The Bureaucrat’s Office
Kael stood in front of the clerk’s desk, trying to look both professional and harmless—a delicate balance for soone technically running a business in a world he barely understood.
The clerk was a round man with a permanent squint, like he didn’t quite believe in what he was seeing. He adjusted his monocle and gave Kael a once-over.
"Na?"
"Kael Lancaster."
"Occupation?"
Kael hesitated for a beat. "Entrepreneur."
The clerk scribbled sothing down.
"Why have you co here?"
"I’m here to prepare my business papers," Kael said, offering a small smile. It felt weird saying it out loud—like pretending to be an entrepreneur had sohow made it true.
The clerk scratched sothing on a scroll.
"Type of business?"
"I deal in goods from far-off places. Mostly necessities, novelties, non-explosive items."
"Hmm." The clerk eyed him.
"Where are you from?"
Kael hesitated, then decided vague was safer than specific.
"From far away. Beyond the Southern Reaches. I’m seeking permission to do business here—temporarily."
"You’re not from the Blue Kingdom?"
Kael shook his head.
"Technically," the clerk sniffed, "foreigners aren’t permitted without guild sponsorship."
Kael slid a silver coin across the table.
"What if I’m the kind of foreigner who makes people money?"
The clerk squinted, then pocketed the coin without blinking.
"In that case... Welco, rchant Lancaster. You’ll be granted a ten-day temporary business permit. If no complaints are filed against you during that period, you may apply for an extension."
Kael nodded. "That’s fair."
"That’ll be 50 copper for the permit. And if you’re renting a stall, it’s ten copper coins per day."
Kael dug into his coin pouch and counted carefully. He slid over the required coins—one silver and 50 copper for a ten-day stall rental.
The clerk stamped a piece of parchnt with a seal that glowed briefly, then handed it over.
"You’re officially registered. A guard will escort you to your assigned stall."
Ten minutes later, a bored-looking guard showed up, gesturing for Kael to follow. They wound through narrow alleys and twisting market streets until they reached the quieter outskirts of Ginip’s marketplace.
The guard stopped at a row of temporary stalls—simple wooden booths with canvas tops.
"This one’s yours," he said, gesturing like it was a royal villa. "Don’t cause trouble."
"Wouldn’t dream of it," Kael replied.
The guard nodded and left.
Kael stood in front of his new shop—if one could call it that—and took a deep breath.
Ti to work.
He ducked behind the counter and checked his surroundings. The area was quiet—a toddler crying in the distance, a sleepy fruit vendor dozing under his awning.
Kael focused.
With a subtle flick of willpower, the space in front of him shimred—and pop!—out ca the goods. One by one.
Two hundred canned food tins. Five hundred matchboxes.
He set out the matchboxes first, arranging them in neat little pyramids. Then ca the canned food, which he stacked carefully to catch the eye. Each label bore blocky foreign letters and minimalist illustrations—enough mystery to make them interesting, but not enough to confuse the buyer.
He arranged them carefully, then stepped back to admire his handiwork.
The first few minutes were slow. People walked by, curious but cautious. Kael stood confidently, arms crossed, doing his best impression of a man who absolutely belonged here.
A man in patched armor approached.
"What’s this?" he asked, poking a can.
"Canned food. No cooking required. Just open and eat. Inside each is a full al—sealed, preserved. Perfect for adventurers on the go."
"Looks like a tin coffin. How long’s it been in there? A week?"
Kael smirked. "Try a few months. Maybe a year, depending on the can."
That earned him a suspicious grunt.
"In my holand," Kael went on, "we don’t always have the luxury of fresh food. Wars, storms, long winters—whatever the reason, we needed a way to store als without spoiling. So we developed these."
He rapped a knuckle against the can.
"A steel shell, sealed air-tight with heat and pressure. The food inside is cooked and preserved without magic. No rot, no mold, no need for cold storage."
"Isn’t that dangerous?"
Kael laughed. "Only if you try to eat the can. The inside’s just at, vegetables, or stew—real ingredients. It might not win a feast-day contest, but it fills your belly and keeps you alive."
The man looked at it again, this ti with a little less skepticism.
"I see... So no fire needed, no boiling water, no boiling anything?"
Kael grinned.
"Try it. If it’s bad, I’ll refund you." He handed over a can.
"Free sample." Kael opened the can and gave it to him.
"Slls like grave-robbed provisions! You expect to eat corpse food from a tomb?"
"You can try it once. If you get any damage, then I will take responsibility for it."
He took a bite—and his eyes widened.
"Gods above. That’s... not terrible."
Kael smirked. "Told you."
The man grunted, then dropped a few coins on the counter.
"Give two."
Since Kael’s products were a little different, they attracted the attention of many people.
After the first custor left, another man stopped in front of Kael’s shop.
"What’ve you got there, human?" asked a dwarf, half-armored, with a bow on his back and a skeptical gleam in his eye.
Kael put on his best salesman smile.
The dwarf picked up one of the small boxes and examined it.
"Is this... paper? What is this, so kind of art?"
"Not art," Kael said, picking up a matchbox.
"They’re called matches. The stick inside is used to make fire."
Many people in this world still used stones to start fires, which made it very difficult to start a fire. Although magic could be used to start a fire, it was limited to the wealthy. The magical items used to start a fire were very expensive, beyond the reach of ordinary householders or novice adventurers. So Kael decided to bring matches.
"Matches? Never heard of ’em. How’s that little twig supposed to make fire?"
"Look at this. If you rub the tip of this stick against the rough sandpaper of the box—"
Kael pulled a matchstick from the box and struck it against the side. With a hiss and a spark, it flared to life—sudden and bright, like a captured lightning bolt.
"See? Instant fire."
The dwarf flinched backward, eyes wide.
"Wh-what in the blazing hells was that?!"
Reviews
All reviews (0)