"What do you mean? Even Golden Bull's Shopkeeper had his suspicions. It wasn't difficult to deduce."
Spark kept a calm and unperturbed demeanor, showing not a sign of surprise.
"I mean... Would a Human be this enraged when seeing a Dwarven Skill Core?"
"...Hardly."
Korokal closed his eyes and nodded in the end. It seemed like he accepted that his behaviour was quite brazen and rash.
"So, now that we have the small details out of the way, let's talk about more important matters."
Spark grinned and stretched his hand out.
"As you have heard, my name is Spark, Spark March, and I'm the owner of a couple establishments in Monsoon City."
Korokal glanced at the stretched out hand, and after a while he snorted and grabbed it with careless force.
"I am Korokal, Korokal the helmsman of Fire and Warrior of the Nomadic Dwarfs."
Spark's smile bloomed like burgeoning flower, "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Korokal, helmsman of Fire."
Korokal opened one eye, and crossed his arms again. It took him a while, but he reciprocated the gesture. There was still a lack of trust, and heavy scrutiny in his bearing.
"... Likewise."
At this moment, Leora arrived with a silver plate with two teacups sitting on it. Both cups were filled to the brim, steaming swaths of fog upwards and emanating a heavenly fragrance which could only be evoked by some of the more exquisite brands of leaves.
"Thank you, dear."
Spark nodded at the assistant and motioned her to leave. Leora bowed deeply and left the room without so much as a change in expression. She upheld dignity and formality.
Spark sniffed at the tea, and his eyes widened with delight when a swath of Mana caught his nose. He immediately took a big gulp of the green liquid, and sighed in satisfaction.
"It's quite good. Try it."
Korokal remained staid, but grabbed his cup and took a few generous sips. An entire herb was boiled for just the two cups. It was dense, and heavy in its taste.
"Not bad..." he mumbled and agreed with Spark's sentiment, but the Dwarf curled his lips and added in a scoffing tone, "But it is still world's apart from the booze of my clansmen."
Spark narrowed his eyes in interest.
"Wait, even better than this?... Are you serious about that statement?"
"Hmpf, it's dozens of times better. Especially if Zouland, Wielder of the Thicket brewed it!"
Spark smashed his hands onto the table.
"Let me try it!"
Korokal immediately replied, and Spark fell back into the couch, losing some of his demeanour.
"Impossible."
"Tsk... Why are you advertising it so fondly then..."
"Because it had to be said!"
Korokal gave a dry chuckle, chipping away at his frigid behaviour, while Spark pressed his nose bridge to calm himself.
"Fine, let's hold this discussion another time. I won't give up so easily... After all, I'll made it my highest goal to taste all sumptuous food and drinks this world can offer."
"For now, I'll try to obtain the Finger of a Dwarf Skill for you in the coming days. We'll have to do so without the Shopkeeper realizing it's actually you who bought it in the end, but... let that be my worry. You'll just have to work some time for me."
"That leads me to my next question... What is your profession?"
Korokal listened to Spark speak and nodded slightly when he heard Spark's philosophy of tasting all the great things of the world, but hesitated to comment.
It was probably to not identify too much with the Human in front of him. He opened his jade eyes and stared Spark directly in the face. His voice wore reminiscent, proud and dignified tones.
"I am Korokal, the Helmsman of Fire, and a long time ago, I created Soul Weapons for my kin. That was my profession."
"Oh... You create Soul Bounds? 50 Spirit Crystals should not be impossible to earn then?"
"I have no respect for the so called trade your kin indulges in. It's sacrilege against the highest Being, The Grand Dao, and betrayal of our own Souls, and the bindings you nonchalantly sell away for selfish gain."
"A Soul Weapon is anchored to your deepest layer of your being. It's the greatest reliance, and the last barricade, a step away from death itself."
Korokal went silent after he solemnly uttered those words with a low voice. Spark ruminated about the meaning of his words. Somehow, they deeply touched them, and he felt that the Dwarf had a fair point, but...
'...You came to the wrong person.'
'I am a Trader by Nature. Business is in my Soul, no less than the Soul Bounds.'
Not voicing his true thoughts out loud, Spark lifted his gaze and inspected the portly, and broad-shouldered Dwarf. No matter who it was, it earned his profound respect to speak directly from ones soul.
"I understand Korokal. Thanks for telling me."
Spark also crossed his arms in thought, before unhinging them and interweaving his fingers to rest on the wooden table.
"Then let's do it like this. I'll purchase the Skill, no matter what happens. But I have one, no two requests to make."
"First, Instead of creating anything to sell away, do me the honour and create a special Soul Bound for me."
Korokal listened silently, without commenting. His unwavering gaze pierced Spark, as if trying to make out his very nature.
"The second request is... Well it's optional."
Spark suddenly grinned mischievously.
"I have a friend, you see. Actually, this guy is also a smith, just like you... Hm, yeah, I want you two to talk for a bit. I bet you'll make good friends!"
Korokal raised his voice in anger.
"Me, friends with a Human? Hmpf. Impossible!"
"Come on! What are you so stiff for? Aren't we also practically friends?"
Korokal hit his fleshy palm on the table, and it almost cracked, "What? I barely know you!"
"Ehhh~ Just think about it! You'll like him! I promise! ... Eh, well, maybe not promise..." Spark scratched his temple.
"So, what do you say?" Spark turned serious in the matter of a moment, and the air around him felt colder, startling Korokal a bit.
"... Let me think about it."
A heavy silence permeated the upper floor of the Divine Sophist Shop, and Spark's solemn expression melted into a cordial smile again.
"Good enough. Then I'll call in a favour from a friend. That way, we'll very likely get the Skill without a hitch... You have a place to stay?"
Korokal didn't answer, making Spark sigh inwardly. He already acted like a social butterfly, but this guy wouldn't warm up at all.
'Not very talkative, is he?'
Spark scrambled inside an inner pocket, sewn into his black suit, and flicked out a golden coin to the cold Dwarf.
"Well then, Korokal. Since you're not a local, it's only proper decorum to make your stay as welcoming as possible."
"No, I won't accept this." the Dwarf flicked it back without hesitation. Spark could only shake his head dejectedly.
"Actually I wanted to invite you to my mansion... but I doubt you'll accept the offer. Sigh."
His face turned a bit irritated and angry.
"My Dwarven Fellow, either you stay at my mansion, or accept this and find a hotel. I won't accept a no for both!"
Korokal also flushed slightly red and brandished his hand.
"You! I don't need your twisted generosity! Keep it! I just want my Kin's Skill and our relationship ends there! You Humans are all..."
"Take it, damn it! What twisted generosity? This is just basic courtesy! Take it how you want it, but I won't budge."
Spark was furious! This guy was a damned racist!
With gritted teeth, the Dwarf received the golden coin and stomped out of the Shop. Spark had to call after him.
"I'll have the thing here in a week at the latest!"
"I'll be there!"
Korokal slung the hood around his figure, and exited the Shop.
Milo saw the short figure stomp out and narrowed his eyes. Seeing that Spark also descended the stairs, he couldn't help but ask:
"Was the customer unsatisfied with our establishment?"
Spark sighed and straightened his collar.
"No... He is just a stubborn fella."
The young man closed his eyes, fell onto a reddish leather couch on the first floor, crossed his legs and lampooned inwardly.
'At least, we have half a deal... Even if that half means it's only me who's working... sigh."