Along the way, he noticed a shop that sold weapons, and he immediately entered. That was how he was planning on making some money to leave the city, infuse his runes into weapons, and sell them.
The insides were rather straightforward, with shelves on the walls, and a wooden platform in the middle with a variety of weapons.
Melvin observed how the shopkeeper although noticed his presence, didn't approach, so he just kept strolling around looking at the various weapons in front of him.
Needless to say, compared to his previous world this one was much more advanced in that aspect since he could tell that the quality of the weapons was very high just from looking at them.
Knowing what his needs were at that level, he only chose a small dagger that had a smooth sharp edge and a brown handle and approached the shopkeeper for the price.
After paying another 13 silver coins for the dagger, he put it in the waistband of his pants and got out.
'I still have 68 silver and 392 copper coins. That is not bad.' Melvin calculated, walking back to where the boys lived.
Along the way, he was verbally hassled by a group of guys on the edge of the slums after he passed by them, but he didn't do anything and just continued walking. He had realized another thing from this world, most people were awfully strong and seemed to have superhuman skills and abilities, but in contrast, he had nothing.
He was certain that their strength and agility were way beyond his, and even their skills seemed to be numerous, which frankly puzzled him greatly. 'Why didn't Jacob's body have any?' He thought.
Once he reached the space where the boys were previously fighting with those coachmen, he saw the shack that the small boy William entered to get the wooden box that had some money and approached it.
This was like a normal neighborhood, with houses in various rows with the road winding through them. Naturally, the biggest difference was that there were no houses here, just shabby wooden shacks where the air hung heavy with the pungent stench of fish and horse urine.
Their shack was situated on the second row, and so after walking with a row of shacks to his left, he turned around to the right and saw the entrance to their own.
It stood at a humble height of about two meters, with a width spanning approximately six meters. Its entrance bore a weighty, seemingly detached door, standing resolutely without any apparent tether to the structure. Crafted from a mishmash of rugged wood, inexpensive fabric, and broad sheets of paper, the shack exuded an aura of both poverty and instability.
Taking all of that, Melvin's face grimaced, 'What in the world?'
As he cautiously pushed the door aside and stepped into the dim interior, the shabbiness of the insides unfolded before him. Glass bottles and discarded clothes cluttered the space. Six worn rugs lay strewn across the floor, three on either side, separated by a flimsy curtain that barely partitioned the room.
Closing the door behind him with a soft thud, he surveyed his surroundings, 'Jesus Christ.', he thought. Slowly walking in the middle where a path was naturally formed between the rugs, he continued towards the corner. Reaching there, he glanced down, and thought, 'This smells kind of funky.'
Melvin understood that everything was dirty around here, and because he had just showered he could feel it even more. Sighing to himself he put his bag on the rugs to his right, and he sat down on the one to the left. He could tell that this was where the boys slept. With only a long, thin, coarse blanket, or rather a rug, serving as a barrier against the cold, unforgiving ground.
Sitting there and taking everything in, a sense of urgency overwhelmed him. He knew that he was too distracted by everything new in the city to really gauge the reality of the situation, but as things stood he was poor, weak, and ignorant about the world. To make things even worse, he was wanted by three great powers in the city, who either wanted to make his life a living hell or worse, kill him.
In other words, the situation was rather bleak, and it was only now amid this palpable poverty and misery that he finally saw it. Understanding that his only way out of this mess was his legendary class, he dismissed his worries and got to work.
Melvin stood up; took off his cloak, and put it on top of the rug he was sitting on. He went back to the other corner of the shack, close to where the door was, and grabbed two knee-height brown bricks that he found there.
In the same place, he positioned the bricks parallel to one another, and then he placed a piece of thin metal he found lying around on top of the two bricks.
Walking to where he put the bag down, he grabbed the bundle of candles from it and tore it apart. From the six candles, he took three and left the other three inside of the torn paper and put it back inside the bag.
Returning close to the door, he sat down, put the other two candles beside him, and focused on one.
He used the Flamecaster Ring and lit the braided cotton wick on fire, and his face froze as realization struck. 'Fuck!' He internally cursed seeing the oversight, 'I forgot to buy a candle holder...'
He turned the candle upside down, moved it under the piece of metal, and waited.
Soon, the wax of the candle began to melt and started dripping down. Moving his hands, he continued dripping that wax until a small circular mound was formed and put the candle on top of it. He didn't let go of the candle until the wax underneath it completely solidified, and then he gently removed his hands.
Noticing that it worked, he sighed in relief and repeated the same process for the other two candles. Once that was finished, the first step was completed.
'All I need to do now is wait,' Melvin thought as he looked at the flickering flames in front of him. Although he was slightly warmed by the heat emanating from the candles, he couldn't help but feel a shiver of cold.
He understood that this was a coastal city, so a more cold and windy weather was to be expected. Especially, for the boys who lived so close to the ocean, and in such a shabby building that had many openings.
He was aware that the ocean was just behind the walls that stood behind the stables, if a moment passed where things were really quiet, he could even make out the faint sound of the waves crashing against the shore.
'Though I wonder what those guys are doing?' Melvin thought in passing, but this was in his favor. The more they stayed out of the home, the better.
This was the price that came with occupying an existing person's body, you get entangled in all of their baggage, even though you had nothing to do with it. Thinking that he would be indeed spending the night, he felt a trace of anxiety growing within.
He had no idea how he should navigate the weird relationship dynamic between him and each person in that group, especially George.
'How easy it would have been if I had access to his memories?' Melvin ruminated, 'But then if it was easy there would be no enjoyment...'
Naturally, he wasn't talking about his own.
He continued waiting for the candles to burn for a little while longer, and then when he finally noticed that they were halfway through, he blew them off.
He walked back to his bag, cut off a piece of purple paper that was holding the candles, carried the dagger he left on the other rug, and returned close to the door.
With thumping impatient steps as he stood beside the bricks Melvin waited, he kept touching the metal from time to time to gauge its temperature. Once it was finally cool enough to the touch, he flipped it over and put it above the purple piece of paper he put on the ground.
In the center of the piece of metal, a lot of soot was gathered. It was the result of the combustion of hydrocarbon fuels from the candle smoke, and it was the most crucial ingredient in making ink.
Using his dagger, he began to scrape all of the gathered soot with focused intensity. Each scrape sent a small flurry of black dust dancing upward, briefly obscuring the dim light filtering through the cracks in the ceiling. The purple paper below grew steadily darker, absorbing the evidence of his efforts.
Noticing that he had scrapped all of it, he put down the metal, and tilting his torso to the side he grabbed one of the glass bottles, and put it on the ground in front of him.
He carried the now-filled piece of purple paper and gently began folding it in order to gather all of the powder in the middle, then he moved it on top of the bottle's head and began dropping the content of the paper inside of it.
'Shit, I forgot to check if the bottle had any liquid residue inside.' Melvin cursed once again, 'I always miss the small details.'
He brought the bottle to eye level and started looking through its dark green blurry glass, but thankfully he didn't notice anything.
'Alright, time for the final step.' He thought, with some excitement bubbling up in his heart after he put down the bottle close to the bricks, and walked back to the corner once again.
When he reached the bag, he knelt atop the rug and started rummaging through it. He brought out the gum, the small bottle of alcohol, and the wooden mortar.
Returning to the door of the shack with the items, he sat down once again and finally got to the heart of the process.
He had already found a bottle made of clay in the shack that had some water, and so using that he gently poured a bit of water in the mortar. Using his dagger, he cut a small piece of the gum and added it on top of the water. After a minute or two, the gum began to dissolve inside the water.
'It's ready,' Melvin remarked, he grabbed the glass bottle filled with the black pigment, or in other words, the soot scrapped from the candle smoke, and poured half of it in the mortar.
The liquid inside was immediately painted black, and so using the wooden pestle he began to gently mix everything together.
Suddenly, something shocking happened that left Melvin's mouth agape, but his hand controlling the pestle didn't stop.
His previously dormant and unmoving mental energy began to move all around him, effortlessly creating white arcane symbols that he had no idea what they presented.
Along the way, he noticed a shop that sold weapons, and he immediately entered. That was how he was planning on making some money to leave the city, infuse his runes into weapons, and sell them.
The insides were rather straightforward, with shelves on the walls, and a wooden platform in the middle with a variety of weapons.
Melvin observed how the shopkeeper although noticed his presence, didn't approach, so he just kept strolling around looking at the various weapons in front of him.
Needless to say, compared to his previous world this one was much more advanced in that aspect since he could tell that the quality of the weapons was very high just from looking at them.
Knowing what his needs were at that level, he only chose a small dagger that had a smooth sharp edge and a brown handle and approached the shopkeeper for the price.
After paying another 13 silver coins for the dagger, he put it in the waistband of his pants and got out.
'I still have 68 silver and 392 copper coins. That is not bad.' Melvin calculated, walking back to where the boys lived.
Along the way, he was verbally hassled by a group of guys on the edge of the slums after he passed by them, but he didn't do anything and just continued walking. He had realized another thing from this world, most people were awfully strong and seemed to have superhuman skills and abilities, but in contrast, he had nothing.
He was certain that their strength and agility were way beyond his, and even their skills seemed to be numerous, which frankly puzzled him greatly. 'Why didn't Jacob's body have any?' He thought.
Once he reached the space where the boys were previously fighting with those coachmen, he saw the shack that the small boy William entered to get the wooden box that had some money and approached it.
This was like a normal neighborhood, with houses in various rows with the road winding through them. Naturally, the biggest difference was that there were no houses here, just shabby wooden shacks where the air hung heavy with the pungent stench of fish and horse urine.
Their shack was situated on the second row, and so after walking with a row of shacks to his left, he turned around to the right and saw the entrance to their own.
It stood at a humble height of about two meters, with a width spanning approximately six meters. Its entrance bore a weighty, seemingly detached door, standing resolutely without any apparent tether to the structure. Crafted from a mishmash of rugged wood, inexpensive fabric, and broad sheets of paper, the shack exuded an aura of both poverty and instability.
Taking all of that, Melvin's face grimaced, 'What in the world?'
As he cautiously pushed the door aside and stepped into the dim interior, the shabbiness of the insides unfolded before him. Glass bottles and discarded clothes cluttered the space. Six worn rugs lay strewn across the floor, three on either side, separated by a flimsy curtain that barely partitioned the room.
Closing the door behind him with a soft thud, he surveyed his surroundings, 'Jesus Christ.', he thought. Slowly walking in the middle where a path was naturally formed between the rugs, he continued towards the corner. Reaching there, he glanced down, and thought, 'This smells kind of funky.'
Melvin understood that everything was dirty around here, and because he had just showered he could feel it even more. Sighing to himself he put his bag on the rugs to his right, and he sat down on the one to the left. He could tell that this was where the boys slept. With only a long, thin, coarse blanket, or rather a rug, serving as a barrier against the cold, unforgiving ground.
Sitting there and taking everything in, a sense of urgency overwhelmed him. He knew that he was too distracted by everything new in the city to really gauge the reality of the situation, but as things stood he was poor, weak, and ignorant about the world. To make things even worse, he was wanted by three great powers in the city, who either wanted to make his life a living hell or worse, kill him.
In other words, the situation was rather bleak, and it was only now amid this palpable poverty and misery that he finally saw it. Understanding that his only way out of this mess was his legendary class, he dismissed his worries and got to work.
Melvin stood up; took off his cloak, and put it on top of the rug he was sitting on. He went back to the other corner of the shack, close to where the door was, and grabbed two knee-height brown bricks that he found there.
In the same place, he positioned the bricks parallel to one another, and then he placed a piece of thin metal he found lying around on top of the two bricks.
Walking to where he put the bag down, he grabbed the bundle of candles from it and tore it apart. From the six candles, he took three and left the other three inside of the torn paper and put it back inside the bag.
Returning close to the door, he sat down, put the other two candles beside him, and focused on one.
He used the Flamecaster Ring and lit the braided cotton wick on fire, and his face froze as realization struck. 'Fuck!' He internally cursed seeing the oversight, 'I forgot to buy a candle holder...'
He turned the candle upside down, moved it under the piece of metal, and waited.
Soon, the wax of the candle began to melt and started dripping down. Moving his hands, he continued dripping that wax until a small circular mound was formed and put the candle on top of it. He didn't let go of the candle until the wax underneath it completely solidified, and then he gently removed his hands.
Noticing that it worked, he sighed in relief and repeated the same process for the other two candles. Once that was finished, the first step was completed.
'All I need to do now is wait,' Melvin thought as he looked at the flickering flames in front of him. Although he was slightly warmed by the heat emanating from the candles, he couldn't help but feel a shiver of cold.
He understood that this was a coastal city, so a more cold and windy weather was to be expected. Especially, for the boys who lived so close to the ocean, and in such a shabby building that had many openings.
He was aware that the ocean was just behind the walls that stood behind the stables, if a moment passed where things were really quiet, he could even make out the faint sound of the waves crashing against the shore.
'Though I wonder what those guys are doing?' Melvin thought in passing, but this was in his favor. The more they stayed out of the home, the better.
This was the price that came with occupying an existing person's body, you get entangled in all of their baggage, even though you had nothing to do with it. Thinking that he would be indeed spending the night, he felt a trace of anxiety growing within.
He had no idea how he should navigate the weird relationship dynamic between him and each person in that group, especially George.
'How easy it would have been if I had access to his memories?' Melvin ruminated, 'But then if it was easy there would be no enjoyment...'
Naturally, he wasn't talking about his own.
He continued waiting for the candles to burn for a little while longer, and then when he finally noticed that they were halfway through, he blew them off.
He walked back to his bag, cut off a piece of purple paper that was holding the candles, carried the dagger he left on the other rug, and returned close to the door.
With thumping impatient steps as he stood beside the bricks Melvin waited, he kept touching the metal from time to time to gauge its temperature. Once it was finally cool enough to the touch, he flipped it over and put it above the purple piece of paper he put on the ground.
In the center of the piece of metal, a lot of soot was gathered. It was the result of the combustion of hydrocarbon fuels from the candle smoke, and it was the most crucial ingredient in making ink.
Using his dagger, he began to scrape all of the gathered soot with focused intensity. Each scrape sent a small flurry of black dust dancing upward, briefly obscuring the dim light filtering through the cracks in the ceiling. The purple paper below grew steadily darker, absorbing the evidence of his efforts.
Noticing that he had scrapped all of it, he put down the metal, and tilting his torso to the side he grabbed one of the glass bottles, and put it on the ground in front of him.
He carried the now-filled piece of purple paper and gently began folding it in order to gather all of the powder in the middle, then he moved it on top of the bottle's head and began dropping the content of the paper inside of it.
'Shit, I forgot to check if the bottle had any liquid residue inside.' Melvin cursed once again, 'I always miss the small details.'
He brought the bottle to eye level and started looking through its dark green blurry glass, but thankfully he didn't notice anything.
'Alright, time for the final step.' He thought, with some excitement bubbling up in his heart after he put down the bottle close to the bricks, and walked back to the corner once again.
When he reached the bag, he knelt atop the rug and started rummaging through it. He brought out the gum, the small bottle of alcohol, and the wooden mortar.
Returning to the door of the shack with the items, he sat down once again and finally got to the heart of the process.
He had already found a bottle made of clay in the shack that had some water, and so using that he gently poured a bit of water in the mortar. Using his dagger, he cut a small piece of the gum and added it on top of the water. After a minute or two, the gum began to dissolve inside the water.
'It's ready,' Melvin remarked, he grabbed the glass bottle filled with the black pigment, or in other words, the soot scrapped from the candle smoke, and poured half of it in the mortar.
The liquid inside was immediately painted black, and so using the wooden pestle he began to gently mix everything together.
Suddenly, something shocking happened that left Melvin's mouth agape, but his hand controlling the pestle didn't stop.
His previously dormant and unmoving mental energy began to move all around him, effortlessly creating white arcane symbols that he had no idea what they presented.
