Artyom walked out of the inn after paying for his dinner, satisfied with both the meal and the information he gleaned about the gallivanting Great Hero. With the presence of Earth culture in this World confirmed, and seeing how it was centered around this hero, Artyom’s next step would be to confirm if he really was from Earth and how he got here. To that effect, he had a plan in mind.

The sun was setting even further in the sky, but the shops had their lights on indicating they were still open for business.

If he was quick enough, he’d be able to make it to one in particular. Artyom’s plan hinged on meeting with the hero and confirming his suspicions. Of course, he had no idea what kind of person he was. He could be a paragon of virtue who would be happy to work with Artyom, or a sadistic monster that would see Artyom as a threat that needed to be disposed of. The chances of the latter was small, but Artyom didn’t want to take any risks, thus his plan. He’d need to create a way to meet with the hero that showed Artyom off as beneficial to keep around and severely discouraged murdering him on the spot. Tying up the hero and interrogating him was supposedly the “safest” option, but Artyom didn’t know what it would take to keep him restrained and impotent. Besides, that wasn’t his style.

Artyom made his way towards the inner mercantile ring and found the shop he was looking for, and by a stroke of luck, it was still open. He opened its front door and walked in. A bell chimed as he did so, alerting the woman inside that she had a visitor. She quickly dropped what she was holding and strode over to her latest customer.

“Hello, welcome to Aspa’s Tailor Shop! I’m Aspa, the owner.” She had dark brown hair mixed with noticeable strands of white. Despite the forming wrinkles on her face, she gave off an air of vibrancy that seemed to even energize Artyom by second-hand exposure.

“Hi, I’m Artyom,” he introduced himself. “You wouldn’t happen to be open to having me fitted for a suit at this hour, would you?”

“Hmm, it’s getting late, but I should be able to fit you in. Get it? Fit you into a suit?”

Artyom couldn’t help but chuckle. It seemed as if making bad puns was a common pastime in this World.

“We have a selection of suits for different occasions, each at different price ranges. Is there anything in particular you’d like?”

Artyom looked into his bag and counted out eight gold coins left, alongside a smattering of lower denominations.

“I’ll need something cheap but will look impressive to a noble. My budget is eight gold coins.”

“Upfront, I like that! Are you trying to get a job with one? We have some suits for rental too for much cheaper.”

Artyom considered the offer. “If I do rent, will it be noticeable? Especially to a noble? I don’t think you’ll do alterations on a rental, so it could stick out.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got a skill for that. If you’re looking for a job with them, you’d want a suit that makes you look good, but not as good as them, so they don’t think you’re there for something else.”

“I happen to be going for ‘something else’. You sound like you know a lot about what they look for, do you have something meant for a social visit or a party?”

“Of course I know all about them, boy!” said Aspa in a fit of indignation. “I’ve been servicing the town and its nobility for over 35 years! If anyone knows what they like, it’s me. And to answer your question, I have just the thing.”

Aspa walked away briskly and returned after a few seconds with a large three-piece suit. It was charcoal black with a pinstripe pattern, but with a much larger neckhole that put most plunging necklines to shame. The inner shirt was of a rich royal blue, and had an intricate pattern of gold stitched into it, similar to that on all of the priestess robes Artyom had seen so far. Those patterns seemed to replace the need for a tie.

“This suit is commonly worn by the nobility when they attend sermons. But in recent years, they’ve taken to wearing it to anything important in hopes that the Goddess blesses them. I can rent it out to you for 5 gold a day, or you could buy it for 100.”

Artyom’s eyes bulged at that price. He could afford to rent it for a day, but buying it was out of the question. His plan required having it for two days, but they wouldn’t be consecutive, so he could do something to earn the money for later. In the end, he nodded his head and decided to rent it.

“You can come along tomorrow to pick up the suit for whatever you need it for and pay then,” said Aspa.

“Actually, I was hoping to rent it now,” replied Artyom.

“I don’t think you’re going to get a meeting with a noble at this hour unless they’re expecting you, but if they are, then you honestly should’ve gotten this much earlier,” chided Aspa. “Well no matter, it’s good you got here before I closed. Just put it on and I’ll begin the tailoring.”

Artyom stepped into a changing room and replaced his peasant garb with the suit. He couldn’t help but feel like he was a clown wearing a much too complicated costume too many sizes too large. When he stepped out, Aspa circumambulated him, making sure that everything was properly buttoned and tucked in. After deeming Artyom’s self-dressing skills satisfactory, she waved her hand and simply said “[Perfect Full Body Fit]!” The suit quickly began to shrink with Artyom still inside it, right until it reached the state described by that skill. Artyom moved his limbs around and felt no chafing or discomfort, even around his more sensitive parts.

“Wow, that’s one heck of a skill,” said Artyom, very thoroughly impressed. “It just did your entire job for you.”

“Of course it did, that’s what it’s for,” said Aspa, somewhat annoyed. “It’s not like everyone can do it, I had to work with much smaller scale Skills before I earned this!”

“Of course, sorry for doubting your hard work,” apologized Artyom, deciding that it would be easier to do so than try and make sense of this World’s work culture.

“That’s alright, dear. That will be 5 gold coins, and you’ll need to return the suit before this time tomorrow if you don’t want it to be another 5. I have a Skill that keeps track of what suits I’ve rented out, so I have to warn you that even if you forget about it, I won’t!”

Artyom nodded and paid the fee. Like the other shopkeepers, Aspa gave the coins a lookover before accepting it.

“Hmm, I don’t think I’ve seen coins like these before, but [Check Payment] says these are enough.”

So that explained it. Artyom saw skills that calculated change, why wouldn’t there be one to check if offered money was enough? Because then there’d be nothing left for the Skill user to do! It could have something to do with the number of simple minded people Artyom had met so far, or maybe such people were able to compete with everyone else because Skills leveled the playing field? Artyom didn’t concern himself with it too much. He’d be happy as long as the next person he would be talking to was also dense.

Artyom thanked Aspa for the suit and left for his next destination- the inner ring. The sun had set even more and night was beginning to fall on the town. The townsfolk finally realized that the day was ending, and made their way to their homes or taverns, ready to settle down where there was more light. Such a sentiment would hopefully help Artyom at his next destination.

He made his way towards the inner ring in a brisk walk, passing through the rest of the mercantile district and middle class housing. Along the way, he pulled over a random man.

“Hey you, who’s the biggest noble in town?” asked Artyom.

“Huh? It’s Lord Cabbafor,” he replied.

“Thanks,” said Artyom, leaving the man without so much as an explanation. He shrugged and went back to what he was doing.

Artyom soon arrived at a gatehouse blocking off the inner circle of mansions. A single guard manned the booth in front of the gate, wishing he was somewhere brighter. In other words, the perfect target. It was showtime.