Free Web NovelChapter 32: Pip? Someone Named Pip? Really?
The money changer stared at him for a long moment, clearly weighing his options. Then he sighed and nodded.
"Fine, fine. Eight Imperial gold per ten Siren. But only because I like your face."
You like my money. There’s a difference.
The exchange was completed quickly, and Nacho walked away with a pouch of Imperial coins that felt lighter than it should have been. Still, it was enough to get him started.
He wandered deeper into the city, taking note of the layout as he went. The streets were arranged in a roughly circular pattern, radiating outward from the central fortress like spokes on a wheel. The buildings got progressively shabbier the further he went from the center, transitioning from stone to wood to something that looked like dried mud packed around wooden frames.
Slums exist everywhere, apparently. Good to know.
He found an inn about halfway between the market square and the outer edges of the city. It was called The Copper Kettle, a two-story building with a faded sign and a front door that looked like it had been kicked in at least twice in the past month.
Perfect.
The interior was dim and smoky, lit by oil lamps that hadn’t been cleaned in what looked like years. A handful of patrons sat at scattered tables, drinking ale and playing cards. The bartender was a massive woman with arms like ham hocks and a face that suggested she’d seen worse than him and hadn’t been impressed.
"Room for the night," Nacho said.
"Four copper. Breakfast is extra."
He paid and received a key attached to a wooden tag with the number seven carved into it. The room was upstairs, small and bare, with a bed that sagged in the middle and a window overlooking an alley that smelled like garbage and regret.
Home sweet home.
He sat down on the bed, ignoring the way it creaked ominously under his weight, and pulled up his status screen.
[Status]
Name: Nacho
True Name: None
Age: 0
Race: Evolving Tentacle Monster
Physique: None
Bloodline: None
Level 22 : 1,582 / 2,200 Experience
Evolution Condition: [Reach Level 50]
—HP & MP
[HP: 2,060 / 2,060 (Regen 10/s)]
[MP: 6,190 / 6,190 (Regen 1/s)]
—Attributes:
[Strength: 145]
[Stamina: 206]
[Agility: 223]
[Perception: 121]
[Mana: 619]
[Charm: 47]
—Special Ultimate Ability:
[Talent Stealing: When you use your tentacles to perform a lewd act on someone, you steal one of their Talents and keep it permanently. The victim retains their Talent. Significantly reduced effect on Non-Humanoids. You can hold unlimited Talents.]
—Talents: Titan Body (Legendary), All Weapon Mastery (Legendary), Dagger Duchess (Legendary), Storm Manipulation (Epic), Mana Enhancement (Epic), Combat Precognition (Epic), Mind Fortress (Epic), Apex Senses (Epic), Ocean Mastery (Rare), Voice of Bewitchment (Rare), Water Manipulation (Rare), Phantom (Rare), Merchant’s Gaze (Uncommon), Thread Manipulation (Uncommon), Bioluminescence (Common)
Same as before. No changes from the trip up.
He closed the screen and leaned back against the wall, letting his Mind Fortress expand outward to skim the thoughts of the other patrons downstairs.
—cheating bastard, I know he’s hiding cards—
—rent’s due next week, might have to sell the horse—
—wonder if that new guy’s got anything worth stealing—
That last one made him smile. The thought had come from a scrawny kid sitting near the door, nursing a mug of water and watching the room with the particular intensity of someone who made their living taking things that didn’t belong to them.
A pickpocket. How nostalgic.
He’d dealt with plenty of those in his old life. Usually on the giving end rather than the receiving end, but the principles were the same. Recognize the threat, neutralize it before it becomes a problem.
Or, alternatively, use it to his advantage.
He stood up from the bed and headed back downstairs. The scrawny kid’s eyes tracked him as he crossed the room to the bar.
"Ale," he said to the bartender.
"Two copper."
He paid and took his drink to a table near the kid’s position. Sat down with his back to the wall, watching the room while appearing to focus on his ale.
The kid was good. Nacho had to give him that. His movements were subtle, his attention seemingly fixed on his own drink while his peripheral vision swept the room constantly. He was probably around fifteen or sixteen, with the kind of gaunt face that came from irregular meals and the kind of quick eyes that came from staying alive in a city that didn’t care about him.
Reminds me of me, actually. Before the cartel picked me up.
The kid made his move about ten minutes later, sliding out of his seat and crossing the room toward the exit. His path took him directly past Nacho’s table, close enough to brush against him.
Nacho’s tentacle, invisible and coiled around his waist like a belt, caught the kid’s hand before it could reach his coin pouch.
The kid froze. His eyes went wide.
"Nice try," Nacho said quietly. "Sit down."
The kid hesitated for just a moment, clearly weighing his options. Then he slid into the seat across from Nacho, his face carefully blank.
"I wasn’t doing nothing."
"Sure you weren’t." Nacho released his hand. "What’s your name?" freewebnσvel.cøm
"Why do you care?"
"Because I might have work for you. The kind that pays better than picking pockets." frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓
The kid’s expression flickered. Interest, quickly suppressed behind wariness.
"What kind of work?"
"Information. I’m new to the city. Need someone who knows how things work around here. Names, places, who to avoid, who to bribe." Nacho leaned back in his chair. "You seem like you know your way around."
"Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t."
"I’ll pay five silver for a tour. Ten if the information’s actually useful."
The kid’s poker face cracked. Five silver was probably more than he made in a week picking pockets. Ten was a fortune.
"Name’s Pip," he said finally. "And mister, for ten silver, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know."
Pip. Of course it’s Pip. Why wouldn’t it be Pip.
"Alright, Pip. Let’s start with the basics. Who runs this city?"
Pip’s eyes darted around the room, checking for eavesdroppers, before he leaned in close.
"You really are new, aren’t you?"
