My dingy shoes tramped over the clean brown carpet, and I was forced to remove them by a dissatisfied guard on the corridor of the first floor. It resembled an inn more than a guild, and doors decked in gemstones of varying prices decided the weight of the mission. Garlan skipped the door with the green gem and then with the blue one, finally choosing to enter the one with the glittering yellow stone. The red and violet doors were ostentatious, having a guard for each door, or probably the jewel, because the embellishments were darn expensive.

The mana lamps on the ceiling illuminated the long corridor devoid of windows even at the corners. The holes on the roof leading to the antic provided ample ventilation, but the air felt stuffy, nonetheless. Exotic paintings lingered on the walls flanking the narrow corridor, along with whimsical art that might have made sense to famous modern art critics. I was, as always, ignorant about the ways of art, and neither was I ever interested in appreciating such pointless deeds. Once you lived long enough, everything was plagiarism. So, I could sue every modern mortal for copyright infringement.

Garlan knocked on the wood-like door, which was much sturdier, and probably resistant to degradation owing to the [Umbra] spell of an experienced mage. Little did the first floor resemble the floor beneath or the general edifice as a while, but it wasn’t much of a surprise. The door opened, and we tramped inside, the brown carpet flooring extending to the floor within.

“Greetings, Ulley,” Garlan stood still, watching the man behind the table with respect. Maluich followed suit, standing beside Garlan, while I leaned against the wall, the decorative wall lamp forcing me away from the door. Bookshelves flanked the left wall, and stacks of papers lay organized on the racks on my right. It quite resembled a nobleman’s office, but the merchant before us wasn’t one. None of them were, for the noble’s deemed the merchants beneath their status. Though, most of their money came from these lowly men anyway.

The man behind the table nodded, removing his bag hat that covered the bun atop his head. A scar spaned along his cheeks, but it was covered with his beard that spread to his ears. The excess hair only glorified his appearance, despite his apparent distasteful gaze. His houppelande, festooned with glittering stones of varied length, was black in color, rivaling that of nobles in glamor.

Ulley was a strange name because it was more like an address to high-ranked people.

“Cameru, please,” the man said in his deep voice and pointed to the chairs opposite him. There were only two, so I didn’t move even when his eyes brushed past me.

Sure enough. Ulley was a high-ranked merchant in the guild. I updated my glossary of the world again. As you might have guessed already, I didn’t have any formal education, nor did I read any books to garner information about this world or any others. Whatever vast knowledge I had was my own, crafted through my own experiences and exploits and not through a filtered perspective of the mortals.

Obnoxious I am, but I could have never learned [Undead] if I wasn’t.

That was why fantasy books of the modern world had been a change of pace for me, for I had touched the books by mortals for the first time after becoming [Undead]. And the craze for stories hadn’t died down. At least for now.

“What brings you here, Maluich?” The man asked once they took a seat on the chairs.

“Mercenary Garlan has hired me, Cameru,” Maluich said, nudging Garlan to speak up. Was he scared of the Ulley?

“I want to commission a quest,” Garlan said, as confident as ever. That man was a mouse backstage, but once he took the pedestal, he was nothing less than a poised bastard. “We are holding a fair in the Academy, so we would like to invite merchants from the guild to set up their booths.”

“Peddler merchants?” he asked, clearly interested in the prospect.

“Yes,” Garlan said. “We want to sell goods at a lower price for obvious reasons. All we need are the goods and the merchants, and we will handle the rest flawlessly.”

“Interesting,” the man leaned on his chair, his hand reaching beneath the table. I doubt he was touching his unmentionables, but it certainly seemed that way. “Do you have a permission letter from the Mage Congregation?”

“We do,” Garlan fished out the paper after scratching his stubble. “The Academ signed the deed.”

This meant Yura would get kicked out of the Academy for holding a fair without discussing the logistics with the rest of the Congregation. In the worst-case scenario, she might get stripped of her mage rights granted by the Congregation. But this was what Beth was aiming for all along. If Yura couldn’t disobey the King, force her to give up her post. As easy as that.

As far as Yura got kicked out and the fair became a success, Beth would have managed to buy two loaves of bread with eight shins.

Cameru scanned the letter briefly before placing it on his organized table after removing the wrinkles. “How many merchants do you need?”

“Around twenty,” Garlan said flatly. “But on the condition that Maluich picks the merchants himself.”

“Oh,” Cameru rested his chin on his hands and glanced at the man in question. “But he is the most infamous merchant in the capital.”

“But the most efficient, Ulley,” Garlan smiled, switching to a respectful tone, should he offend the man.

Cameru was amused. “All right. What is the payout?”

“We are taking nine percent of the profits from the merchants. The rest will naturally land in your hands, so you can divide it between the merchants as you deem fit,” Garlan said, laying down a few stacks of notes before him. “Five hundred shins for the quest fee.”

“Nine percent,” Cameru stared at the man, “Isn’t that too much?”

“It’s hardly sufficient to buy some manpower from the mercenary guild, Cameru,” Garlan said, clearly conflicted at the prospect of going any lower. “Even if we earn ten thousand shins, we are hardly getting five hundred shins. And we have to pay six thousand shins for hiring the manpower. Going any lower is hard, Cameru.”

That man and his math. I abstained from laughing out loud as Maluich nudged Garlan. “It’s nine hundred shins, Garlan!” Maluich said, gritting his teeth.

“Fair enough,” the Ulley laughed, moving his baggy green hat away from the table. “We’ll adjust the rest from our end. Good luck with your venture, Garlan. I’ll post an official quest request and let Maluich handle the rest. If there are no people from the nobility, I will drop by the fair.”

“Many thanks, Ulley. But please make the request unofficial and discreet. We want it to be a surprise to the commoners.” Garlan said politely. “And you can rest assured. The nobility isn’t on our list of invitees.”

“Not a problem on my end. Then I’ll let Maluich alone handle the deed instead of requesting the entire merchant guild,” Cameru glanced Maluich, who nodded in haste. The Ulley’s eyes fell on me, and he asked, “Who is that man?”

“Just an acquaintance, Ulley,” Garlan skipped the question. “It’s his first time in the guild, so he isn’t familiar with the customs.”

The Ulley nodded, but he was probably expecting a bow or greeting from me. I gave him none and followed Garlan and his merchant friend out of the room. The guards didn’t stop us from wearing our shoes at the entrance, but he did not spare us glare for our dingy footwear. What else did he expect? Boots were meant to be dirty.

“What next, Garlan?” I asked as soon as we were back to the entrance of the guild.

“Maluich will handle the rest with the merchants,” Garlan said, flashing the stack of notes at the merchant with a grin. “Tomorrow night is the day we need you alive. So, you can postpone dying or getting locked in the gallows till then. Food stalls are a must–“

“What do you take me for, bastard?” Maluich snarled, already on his way out of the guild. We followed him noiselessly, but Garlan’s heavy gaits didn’t help much. “I know what makes a good fair, and I damn know what makes a good profit. My nose exists to smell the rotting stench of easy money, and your fair is undoubtedly one, despite the hasty cranky methods your hand is employing. Relying on my experience alone–“

“Sure, sure,” Garlan covered his ears with his palms and kicked the old man’s feet. “Don’t start talking before you get the things done. We’ll visit the festive store to handle the booth business. Let’s hope Cair and her troupers manage to get enough to help us pay the reward money.”

“Lady Gladiata might give us more than necessary, Garlan,” I patted his shoulder. “That’s what I am worried about. Her friends might come banging our door asking for returns. “

“True,” Garlan rubbed his hair in annoyance. “Either way, the troupers are good enough to conceal their identities, so let’s hope for the best. Even I have never seen them, for they rarely show their faces in public. All I remember is seeing two masked bastards with blithe hand skills. Something pocketers would have.”

Maluich had already walked away from us, not interested in indulging in more conversation with his benefactors. The bad ones, of course. And Garlan was grinning with the stack of money in his hands, proud at having beaten a crafty merchant at his own game. Beth had done the job, but well, I wanted to see my bread lad drown himself in pride before startling him awake.

We tramped through the cold streets as the sun peeked through the dark clouds of the winter. There hadn’t been snowstorms in the capital for long, except for mild hailstorms that never warranted any attention. Some commoner residences outside the capital or closer to the shanty towns always suffered the brunt since straw roofs were much less resilient. Nonetheless, there hadn’t been stronger hailstorms for years now, and ice mages had started liking the winters much to the envy of every mortal. And perhaps one undead. Of course, I could always start learning those passive skills, but for now, I was good enough with being overpowered. It was a crime to be bored in the long run.

“Do you know where we can order the booths, bread lad?” Garlan asked as we reached the market plaza. Shops lined on either side of the streets filled with commuters lesser than usual, thanks to the ongoing tournaments. The Academy collected entry fees to the arena, but it was less than ten shins, so they often earned enough spectators for even commoners could afford a loaf of bread in the capital. If you couldn’t, then shanty towns outside were the only way out.

“There’s a festive shop around the next corner, past that vegetable vendor,” I said, pointing to my usual commute from the manor. “They handle most of the decorations during the ruler’s birthday, but I’m not sure of the booths. It doesn’t look like it will rain anytime soon again, so a few stands might do the job.”

“Stands, huh,” Garlan touched his stubbed with a thoughtful expression. “But we need the aesthetic feels. For the stands, how about we steal the tables from the Academy? The fair is on Beruf, so there won’t be beautiful girls waiting on us. Drape a few embroidered or plain clothing over the tables, and we have the stands ready. For the booth, we can use vendor tents,” he grinned while I nodded in approval.

“How about you invite some of your entertainers from the guild?” I asked. “Open gambling might sit well with the commoners, and perhaps a few drunken brawls in the evening with money at stake might work too.”

“Now, that will earn us some good money and audience,” Garlan laughed. “Some slaughter or not, let’s go all out to earn those shins! There’s no harm in mooching some gains off the Academ’s party. I will fight if needed. But what if the Mage Congregation tries to foil our plans?”

“The forged document will handle the job,” I smiled, pulling my coat closer. “The Mage Congregation cannot swallow their words, so they won’t try to interrupt us. The Escavs are already in a mess, so they would be the last people inclined to help the Congregation. Somehow, everything is flowing too smoothly, so I’m feeling paranoid.”

“No worries, my bread lad,” Garlan patted my shoulder. “If something goes wrong, let’s resort to man-hunting. At least that might scare off the arseholes daring to interrupt our fair.”

“Sure, and lose all our customers,” I rolled my eyes as I ambled in the direction of the store. “But where is the fun without obstruction? No rogues win too easy, Garlan.”

“I thought you were an exception, bastard!” he jogged to catch up with me.

I was not, for I enjoyed the process and not the result.