The system's earlier message echoed in his mind, reigniting that faint spark of curiosity. System Initialization Complete. Whatever this newfound power was, it might be his ticket to fight back, to uncover the truth, and to prove he wasn't the worthless drunkard they all thought he was.
Marvin stood, brushing the dust from his tattered tunic. The ruined mansion, the shattered remains of his dignity, and the weight of his banishment no longer felt like a burden. They felt like a challenge.
Marvin took a deep breath, still staring at the flickering embers in the ruined fireplace. Slowly, he muttered, "System... show yourself."
In an instant, glowing text materialized in front of him, floating mid-air. Marvin flinched, "What the-" He caught himself and took another look at the text.
Alright, calm down," Marvin said to himself, forcing his heart to slow. "You've seen enough weird things to know panicking won't help." He focused on the floating display, his finger hesitating for a moment before poking at the Profile section.
Nothing happened.
He tried again, this time gently pressing it like he was touching glass. The system reacted, the display shimmering briefly before stabilizing.
"Well, this is going to take some getting used to," he muttered, leaning closer to examine the details.
_______________________________
===Profile===
•Host: Marvin Lacoste
•Status: Banished
•Popularity Points: 0
•Spells: None
•Cubical Storage: Locked [x]
•Market: Locked [x]
•Task: Gather the trust of your subjects (3 or more).
=Reward: Silver Dagger.
_______________________________
Marvin blinked at the screen, his jaw tightening. "Trust of my subjects?" he muttered, reading the task again. He snorted, shaking his head. "I barely have subjects, let alone their trust. What kind of a joke is this?"
The glowing interface remained indifferent, the text hovering steadily as if mocking his disbelief.
The words "Cubical Storage: Locked" and "Market: Locked" stuck out like sore thumbs and What's with popularity points? crossing his arms. "Not even a single spell to my name. Thanks, System. Real helpful."
But his eyes fell on the task section again, and a small flicker of interest sparked. Gather trust? That sounded easier than slaying monsters or dueling warriors, but knowing the people of this forsaken territory, it wouldn't be as simple as it seemed.
Marvin leaned back, a thoughtful smirk forming on his lips. "Alright, System, I'll play along"
He closed the interface with a mental command, stood up, and headed toward the doorway. Somewhere out there in this miserable territory were people he needed to win over. The sooner he started, the sooner he could figure out what this strange system could really do.
Marvin stepped out of his ruined mansion and took a deep breath, the crisp air of his crumbling territory filling his lungs. He tightened his worn cloak around him and set off down the uneven dirt path.
"I've got to start somewhere," he muttered, eyes scanning the desolate surroundings. After walking for a few minutes, the faint sound of chatter and activity grew louder. Soon, he arrived at what passed for the market, a crowded stretch of makeshift stalls and rickety tents.
The scene was a chaotic blend of desperation and survival. Merchants barked out prices, children darted through the narrow paths, and bartering echoed in every direction. Marvin stood at the edge of the crowd, taking it all in.
"This place is hanging on by a thread," he muttered under his breath. His gaze lingered on a stall selling wilted vegetables, where a woman was haggling fiercely for a lower price. Another vendor argued with a man over a broken tool. Everywhere Marvin looked, people seemed tense, their faces worn by hardship.
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "With the money I have, I can survive a year without lifting a finger," he thought, recalling the resources he'd inherited with the territory. "But what's the point of that? If this is my land now, I need to take care of it"
Marvin's lips twisted into a half-smile. It wasn't like he suddenly cared about being a noble, but if he wanted to complete the System's task, he had to start somewhere.
He scanned the crowd again, his eyes narrowing. Alright, Marvin. Find someone who needs help. This shouldn't be too hard.
A commotion near the center of the market caught his attention. A loud argument was brewing, and the tension in the air was palpable. Marvin's curiosity piqued, and he began making his way through the throng of people, his instincts telling him this might be his chance to start earning trust or at least stir up some trouble.
Marvin pushed through the crowd, following the raised voices until he reached the source of the commotion. A wiry man, his face red with anger, stood behind a wooden stall stacked with sacks of grain and dried produce. Across from him, a burly customer leaned in aggressively, jabbing a finger at the goods.
"I'm telling you, this is robbery!" the customer barked. "Ten silvers for a sack of grain? You think we're made of money?"
The stall owner crossed his arms, his voice firm but weary. "And I'm telling you, the price is fair. Do you know how hard it is to get supplies here? I barely make a profit as it is!"
"Fair?" the customer scoffed, his tone dripping with disbelief. "You're just another leech, squeezing what little we have left! Seven silvers, and that's generous!"
"Seven wouldn't even cover my costs!" the stall owner shot back, his voice rising. "You want grain for nothing? Maybe try growing it yourself next time!"
The customer slammed his fist on the stall, making the sacks of grain jump. "Watch your mouth, old man. I've got a family to feed!"
"And I've got a family too!" the stall owner snapped, stepping around the stall to meet the man face-to-face. "You think I want to charge these prices? I don't have a choice!"
The crowd murmured around them, a few people muttering under their breath. Some sided with the customer, lamenting the high prices, while others nodded sympathetically with the stall owner. Marvin stood at the edge, his brow furrowed as he watched the escalating tension.
"Well," Marvin said to himself, cracking his knuckles. "This seems like a good place to start earning some trust… or a headache."
Marvin stepped forward, clearing his throat loudly to draw attention. "I want to buy those things," he announced, his voice cutting through the tension.
Both men turned to him, startled. The customer glared, his expression darkening. "And who the hell do you think you are?"
Marvin ignored the hostility, brushing imaginary dust from his coat. "I said I'll buy your goods," he repeated, pointing at the sacks of grain. "In fact, I'll take all of it."
The stall owner blinked in surprise, while the customer snorted, crossing his arms. "Oh, you'll take it all, will you? Big talk for someone who's butting into things that don't concern him. Who do you think you are, huh?"
Marvin gave a faint smirk, meeting the man's gaze without flinching. "Me? I'm Marvin," he said casually, then added, "Marvin Lacoste. And for your information, this is my concern because this happens to be my territory. I'm the new lord here."
The man's mocking grin faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered. "The new lord? Ha! You expect me to believe that?"
Marvin's smirk widened as he leaned in slightly, his tone dripping with confidence. "Believe it or not, it doesn't matter. But what does matter is that I know exactly what you're trying to do here. So let me ask you, do you really want to pick a fight with your territory's lord?"
The crowd, which had been murmuring quietly, grew silent as all eyes turned to the customer. His bravado wavered as he glanced around, realizing the onlookers were waiting for his next move.
The stall owner, still processing the situation, stammered, "Y-You're the new lord?"
Marvin gave him a quick nod. "That's right. Now, let's settle this matter before things get uglier than they already are."
The customer opened his mouth, clearly ready to refute Marvin's claim, but then stopped. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized Marvin, taking in his confident posture and aristocratic demeanor.
"When did this isolated dump even get a lord?" he muttered under his breath, skepticism flashing across his face. But something in Marvin's tone and presence made him hesitate. He does look like a noble, even if this place barely deserves one, the man thought to himself.
Deciding it wasn't worth the risk, he gave Marvin one last glare, muttered something incoherent, and melted into the crowd without another word.
Marvin watched him go, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Thought so," he murmured to himself before turning to the stall owner.
"Now, where were we?"