The flea market was crowded as usual. It was no different than the usual day-today condition, with no interesting happenstance in sight. The visitors, walking through the narrow street, set their eyes on their own purpose of coming to the place.
The flea market is a part of the whole market area. It was the place where countless antiques and second-hand items were sold off daily. There are various kinds of stuff that could be found here, ranging from old fancy craftworks to scraps or junks.
Among the crowds, Armand was walking through the streets keeping his eyes for a weapon shop.
It was a strange decision for someone to search for a weapon in the flea market, considering the majority of the stuff were second hand. If someone wants to buy a new weapon, they usually would be better off visiting a blacksmith rather than wandering in this place. However, Armand has his own reason for that.
He then took his turn towards a junk shop. It was a very simple shop, and was rather cramped, but he doesn't care.
It was not the first time he had visited this place, but the owner's dislike for him was quite palpable. He has thought since he has become a regular, it would tenderize the owner's heart towards him. However, that seemed to not be the case. He was still greeted with a grunt.
Armand understood the reason why the owner hated him. It was simply because he only can buy trash weapon that doesn't sell much. Still, he thought the owner was quite harsh on him. An item bought is still an item bought anyway.
Without giving it much more thought, Armand went for the back of the shop where the weapon was stored. There, various weapon made from low-grade steel was placed on into a barrel.
Armand searched through the sword, searching for the best sword to take.
In retrospect, it was useless. Almost all of them were the same. They were low-quality, defect weapons that would be hard to sell by the creator. They were made from low-grade, left-over metal, and they ended up here simply because the blacksmiths intended to get rid of them somehow.
From Armand's experience, they have terrible durability and would break after a few usages. Nonetheless, Armand picked one of the swords and headed back to the owner.
However, before he left the place, he noticed a peculiar book on top of the shelf. It was covered in dust.
"Hey, what is this?"
"I don't know."
Armand swept the dust off with his hand. The cover was hard and stiff, with black color reminiscence of coal. He noticed the faint mana emanating from the book.
"How much for this book?"
"Three coppers."
Armand nodded, and then paid for both the sword and the book. Total was six coppers, three for the sword, and three for the book.
The shop owner still put a sour expression on his face even after Armand paid for his stuff. Armand was quite annoyed by it. It seemed as if the owner didn't appreciate his costumer. He should be thankful I came here, it's not like you have others costumer anyway, he thought to himself.
He hurried his steps and left the place.
*******
Armand is an adventurer, but not as a main job. He joined the guild simply to put a little bit of variety into his day-to-day life. His main job is being an assistant in a bakery own by an old lady.
The bakery was located only 5 minutes' walk from his house, and while the payments are low, it still enough to keep his afloat.
Today, the bakery had more costumer than usual, so they ended up closing the place earlier. All of the bread was sold except for a few failed ones.
"Go bring those leftovers with you. Should be good for breakfast."
"Aye, captain."
Armand responded with a joke, which was later replied with a sharp, menacing stare from the old lady. Armand could only smile wryly.
He then grabbed the leftover bread and put them into a bag. They were either burnt or misshaped, but they are still edible and taste the same as the ones who ended up being sold.
One positive thing about working in a bakery is that Armand had never have to worry about running out of bread for breakfast. He was given the leftovers almost every day, so breakfast had never become a problem.
"Hey kid, I need to talk about something."
"Hmm? What is it grandma?"
Armand, who had just turned his back after locking the backdoor of the shop, was faced with the old lady's serious expression.
The old lady had always put a stern expression, but this time, Armand knows something is different. She is being serious.
"This is the last day for you to work here."
"Huh?" Armand raised his brows in confusion. "What do you mean? Did you just fire me? Did I do something wrong?"
The old lady shook her head. "No, I've decided to close this place, and sold the building."
"B-but why? Why so sudden?"
She closed her eyes, and let out a heavy breath. "I have pondered this for a long time. I don't think I can keep working for much longer."
"…."
"Look, I am old now. Even with your help, the fatigue from working as a baker had become unbearable. I used to enjoy it, but with my back pain constantly killing me like this, I am not sure I want to continue. Besides, I want to spend more time with my family. I've got grandchildren already, so I want to spend the rest of my old life with them if I could."
There was a silent for a few moments. Armand, as much as he hates to admit it, felt a choking sensation on his throat.
"W-well, then I hope you can enjoy your retirement."
The old lady chuckled. "Ha, I hope so. Anyway, here's your last payment."
She handed him a single piece of gold coin. "I know it's not much, but oh well, you know yourself."
Armand let out a smile. "Thanks."
The old lady was the only person who gave him a job after he arrived at this city. For someone who was on the brink of bankruptcy, it meant the world to him. If she were to refuse giving him a chance, then he would've starved to death.
After saying farewell to each other, Armand went back to his house.
There he stared at the black book he bought from the junk shop.