Evan paced behind the counter, anxiety clawing at his mind as the system's deadline ticked away. Quest incomplete. Time remaining: 8 hours. The absurdity of the situation hit him in waves—he was stuck in a fantasy world, running a shop that sold overpriced soda, and if he didn't sell one can, he would die. Every customer so far had walked out, unwilling to pay one silver coin for a drink.
"Eight hours," he muttered to himself, feeling the pressure tighten around his chest. "I'm going to die because no one wants to buy a damn soda."
Just as he was about to give up hope, the shop door creaked open. Evan's heart leapt, and he quickly straightened, hoping this was his chance. The man who entered wasn't the friendly adventurer type, though. He moved silently, his face half-hidden beneath a dark hood. His sharp eyes scanned the shop like a predator sizing up its prey. A rogue, without a doubt.
Evan swallowed hard, watching as the man stepped closer to the shelves, his gaze landing on the row of Cola cans. The rogue picked one up, turning it over in his hand, his expression unreadable.
"What's this?" the rogue asked, his voice low and raspy. He turned the can, inspecting it like he was trying to figure out if it was enchanted or dangerous. "Never seen anything like it."
Evan tried to sound confident, though his voice wavered. "That's Cola. A rare, refreshing drink. You won't find it anywhere else. It's great for adventurers, keeps you energized. Just a silver coin."
The rogue narrowed his eyes, setting the can down with a thud. He reached into his cloak and drew out a long, gleaming dagger, laying it on the counter between them. The blade caught the light, sharp and menacing.
"If you're lying," the rogue said softly, his voice dripping with menace, "this dagger will be buried in your heart." He tapped the point of the blade on the counter, the sound sending a chill down Evan's spine. "I don't have time for scams, shopkeeper."
Evan froze, his eyes locked on the dagger. The threat hung heavy in the air, the rogue's cold stare never leaving his face.
But then, a grim thought crept into Evan's mind. He was going to die anyway if he didn't sell this drink. In a few hours, the system would kill him. If he failed this quest, he was dead no matter what. The rogue's dagger, the system's penalty—it didn't matter.
What difference does it make? Evan thought bitterly. I'm screwed either way. Might as well go for it.
He straightened up, taking a deep breath. "I'm not lying," Evan said, surprising himself with the steadiness of his voice. "This drink is something special. You won't regret it."
The rogue studied him for a long moment, his grip on the dagger tight. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he sheathed the blade and dropped a small pouch of coins onto the counter.
"One silver coin," the rogue said, tapping the pouch. "For your drink."
Evan blinked, shocked. He quickly slid a can of Cola toward the rogue and grabbed the pouch. "Pleasure doing business with you," he said, trying not to sound too relieved.
The rogue picked up the can and frowned at it. His sharp gaze darted over the strange metal surface. "How do you open this?"
Evan stared at him, realizing the rogue had no idea how modern cans worked. "Oh, right… uh, here, let me show you."
The rogue's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Evan thought he might pull the dagger out again. Instead, the rogue handed the can back, watching Evan's every move with a wary intensity.
Evan took the can, his hands trembling slightly under the pressure. "So, you see this tab on top?" He pointed to the small metal pull-tab. "You just put your finger under it, and—" He carefully lifted the tab, and with a soft pssht, the can opened, releasing a faint hiss of carbonation. "There you go. That's it."
The rogue's eyes flicked to the can, then back to Evan, clearly unimpressed by the simple process. "That's it? It just… hisses?"
"Yeah," Evan said, forcing a nervous smile. "It's supposed to do that. It's, uh… part of the magic."
The rogue took the can back, lifting it to his lips cautiously, as if he still expected it to explode. He took a long sip, and for a moment, his expression didn't change. Then, his eyes widened slightly, and he lowered the can, staring at it as though something unexpected had just happened.
"Well now," the rogue muttered, licking his lips. "That's… different."
Evan couldn't tell if the rogue meant it in a good way or a bad way, but the fact that he wasn't lunging across the counter with his dagger was enough for him. "Glad you like it," Evan said quickly.
The rogue finished the drink, tossing the empty can onto the counter with a soft clatter. "You were telling the truth, then," he said, his tone almost grudging. "I'll remember this."
Evan watched as the rogue turned and moved toward the door, his dark cloak sweeping behind him. Before he left, the rogue paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "Next time I'm in town, you'd better have something even more impressive."
And with that, he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him.
Evan stood frozen behind the counter, barely able to believe what had just happened. He glanced down at the empty can, then at the dent the rogue's dagger had left in the wood. His hands were still trembling from the encounter, but he couldn't stop the wave of relief washing over him.
The system chimed in his head, startling him. "Quest complete. Reward: New product unlocked."
Evan blinked, looking at the shelves. With a soft glow, new items materialized—a row of Instant Noodles now filled the previously empty space, each package brightly labeled Ramen.
He let out a shaky laugh, slumping back onto his stool. "I did it," he muttered, a grin tugging at his lips. "I actually did it."
But as the adrenaline faded, reality set in. He had managed to sell one can of soda to a rogue who had threatened his life, and now he had a new product to sell. But there were still more quests, more risks, and probably more people with daggers.
"Well," Evan said with a tired smile, "at least I'm not dead. Yet."