"..."
The young man looked at the people waiting in front of the building, and indeed, some of them looked to be wounded or sick, so it really seemed like it could be a clinic...
"Is it closed because you are touring me around the place...?"
Viria asked cautiously, trying to not sound as if he had something against that kind of behavior.
"Of course not. It's just that it's about time for the midday meal, so the guards in charge went for a break."
The helpful guard laughed and shook his head at the question before giving out an explanation that wasn't much better.
...All at the same time? And aren't there any prisoners with soul artifacts that aid in healing to step in for the time being...? Some of them look to be in seriously bad shape... Leaving them like that doesn't sound responsible at all...
Viria really had to stop himself from saying all of those things outright.
Each place had its own rules, and questioning the rules of a place he didn't even spend a full day in wasn't very smart.
Especially considering that the place was a prison, and the person he almost complained about was the guard in charge of reinforcing the rules.
And so they passed the swaying, sometimes barely conscious people clutching the green bills with their shaking hands and moved on.
The last workshop for the day was the only other blacksmith workshop.
The first difference between the first one and the one in front of which Bossac and Viria arrived, was that the guard for the place was standing outside.
"Bossie, taking it easy today? Lucky."
The guard by the blacksmith was rather tall and skinny... actually, he wasn't particularly tall, but rather his limbs and torso were looking kind of stretched out.
The best word to describe the feeling that Viria felt at the sight of him was – uncanny valley.
Was that guy really a human...?
"Can you really complain though? You have the easiest duty on the floor, only the prisoners who are about to be relocated to the second floor can't access this place."
Bossac snickered, motioning at the door with his chin.
"But it's far away from any food. What is the use of easy stress-free duty if I can't even cultivate in the meantime?"
*WHOOO*
"...!"
The blacksmith's guard scoffed and raised his hand that immediately got engulfed in a crackling reddishly-orange fire, making Viria flinch and back off, staring at the flame cautiously.
"Relax, boy. And you put your soul artifact out, you can cultivate your lesser blaze back in the barracks."
"Sure, whatever."
Bossac glanced over at Viria and waved his hand to calm him down before turning towards the other guard and shaking his head at him.
The other man shrugged his shoulders and let the reddishly-orange flame sizzle out before putting his hand behind his back as if nothing had happened.
Still, whether the other guard wanted to or not, the young man behind the helpful guard started feeling extremely nervous.
The soul artifact in possession of the guard straight from the uncanny valley was a real deal – even though it had a word lesser in its name, every single soul artifact that was a pure element was at least medium grade – and was the strongest amongst that grade too. Some people even claimed that all element soul artifacts should be counted as at least high grade because of their explosive power that could be unlocked with the owner of the said artifact ascending to high levels of cultivation.
*grumble*
"...not enough fuel..."
The skinny guard's stomach released a longing sound, causing the man to make a pitiful expression and massage it.
That simple gesture revealed the biggest weakness of his soul artifact then and there.
The element of fire was not only using the spiritual energy, but also the calories of the user – and to a much higher degree than a normal workout.
The skinny guard didn't seem willing to continue the small talk so Viria and Bossac entered the building...
[Mole-fox claws (material)] [Glass shards (trash)] [Iron shards (trash)] [Copper shards (trash] [Copper ore (material)] [Tin ore (mineral)] [Tin shards (trash)] [Cured leather scraps (trash)] [Cure leather stripes (material)] [Coal dust (material)] [Coal (material)]
...where a single look at the dirty floor gave the young man all the information that he needed to decide this was the right place for him...
"Urgh...!"
Although the heatwave and the heavy smell of sweat, old dust, and alcohol hitting him in the face did seem to want to change his mind about the matter.
"Heavens...! Prisoner Hoivra! You were allowed to use this place under strict rules of keeping it in order!"
Bossac raised his arm, hiding his nose and mouth behind his elbow, and called out at the indifferent man with his back turned on them hammering away at the red-hot metal.
"Sir guard, what's the big deal? I cleaned up just two... three months ago. Hic...!"
If not for the rather loud hiccup that made the man called Hoivra jump, it would be really hard to notice that he was completely drunk without actually seeing his face.
"...what a waste of potential..."
"...?"
Bossac glared down at the prisoner's back and sighed with disappointment, causing Viria to raise his brow and look at him curiously – the name of the drunken man seemed oddly familiar to the young man for some reason...
"Hoivra. I am showing another prisoner around and..."
"One yellow ticket up front for me even thinking about taking him in, one green ticket a day for being taught until he could be of any actual help, plus one blue ticket for every material he will inevitably turn into the trash that cannot be salvaged... and he will have to deal with it by himself afterward."
Bossac shook his head at Viria to let him know that it was not worth to even talking with that particular blacksmith, but then the moment he started speaking to Hoivra, the man straightened his back and declared without stuttering or hiccuping.
"Wha...?! Now hold on! Who told you that prisoners are allowed to charge other prisoners for learning a profession?!"
The helpful guard's eyes widened and his voice dropped dangerously as he was staring daggers at the wide back of the shameless blacksmith.