Hero Chapter 43: Shopping with Miss Eina (Patreon)

“Repairing the armor—just so my goddess doesn’t worry.”

It was the most unusual reason Eina had heard. Looking at Keyaru, perfectly fine and uninjured, she couldn’t tell why—and, given their relationship, kept her questions to herself.

Still, caring about how others feel is its own kind of kindness. She thought a moment. “For repairs, you’ll want Floor 5 of the Babel Tower.”

“If you’re not familiar with it, I can take you after my shift.”

“…”

Overtime, huh?

Back before he crossed over, Keyaru had done plenty of after-hours “errands” with coworkers. Coming from someone else, though… it didn’t feel so bad.

Asking openly at the Guild about the Dian Cecht Familia’s interest in Blue Papilio Wings required a little discretion.

“Then I’ll trouble you for it, Miss Eina.”

“Wait—”

“You two?”

Eina and Keyaru’s conversation flowed so naturally that Misha was completely ignored. Watching the cozy vibe between them, she suddenly felt like a third wheel.

Leaking a client lead is a Guild no-no. Eina had just done it—and was offering her free evening to take Keyaru to Babel for gear repairs.

Something was up.

Her gut told her this wasn’t as simple as it looked.

“Um…”

Being a lightbulb is rude—but seeing fresh gossip and not getting any was torture for Misha. “How about you bring me along?”

“I thought you had to go home to help with your little brother tonight. No need to bother you with something so simple,” Eina refused at once. After years together in the school district, she knew exactly what her best friend was thinking.

Yes, part of helping Keyaru was because he’d left a good impression.

—

They left the Guild. Skipping the rarities, today’s haul exchanged to roughly 45,000 valis. The seven pairs of Blue Papilio Wings were for Airmid alone—sell direct and skip the Guild’s margin. If the market here was shallow, he wouldn’t overcomplicate a sale.

As for repairs—Keyaru hadn’t expected the poster girl to come in person.

Night was settling over Orario. He glanced at the tall figure in a black women’s suit ahead and offered thanks.

“Really appreciate it, Miss Eina—sorry to drag you out at this hour.”

“It’s fine.” She smiled. “I needed to come anyway—materials drop-off. The cheap starter weapons the Guild sells—we source them from here.”

(They were junk, but she didn’t say that.) Reaching the central plaza, she looked up at Babel spearing the night and explained patiently:

“Floors 4–8 are high-end arms. Some shops there also do repairs. If the damage is extensive, I’d suggest buying new.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

Shame Heal only works on living things. If it could reset gear to base values, that’d be a perpetual-motion machine…

They weren’t close enough for hobbies and small talk, so Keyaru steered to the topic he cared about—the rare drops.

“Miss Eina, when does the Dian Cecht Familia stop buying Blue Papilio Wings?”

“The day after tomorrow. My advice? If you’re free tomorrow, sell early—each pair gets 5,000 more than the Guild’s price. And when that’s done… as thanks, please let me treat you to dinner.”

The best way to keep a relationship is reciprocity. For a tip that nets a whole day’s worth of dive income—what was he supposed to do, say no?

They’d be crossing paths again anyway. Who knew—she might pass along other timely tidbits.

“I won’t be shy about it, Mr. Keyaru,” Eina said. Still… something felt off. On paper he was a fourteen-year-old rookie. In practice, his directness about goals—and that rare, adult steadiness—spoke of someone who’d already seen a lot.

They reached Floor 6 of Babel. Eina’s pick was reliable for quality and price. No signboard—just weapons stacked to the ceiling.

“This is the place,” she said easily.

The lead smith was a stubbly, middle-aged dwarf. Spotting Eina, he looked pleasantly surprised, then turned to Keyaru.

“Buying weapons or armor?”

“I’d like this repaired,” Keyaru said, unbuckling the brown leather cuirass the bolt had pierced and handing it over.

Given Hestia’s finances, a new one wouldn’t be much more expensive. But the meaning was different—this was a gift from his loli goddess, something to keep even if he upgraded later.

“Same model is 10,000 valis. Repair’s about half. Not much point paying for a fix,” the dwarf said, already fishing a replacement from a basket.

“It means something.”

“…All right.”

If a customer insists on spending money, who was he to say no? He took the armor—and noticed the tear from the bolt—then looked up at the brown-haired boy with no sign of injury. The still-water eyes filled with curiosity, but the worst question to ask is a client’s private business.

“5,000 valis. Friends-and-family price.”

“Back in a bit to pick up.”

They paid. Keyaru didn’t wait around. Seeing those Blue Papilio had driven home how shallow his toolkit was. He couldn’t rely on magic swords for anything he couldn’t reach.

He finally had a chance to browse. Later he could ask Takemikazuchi for training on whatever he chose—no more flailing like at the start.

He gestured toward the wall of gleaming steel. “Mind if I just take a look around?”

“Help yourself.”

The dwarf studied the boy—particularly the fact that, after all that two-handed weapon work, he wasn’t hurt in the slightest. Lowering his voice, he sidled closer to the gentle, oblivious Guild clerk.

“This one’s yours, right?”

“Something like that,” Eina answered softly. “He only registered a few days ago.”

The dwarf smith couldn’t help clicking his tongue once he’d put it together. “This adventurer you brought… he’s probably not as simple as you think!”