All in Charisma (A LitRPG/Isekai Adventure)

173. House Hunters: Belmora Edition


The first location was on Fishmonger's Row, a street in Mudside that ran parallel to the Marin River, about half a mile from the main commercial district. From the outside, it looked surprisingly promising for this part of town—a two-story building with large display windows on the ground floor and living quarters above, nestled between a bakery and a pawn shop. The steady foot traffic, while not as heavy as in wealthier districts, suggested decent business potential for Mudside, and the proximity to the river docks allowed easy access for suppliers willing to venture into the area.

However, as they approached, Justin caught the first hint of a potential problem. The wind shifted, carrying the unmistakable stench of the river. Not just the water, but the accumulated refuse from a city that dumped its waste into the current. It wasn't overwhelming, but it was persistent; the kind of smell that seeped into fabric and lingered.

"Ah, potential tenants!"

An affable man emerged from the shop before they even reached the door, his round face beaming with an enthusiasm that Justin perceived as almost desperate. He appeared to be in his forties, with thinning brown hair and the soft build of someone who spent more time counting coins than lifting crates. His clothes were well-maintained but not expensive. It was the uniform of a man trying to project a prosperity he didn't quite possess.

"Ari Wickhart, at your service," he said, extending a slightly damp palm toward Justin. "I hope you're here about the rental. Excellent timing! I was just tidying up for viewing. Prime location, as you can see. Prime!"

Justin shook the offered hand, providing introductions and noting how Wickhart's eyes appraised his expensive clothing and confident bearing. The man clearly saw gold crowns walking toward him.

"We're considering several locations," Justin replied diplomatically. "Perhaps you could show us around?"

"Mr. Wickhart comes highly recommended," Rinna interjected cheerfully. "He's been very accommodating about scheduling."

"Absolutely!" Wickhart beamed at Rinna's endorsement. "You won't find better in this district, I guarantee it." His gaze swept over their unusual party—a well-dressed Gentleman, a Bard with fancy knives, a Paladin with a heavy hammer trying to look inconspicuous, and four women of varying stations. His eyebrows rose slightly, but he made no comment beyond a barely perceptible tightening around his eyes.

The interior was cramped but functional. The ground floor offered decent retail space with large display windows, though the low ceiling made it feel smaller than it was. Behind the main area, a narrow staircase led to the upper accommodations, while a small storage room and what passed for an office completed the commercial space.

"Wonderful natural light," Wickhart noted, gesturing toward the windows as if he had arranged for the sun to shine through them. "Perfect for displaying wares. And the foot traffic, as you can see..." he waved toward the street where people hurried past with varying degrees of purpose, "...is simply marvelous. Unlike many surrounding buildings, this one survived the Night of Fire a century ago. Good bones. I can't say they're enchanted against fire, but it wouldn't surprise me."

"The Night of Fire," Rinna said. "If this building survived that, then it does have good bones, Mr. Wickhart."

Wickhart's chest puffed up with the pride of a man who enjoyed sharing local history. "Oh, quite true, miss. Mudside was once a prosperous district, an alternative to the Golden Forum downriver. But one terrible night, a great conflagration swept through here, destroying nearly everything. What you see today grew from those ashes and never quite recovered."

Justin nodded, though he was more focused on the faint but persistent odor that seemed to permeate everything. The river smell would definitely be an issue, especially if they planned to store any goods that might absorb it.

The tour continued upstairs, where Wickhart proudly displayed the living quarters. There were four small but adequate rooms, a common area with a hearth, and a tiny kitchen that looked like it had been added as an afterthought.

"Cozy, isn't it?" Wickhart beamed. "Perfect for a small household. Very... intimate. As I said, it's an older building, and styles were different in the fifth century."

It was the second time the man had mentioned the building's age. In this city, particularly in this part of town, it might signify quality.

Justin cleared his throat. "So, the age of the building is a point in its favor?"

Wickhart nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes, sir. Despite its issues—and yes, there are orcs and Varkiss in certain areas—Mudside is home to good, hardworking folk who will have your back in a pinch. Buildings like this, with such history, have character."

Justin focused on one detail Wickhart had mentioned. "There are racial tensions here, I take it?"

The man offered an apologetic smile. "When aren't there, Mr. Talemaker? But Fishmonger's Row is mostly human, and the orcs and Varkiss know to act respectfully or risk being run off." He continued casually, "Now, do you have any other questions?"

Justin could see that while four people could live here comfortably, the remaining three members of their party would need separate accommodations. It wasn't ideal, but it wasn't a deal-breaker either.

"And the neighbors?" Alistair asked, peering out a window at the adjoining buildings.

"Oh, wonderful people! The baker next door makes the best bread—long-standing business with plenty of customers, especially in the morning. And old Henry with his second-hand goods has steady patrons from the docks."

"A pawn broker isn't the best neighbor," Lila observed. Justin recalled that she had once run her own shop in Eribar, so he trusted her judgment.

"Ordinarily, that would be true," Wickhart admitted. "But Mr. Henry is an institution. A bit gruff, but he runs a smooth and honorable operation, as one can in that line of business." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "You'd fit right in with the local community."

"The location really is convenient," Rinna added supportively. "Close to the docks for deliveries, but far enough from the rougher areas to feel safe."

Justin had to suppress a chuckle. She sounded like a realtor whose commission was at stake.

Wickhart led them downstairs once again. The floor and shelving were surprisingly clean, making a good impression.

"And that concludes the tour," Wickhart said, rubbing his hands together with barely contained excitement. "Now, I believe we can settle on... ninety silvers a month for both the retail space and upper accommodations, assuming a five-year lease. For a three-year term, it would be a gold crown and ten silvers. Quite reasonable, considering the location and amenities."

"That seems very fair," Rinna said quickly, then caught Justin's warning glance. "Though, of course, we need to see all our options first."

Justin kept his expression neutral, though his mind was already processing the numbers. Ninety silvers probably wasn't outrageous for a space this size, especially in Mudside, but it felt steep given the location and obvious drawbacks. The foot traffic was decent for this district, and the surrounding shops appeared to be thriving. However, the cramped quarters and persistent river odor were definite concerns.

"We'll need some time to consider," Justin said. "We're looking at several properties today."

Wickhart's face fell slightly, but he quickly regained his enthusiastic demeanor. "Of course! Though I should mention—decent properties in Mudside don't stay available long. Not many landlords keep their places in good condition around here, you understand. And if you need something larger, I have a place that will be available, but not for a month."

"We understand," Justin replied. "We'll be in touch."

As they stepped back onto the street, the river smell seemed even more noticeable after the confined spaces inside. Justin exchanged glances with his companions, already knowing this wouldn't be their first choice.

"Yuck," Lila said. "We can get better than that."

"I agree," Alistair said. "High traffic is good for business, yes, but not at the cost of making me nauseous."

"All right, that one's off the list," Justin said.

"Well, the smell is just part of the landscape when you're in Mudside by the river," Rinna said. "Shall we see the next one?"

Justin nodded, taking note of Rinna's defensiveness. This was her life, and they had literally turned their noses up at it.

"Let's see the next one, Rinna. And thank you."

She nodded and led them to another part of the district.

The second location was a couple of blocks north of Saint Muriel, tucked away in a secluded alley that Justin imagined would become dark and forbidding after nightfall. There was no river smell here, which was an immediate improvement, but the narrow passage and overhanging buildings created an atmosphere more like a hideout than a welcoming storefront.

"I like that it's close to the church," Alistair murmured approvingly as they approached. "Not far from our employers, either. Convenient for... consultations."

The building's exterior wasn't much to look at. The weathered stone and faded wood seemed determined to blend into the shadows. Justin realized he might have walked past it without a second glance if he hadn't been specifically searching for it.

But the interior was a revelation.

"Welcome, welcome," came a sibilant voice from the depths of the shop.

A figure emerged from the maze of rooms beyond—a bipedal lizard person with jade-green scales. A varkiss, Justin noted. She was clearly female, though he found it hard to estimate her age due to her reptilian features. Her movements were graceful, and her yellow, slitted eyes conveyed an intelligence that seemed to catalog every detail of their group. She wore thick furs, as if the pleasantly cool weather were a freezing gale.

"I am Szara," she said, her forked tongue briefly visible as she spoke. "You are here about the rental, yes?"

"We are," Justin replied, briefly introducing everyone. "Rinna mentioned you had space available?"

The varkiss nodded, gesturing with a scaled hand toward the interior. "Come, see what I offer. The space is... considerable."

She wasn't exaggerating. The retail area was vast, featuring multiple interconnected rooms that created an almost labyrinthine layout. There were display areas, storage rooms, private consultation spaces, and even a small workshop in the back. This space would be perfect for a bookshop or a shop selling curiosities and enchanted items, the kind of place where customers could wander and lose themselves among the goods on display. However, filling the space with inventory would require a significant investment.

The upper level, accessed by a sturdy wooden staircase, provided generous living accommodations that could easily house their entire group, with room for more.

"This is incredible," Rinna whispered, clearly impressed by the sheer scope of the space.

Tamsin, however, looked less certain. "Are there... humans nearby?"

Szara's expression remained unchanged, but Justin noticed a subtle flaring of her neck frill. Insightful Gaze suggested it resembled a knowing smile. "This row forms a sort of border between the races in Mudside," she said diplomatically, leaving the implications unspoken.

Justin didn't mind the racial element personally. He had no stake in that particular game and held liberal views on such matters, even in his own life on Earth. His concern was purely practical: other races might not feel comfortable shopping with him, and humans might avoid the area entirely. But the location itself was nearly perfect.

"The space is ideal," he said honestly, "but the storefront isn't much to look at from the outside. It's easily missed. First impressions in business matter."

"What about foot traffic?" Lila asked. "I didn't see anyone walking down this alley, though I did notice a few lurking."

"Lurking? Perhaps. But it shouldn't be a problem for those as... equipped as you. Rest assured, those seeking quality will find their way here. Word spreads quickly in Mudside, and the privacy has its... advantages."

Justin figured that was true for certain lines of business. For those looking to stay off the radar, like them, it might not be entirely bad.

They spent several more minutes exploring the various rooms, and Justin had to admit the possibilities were intriguing. The space could accommodate multiple business functions simultaneously, and the living quarters were the most comfortable they had seen.

"The rent," Szara said as they concluded their tour, "is one gold crown and forty silvers per month for a five-year lease. I do not offer anything shorter, as this location is in high demand. I expect it to be taken today, so do not take too long to decide."

Justin's Insightful Gaze immediately caught the micro-expressions that betrayed her words. The slight tightening around her eyes and the way her tongue flicked nervously indicated she was lying about the competition. The space had likely been empty for months.

He didn't begrudge her the deception; it was standard negotiating practice. But he filed the information away for future reference.

"Thank you for the tour," he said politely. "We're viewing other properties today, but we'll certainly give this one serious consideration."

Szara's scaled brow ridge lowered slightly, and Justin noticed a flash of irritation in her yellow eyes—another red flag. A confident landlord with genuine competition wouldn't react that way to a reasonable response.

"As you wish," she said coolly. "But remember, opportunity does not wait."

As they made their way back through the alley, Lila shook her head. "I hope the third time's a charm. I have to admit I liked that space; it had real potential, even if Szara leaves much to be desired."

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Alistair seemed a bit disappointed as well. "The proximity to our... contacts would have been convenient."

"She was lying about the competition," Justin assured them. "That space has been empty for a while. If we want it, we have room to negotiate."

"How can you be so sure?" Rinna asked, her eyes wide. "I'm afraid we'll lose it if we don't hurry!"

Justin tapped his temple. "Call it a talent for reading people. You'll learn to do it too, given time. Now, shall we see what the final option has to offer?"

The third property was on Copper Lane, a well-maintained street that balanced accessibility and affordability. Unlike the secluded alley of the previous location, this street had regular foot traffic and featured cobblestones instead of dirt. It offered a mix of residential and retail spaces, typically in three-story buildings that overhung the street, alongside street vendors hawking their wares.

The building itself was modest yet respectable—two stories of weathered brick, featuring a green-painted door and clean windows.

"Now this," said Tamsin approvingly, "looks like a proper place of business."

The landlord who greeted them was a middle-aged human named Garrett Mollusk, a portly man with graying hair and a practiced smile, the kind that belonged to someone who made his living dealing with people. His clothes were well-made but not ostentatious, and his handshake was firm without being aggressive. His class tag logged him as a Level 8 Merchant.

"Welcome, welcome! You must be the group young Rinna mentioned. Excellent timing. I just finished some repairs on the upper level."

"The location seems promising," Alistair observed, noting the steady stream of people passing by outside.

"Oh, it is," Mollusk assured them. "Copper Lane has always been a good street for commerce. Not too fancy to scare off the working folk, but respectable enough that people with coin feel comfortable shopping here."

The interior was exactly what Justin expected. It was a solid, functional retail space with good sight lines, adequate storage, and enough room to display merchandise without feeling cramped. The upper level offered comfortable living quarters for their group, complete with proper beds, a functional kitchen, and a small common area with a fireplace.

"It's not luxurious," Mollusk admitted, "but it's honest space for honest business. The previous tenant ran a successful tailoring shop here for fifteen years before retiring."

"Why did they leave?" Lila asked.

"Age caught up with old Fergus. His fingers aren't as... steady as they used to be, shall we say. But he spoke highly of the location when he gave notice. Very highly indeed."

Rinna was practically bouncing with enthusiasm. "The foot traffic is perfect. Busy enough to attract customers, but not so crowded that people can't stop and browse."

"And the neighbors?" Justin inquired.

"Good folk," Mollusk replied. "Cobbler to the left, Alchemist to the right. Quiet businesses that complement each other well. No taverns or gambling dens to attract trouble."

Rita, who had been quietly observing, whispered something to Lila in Daelorian.

"She says it feels safe," Lila translated with a nod of approval.

"What about the rent?" Justin asked.

"Two gold monthly for a three-year lease, a gold and eighty for five years. This includes the retail space, living quarters, and the storage room in the back. Water access to a private well is shared with the cobbler next door, but he's never been a problem about it."

Justin found himself nodding. The space was a cut above everything they had seen so far: solid, practical, if slightly premium-priced. The location offered decent visibility, and the rent seemed reasonable for what they were getting.

Most importantly, it felt... right. Nothing in Mr. Mollusk's demeanor put him off; however, Justin's inability to read him suggested that the Merchant likely possessed some skill or boon protecting him from direct observation.

"What do you think?" Justin asked his companions quietly while Mollusk stepped away to retrieve some papers from a desk in the corner.

"It's exactly what we need," Rinna whispered enthusiastically. "Not too fancy, not too shabby. Perfect for establishing ourselves."

Tamsin nodded approvingly. "It feels safe enough for Mudside. Rita seems comfortable, and that's enough for me."

"The location is strategic," Alistair added quietly. "Close to our contacts, but not so near as to draw unwanted attention."

"And the rent is reasonable for what we're getting," Lila agreed. "It's the clear winner."

Even Ilsa, who had been largely silent during all the negotiations, gave a small nod. "Better than I expected for Mudside. It could work."

The consensus was clear. Justin felt his confidence building—this was the right choice.

"I think this could work well," Justin said to Mollusk. "Shall we discuss the terms?"

Mollusk's eyes lit up. "Excellent! I have the lease agreement right here."

Justin began to review the document with Alistair and Lila. After a moment, Lila nodded.

"Looks straightforward. We just need to watch for the cancellation fee; a year's rent is quite steep."

"Standard practice," Mollusk replied.

It seemed predatory, but Justin found himself believing him. "It appears you know what you have here, Mr. Mollusk, but two crowns is quite pricey for a three-year term. Offer us the five-year term for three years, and I'll sign right away and give three months of rent upfront."

"Unfortunately," Mr. Mollusk said, "the terms are quite firm as a matter of policy. This space has recently become vacant, so I see no reason to rush."

Justin nodded. Although he was concealing his own enthusiasm well, the same could not be said for the others. However, there was little to be done about it.

"Well," Justin said, "if no one has any objections..."

Lila nodded. "Let's do it."

Mollusk smiled and dipped a quill into an ink bottle. "When you're ready, Mr. Talemaker."

Justin took the quill and reached for the dotted line.

But then a warning flashed in his interface.

[PRUDENT FORESIGHT ACTIVATED]

The business decision you are about to make will likely prove catastrophic to your interests. Strongly recommend reconsidering.

Justin's hand froze halfway to the paper. The certainty he'd felt just moments before evaporated, replaced by a cold knot of unease in his stomach.

His eyes fell on the lease agreement, and he began scanning the terms more carefully. Most of it seemed standard: rent, duration, maintenance responsibilities.

But there, buried in the small print near the bottom, was a line that made his blood run cold.

"What's this about a twenty silver monthly security fee?" Justin asked, pointing to the clause.

Mollusk's friendly smile flickered for an instant. "Oh, that. It's standard protection for businesses in this area. The local security association ensures that nothing unfortunate happens to your establishment or inventory."

"Security association?" Lila asked. "I didn't notice that line until just now when Justin pointed it out..."

He chuckled. "That's how these contracts are; it's easy to miss things. That said, it's just a precaution," Mollusk said, waving his hand dismissively. "Mudside can be unpredictable. This arrangement guarantees peace of mind."

"And what if we decline this... security?" Alistair asked.

Mollusk's expression grew uncomfortable. "I wouldn't recommend that. The neighborhood can be quite volatile for businesses that operate without proper protection."

Justin felt the pieces clicking into place. "You're talking about a protection racket. Pay the gang, or they'll ensure we have problems."

"I prefer to think of it as comprehensive insurance," Mollusk replied, though his nervous laugh betrayed him. "It's just the cost of doing business. Do you really think the City Watch patrols this neighborhood? Mudside must protect its own."

"On second thought," Justin said slowly, setting down the quill. "We need more time to consider our options."

Mollusk's friendly demeanor shifted almost imperceptibly. "Time? But I thought you were ready to proceed. The lease terms are quite fair, and properties like this don't stay available long."

"Nevertheless," Justin said firmly, "we prefer to be thorough in our business decisions, especially when they involve additional parties."

"I'm afraid that might not be possible," Mollusk said, his voice hardening. "My associates don't appreciate it when potential partners waste their time with unnecessary delays."

As if on cue, the bell above the front door chimed, and three large men entered. From the short swords at their waists, they weren't browsing customers. The lead man, with a pockmarked face and a yellow smile, was a Level 10 Warrior.

"Everything all right here, Mr. Mollusk?" the Warrior asked.

"Just discussing lease terms," Mollusk replied casually. "I was explaining to these folks how important it is to act decisively in business."

Justin assessed the challengers before him. They posed no threat—not to a man who had slain drakes and negotiated with goddesses. His main concern was provoking a larger conflict and making an enemy of the gang they belonged to.

With Insightful Gaze, he noted that they were also reluctant to escalate the situation, especially with three of them armed.

He realized he could defuse the situation simply by talking.

He shifted his Affinity to Morvath's Aspect, feeling the chilling presence of the God of Death envelop him like a shroud.

"Gentlemen," he said coldly, "I believe you've made an error in judgment."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop. The Barbarian, who had likely intimidated dozens of people in similar situations, actually stepped back. His companions shifted nervously, suddenly unsure about their presence.

"We have no quarrels with you," Justin continued, his voice barely above a whisper yet resonating throughout the space. "Let us part ways before things become hopelessly... complicated."

One of the smaller enforcers was already backing toward the door, his face pale. "Maybe we should—"

"Stand your ground!" Mollusk snapped, though his voice cracked slightly.

Justin smiled coldly. "Mr. Mollusk, I suggest you reconsider your approach to customer service. I take a dim view of... poor hospitality."

That was enough. The three toughs practically stumbled over each other in their rush for the door, their earlier confidence evaporated.

"Everyone out," Justin said quietly to his companions, not breaking eye contact with Mollusk, who was practically paralyzed with fear. "We have other... appointments to keep."

As they filed toward the exit, Mollusk called after them with forced bravado, "You'll regret this! I'm an important man here. You'll find out soon enough!"

Justin paused at the threshold, his cold gaze meeting the landlord's frightened eyes. "Perhaps. But I suggest a truce." Justin smiled. "Less... messy that way. Agreed?"

He took the Merchant's silence for assent as he let the door jingle closed behind him.

Once they were safely back on Copper Lane, Justin stopped channeling his Affinity, and warmth returned to his features.

The women outside the party looked as if they had just seen a ghost, especially Tamsin, who was as pale as a sheet.

"What gave it away?" Alistair finally asked after they turned a corner. "The space seemed legitimate, and I didn't see that clause, just like Lila. It's almost as if it appeared out of nowhere."

Lila's eyes widened. "I suspect some less reputable landlords and agents use enchanted ink. It remains invisible during negotiations but becomes legible hours after signing." She looked at Justin meaningfully. "Somehow, you perceived it, and the act of perception itself rendered it visible to all."

Justin shook his head, not wanting to reveal his boon. "I'm not entirely sure what happened. I just felt something was very wrong." He shrugged. "Sometimes the best business decision is the one you don't make."

"So," Rinna said, trying to regain her usual optimism, "I suppose we're back to choosing between the first two options? I'm sorry about that. Trust me, I had no idea."

Justin studied her for a moment and saw that this much was true. She was still young and inexperienced, a little too enthusiastic and naïve. It became clear to him that she was simply excited to start her job; she wasn't trying to deceive them.

"It's all right. This is how you learn, Rinna—by making mistakes. The important thing is to correct them."

"Of course, Mr. Talemaker. I'll be more careful next time."

It was good that she was willing to improve, but he would have to keep an eye on her to see if the pattern persisted.

Justin nodded, noting the late afternoon light. They had time to visit one or two more places, but they would have to be walk-ins. Alternatively, they could wait until tomorrow, as his Prudent Foresight boon only worked once a day.

Yet, another idea began to form.

"Let's head back to the last one," he said. "I have an idea."

"You can't seriously be considering that alley," Tamsin scoffed. "It's... not a good neighborhood."

"Perhaps," Justin replied. "But I read Szara well and think we can reach a favorable agreement."

"I'm in favor of that area," Alistair said. "For the reasons stated before. It would be nice to conclude this business before the sun goes down."

"Lead the way," Lila said.

Justin nodded and began heading in that direction.

They found Szara exactly where they had left her, her head buried in a ledger book as if hoping to discover an answer she couldn't quite find. Justin noticed the slight tension in her shoulders when they entered, a posture that suggested she had hoped for their return while trying not to appear desperate.

"Back so soon?" she asked, her voice neutral. "I trust the other properties did not meet your... expectations?"

"Something like that," Justin replied, approaching the counter where she stood. "I'd like to make you an offer. Somewhat unorthodox."

Her yellow eyes narrowed slightly, and Justin caught the flicker of interest she tried to suppress. "I am listening."

"Three gold crowns," Justin said without preamble. "For a one-month tenure. Full payment upfront, with an option to extend. However, if we don't like it, we can exit without any penalty."

Szara's neck frill flared in surprise, possibly even shock. "Three crowns? For a single month? That is... more than double my asking price."

"I know you've struggled to rent this place," Justin continued, his Insightful Gaze reading the micro-expressions on her reptilian features. The slight dilation of her pupils, the way her forked tongue briefly appeared... they were signs of financial stress mingling with suspicion. "And I suspect you have debts coming due soon."

Her scales darkened slightly, a reaction he hadn't seen before. "What makes you think that?"

"Call it an educated guess," Justin said gently. "Here's my offer. We pay three crowns for one month. And if we choose to extend, we will grant you three months' rent up front for a fuller term, no questions asked. Moreover, we won't trouble you for repairs or assistance if any... unsavory situations arise. We're capable of handling our own problems." He paused meaningfully. "And no hidden 'protection fees.'"

Szara's clawed fingers drummed silently against the counter as she considered. Justin could almost see her weighing her options—the immediate cash influx against the uncertainty of what these strange tenants might bring to her property.

"You speak of unsavory situations as if you expect them," she observed.

"In our line of work, it's better to be prepared," Alistair said diplomatically. "We prefer landlords who value discretion as much as we do."

"And what line of work would that be?" Szara asked, though her tone suggested she might prefer not to know the full answer.

"Import and export," Justin said smoothly. "Specialty goods. Sometimes the hours are irregular, and our clientele can be... particular about privacy."

The varkiss studied their group for a long moment, her serpentine gaze moving from Justin's expensive attire to Alistair's weaponry to the women who had remained strategically quiet during the negotiation.

"Three gold crowns," she repeated slowly. "One month."

"That's correct."

"And if you choose to stay beyond that month, you pay three months' rent?"

"Correct. At the end of the first month, we negotiate a new arrangement at your original rate—one crown forty per month. No further haggling, no attempts to renegotiate downward."

Szara's eyes glittered, and Justin caught the moment when avarice overcame caution. The immediate payment would solve whatever financial crisis she faced, and the promise of future income at her asking price was too tempting to refuse.

"You understand," she said carefully, "that if you bring trouble to my establishment, our arrangement ends immediately, regardless of payment?"

"Understood," Justin replied. "We're not looking for trouble, just a place to conduct business quietly."

"Very well," Szara said, extending one scaled hand. "You have a deal: one month, three gold crowns, paid in advance, with the option for renegotiation later at the quoted price, with three months due up front."

Justin nodded in agreement. "That's right."

Szara rose from her seat. "Allow me to draw up the contract."

She was gone for ten minutes before returning and placing the document before them. Justin, Alistair, and Lila examined it. It appeared to be a boilerplate contract, with numbers scratched out and rewritten where necessary. The document was not long or complicated, and the cancellation fee a mere three month's rent, not twelve as it had been with Mollusk.

"No invisible ink?" Justin asked, watching her reaction closely.

The look of affront on her face was unmistakable. "I do not use cheaters' ink. I run a respectable business."

Justin detected no deception in her words. "I believe you."

After exchanging glances with Alistair and Lila, both of whom nodded in agreement, Justin finally signed the dotted line. To his surprise, Lila added her signature beside his.

"It's a joint venture," she explained.

He smiled. "Welcome aboard."

Alistair refrained from signing; Justin assumed that, due to his duties as a Templar, he likely wasn't allowed to.

Justin reached into his coin purse and counted out the gold, noting how Szara's composure cracked slightly at the sight of the coins. She quickly gathered them, as if afraid he might change his mind.

"Thank you," she said, her words sincere.

"When can we take possession? I noticed the date is today."

"Immediately," Szara replied, her needle-like teeth flashing in a friendly smile. "It's a good place. If you need anything, I'm not far away. I can check in with you in a few days, if that works for you. Just to see how things are going."

There was nothing nefarious in the offer—just a good landlord checking in to see if her tenants needed anything.

"We would appreciate that," Justin said.

Lila nodded first. "It's the best space we've seen, and at least we know we're not walking into another protection racket."

"Yes, you need to be careful with those," Szara said. "I didn't mention it earlier, but that's what I meant about the advantages of having a private space. It's a significant advantage in Mudside."

"The location serves our purposes," Alistair agreed. "And the privacy will prove invaluable."

Rinna was practically glowing with excitement. "It's perfect! So much room for expansion, and the terms are more than fair."

Even Tamsin, who had been skeptical about the neighborhood, gave a grudging nod. "If you think we can make it work, Mr. Talemaker, then I trust your judgment. And if nothing else, it's better than being cheated by that Mollusk fellow."

Ilsa simply shrugged, but her expression suggested she approved of the aggressive negotiating tactics. "At least we know where we stand."

Szara produced a ring of three keys from a pouch at her waist. "This one is for the front door, this one for the back, and the third is for the vault. That one's enchanted for security, so please don't try to get in without using that key. The space is yours, Mr. Talemaker. I trust you will find it suitable for your endeavors."

As they concluded their business, Szara left.

[500 experience gained. Current experience: 24,075/29,000.]

Justin nodded in satisfaction at the well-earned reward. They had secured a nice storefront after careful assessment. It provided a base of operations, ample space for everyone, and, most importantly, a foothold in Belmora that came without strings attached to local gangs or powerful families.

It wasn't perfect—the location was still questionable—but it was theirs. A place to plan, to build something real, and to continue their mission against Valdrik.

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