Lance roughly estimated the maintenance cost in his mind—around twenty-sothing copper coins at best, but that was only under ideal conditions.
The real expense was that battered shield.
After two full days of high-intensity impacts, the originally smooth shield surface now had several obvious dents, and the strap on the back used for gripping had suffered severe tearing at the connection points.
When Lance brought these two items into the armor shop, he had estimated the repair cost to be around thirty-sothing copper coins.
But reality was clearly harsher than his budget.
“This needs to be reheated in the furnace and hamred flat where it’s dented.”
The burly blacksmith, looking at it as if it were scrap tal, gave his professional assessnt.
“And this strap is completely ruined. You’ll need two new high-toughness monster leather straps riveted on, or next ti in battle, this shield will fly right out of your hand.”
After calculating the entire process, the shield repair alone ca to a hefty 50 copper coins.
Adding up all the scattered expenses, along with food replenishnt afterward, today’s total maintenance cost ca to about 95 copper coins.
It stung a little, but considering the massive earnings over the past two days, this level of expenditure was still well within a reasonable range.
Leaving his equipnt at the shop for repairs, Lance didn’t stay idle.
He turned and slipped into the smoked at workshop next door called “Old Hank.”
It was the most popular shop in the Craftsman District among manual laborers, known for its large portions and filling als.
Lance bought five steaming hot wild boar at pies in one go.
This kind of food, made with thick, grease-layered pastry wrapped around minced at and at jelly, had a rough texture but was extrely high in calories—perfect for replenishing the massive consumption caused by the Dragon-Hunting Breathing Technique.
With sufficient nutritional intake as his backing, Lance directly activated the Breathing Technique while walking.
This allowed him to continuously grind skill proficiency at all tis to obtain that long-awaited specialization sooner, while also subtly expanding his internal Aether Energy pool.
After this period of adaptation, as long as he wasn’t doing sothing intense like a hundred-ter sprint, simply maintaining low-power operation no longer made him look like a human steam engine spewing white vapor from his nose and mouth.
Lance took a bite of the at pie in his hand as he walked.
“Crunch.”
The crispy crust shattered, and piping hot, savory juices burst in his mouth, instantly filling his taste buds with rich at flavor.
However—
The mont he swallowed that bite, his nearly 10-point perception under the Breathing Technique caused the hairs on his back to stand on end.
It felt as if he were being watched by so cold-blooded reptile.
Soone was following him.
Lance’s chewing didn’t pause for even a mont, nor did his walking rhythm change.
He rely tilted his head casually, his gaze sweeping indifferently across the reflection in a shop window.
A sneaky figure was trailing him from a distance, using roadside stalls as cover.
A cold smile curled at the corner of Lance’s lips.
He quickly stuffed the remaining half of the at pie into his mouth, brushed the crumbs off his hands, then turned on his heel and headed in the opposite direction of the armor shop.
Not far ahead was a narrow alley piled with clutter.
At this ti, the sun had already sunk below the horizon, and the alley was dimly lit—perfect for making a move.
Seeing the target turn, the follower grew anxious and hurriedly quickened his pace to catch up.
When he rushed into the alley, however, he found it empty—only mottled shadows cast by the walls on either side.
“Where did he go?”
The follower instinctively assud Lance had already passed through the alley and was about to chase after him.
But just as he passed a corner stacked with discarded wooden barrels—
A large hand like an iron clamp shot out from the shadows without warning and grabbed the back of his head.
Without giving him any ti to react—
That overwhelming force slamd his head straight into the rough stone wall beside him.
“Bang!”
A dull sound echoed through the narrow alley.
The follower saw stars, and the intense dizziness caused him to lose his balance instantly.
What terrifying strength!
That was the only thought that flashed through his mind.
Out of instinct, he tried to struggle and resist, his right hand reaching toward the dagger at his waist.
But Lance gave him no chance to draw it.
Shifting his body slightly, his right elbow ca down like a heavy hamr, striking precisely and viciously into the left side of the man’s ribs.
“Crack.”
A crisp sound of bone breaking rang out.
The follower, who had just tried to resist, let out a miserable groan and collapsed like a puddle of mud, curling up in agony like a shrimp.
Lance stepped out of the shadows and looked down at the man on the ground.
Although the place was secluded, just outside the alley was a busy main street.
If he killed soone here, dealing with the body and answering the town guards’ questioning would be troubleso.
He didn’t want to get himself into unnecessary trouble because of this kind of trash.
“D-Don’t… don’t kill !”
The man on the ground clutched his broken ribs, sweating profusely from the pain.
Looking at Lance’s cold gaze, he imdiately realized he had kicked a steel plate.
“I… I’m just a thief!”
He explained rapidly, afraid that even a second’s delay would cost him his neck.
“I saw you walking around alone and buying so many things, thought you were… were a rich guy, and wanted to steal so money.”
Realizing he had picked the wrong target, he endured the pain and skillfully pulled out a heavy coin pouch from his clothes, sliding it across the ground to Lance’s feet.
“Th-this is all the money I have! It’s all here! Spare !”
This was an unspoken rule in the underworld of Graystone Town.
For people like them who made a living without capital, once caught in the act, handing over all their possessions to buy their life was the only option.
As long as no one died, most adventurers would choose to take the money and leave, avoiding the trouble that ca with killing.
Petty thieves like this were as common as weeds in town—kill one, and another would appear.
Originally, Lance had intended to interrogate him further. He didn’t quite believe the man was just a simple thief.
Because his tracking had clearly been quite skilled.
But just as he was about to speak, the light-blue interface that suddenly popped up on his retina made him swallow his words.
【The opponent you defeated belongs to a group with so local notoriety. Recorded in the Codex】
【Recorded Organization: Ghoulhound】
【Recorded Individual: Jeff (Camp Rat)】
So this triggered a new function?
It turned out that not only individuals, but also the organizations behind them would be recorded in the Codex.
This was far more convenient than direct interrogation—and it also saved the trouble of discerning lies.
Then there was no need to waste ti here.
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