shing!
A magical inscription glowed at the hilt for a second before Khan took the heavy blade down the shelf.
[Status: Cursed]
[Note: The Curse of Binding Contract.] [Effect: Enforces deal completion.]
Khan's stomach dropped.
"Zik," he said carefully, "what did you do to my hand?"
The goblin cackled. "Just a little Low-Rank curse. Ya take the blade, sell it, and bring me my share by tomorrow night. Ya try to run? The hilt starts gettin' very chatty. And heavy. And occasionally on fire. Nothing fatal. Just… motivational."
Khan tried to let go of the blade, but his fingers stayed glued to the hilt.
"Motivational," He repeated dryly. "And if the price lowered?"
Zik's grin widened. "Then the curse decides yer a bad negotiator and makes the blade heavier until ya try harder. It's very fair. For me."
Khan stared at the glowing runes now pulsing faintly on the hilt like a smug heartbeat.
'I just got stabbed to death for a wrong chick, now I'm magically bound to a rusted metal that's going to tattle on me if I lowball a buyer. What the fuck is this kind of character development!?!?'
"Any other charming features I should know about?" he sighed.
Zik shrugged. "If ya lie about the sale price, it starts humming insulting songs about yer mother. Goblin magic's very creative."
'You fucker...' Khan closed his eyes for a second.
He finally managed to pry his fingers off the hilt — the curse apparently allowed that much — and slid the blade into the empty sheath at his hip. The weight felt… judgmental.
"Fine," he said. "I'll sell your cursed paperweight. But if this thing starts singing tavern songs about my life choices in the middle of a negotiation, I'm bringing it back and charging you for emotional damage."
Zik waved cheerfully as Khan turned toward the door.
"Pleasure doin' business! And don't be late. The curse gets bored easily."
Khan stepped out into the street, the rusted blade hanging at his side like an extremely judgmental pet. He could already feel the faint warmth of the runes through the sheath.
He sighed again.
"System," he muttered under his breath, "remind me to never broker deals with goblins again."
[Noted, you dimwit.]