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The underworld of Night Haven is filled with all sorts of humans.

There are the incompetent ones who have little ability or luck, yet want to stay in the city at all costs.

Fools who escape the suffocating laws and rules made by humans and live however they please.

Failures who stretch beyond their means and end up torn apart and ruined.

Naturally, in such a place, it’s impossible to create any productive value.

The best one can do economically is to either sell their bodies or steal from others.

Thus, it’s natural that there are those who snatch away others’ belongings.

With that, there arise those who buy up lost items cheaply.

Hence, there were quite a few fence dealers specializing in stolen goods in this underworld.

Fences acquire valuable items cheaply, while the thieves can easily convert their difficult-to-dispose goods into cash.

It’s a transaction where neither side feels they’ve been wronged.

So, just moments ago, after farming rings from a drug addict,

I was on my way to find a fence to trade these rings for money.

‘It’s still quiet around here, not a soul in sight.’

Bouncing here and there, I paused on a rooftop and looked around.

Even at the deep outskirts, drunken people occasionally stumbled about.

Yet here, it was hard to find so much as a rat.

The silence was atypical of Night Haven, where noise and chaos generally rule.

Of course, there was a reason for this.

This is a location close to the urban center of the outer world.

Those staying in the light feel the danger and avoid wandering aimlessly,

while those in the underworld have no particular business here and don’t venture close—a sort of gray area, if you will.

If one were to cause a ruckus here, corporations or the police might extend their hands into the underworld,

and all sorts of crime organizations might jump out into action.

Multiple factions were watching each other, carefully navigating the situation.

‘Quiet is my style, so I prefer it this way anyway.’

I confirmed once more that no one was passing by and lightly jumped off the rooftop, quietly settling down in an alley.

Emerging from the slightly damp, foul-smelling alleyway,

I was greeted by an overgrown street where weeds were sprouting from neglect.

‘This definitely wasn’t here a week ago.’

Sure enough, that guy has no interest in maintenance at all.

I bitterly chuckled to myself as I used my telekinesis to yank out the weeds and toss them haphazardly into the drain.

By the time I thought it looked reasonably clean,

I entered a store directly in front of the weed-ridden road that had no lights on.

At a glance, it might seem like a place that had closed down.

But as soon as I stepped inside, the lights came on, and someone welcomed me.

“Welcome.”

“…”

“Have a seat.”

The store owner was a massive orc, nearly double my height.

His name was Greg Bisk.

Just receiving his gaze sent prickles of danger up my spine; he was a very dangerous man.

But still, he wasn’t the type to hit his customers.

So, there was no need to be overly tense.

I scurried over to a chair for guests, sitting quietly.

Greg sat down across from me, towering so much that his shadow nearly engulfed my entire body.

‘That oppressive aura from Greg is impressive as always. How can he create such a vibe just by sitting still?’

If I were to sit like that wearing just a cloth, I’d look utterly pathetic.

It struck me again just how this fixer world was filled with powerful non-humans.

“Did you bring the goods?”

“…”

While I was briefly lost in thought, Greg—wearing round glasses he had acquired from somewhere—naturally continued the conversation with me, who hadn’t said a word.

Of course, it’s not like I didn’t want to talk, but

even considering that, he moved to the main point pretty fast; perhaps he recognized me as a regular.

I felt slightly touched by Greg’s business acumen as I pulled out the ring I had taken from the drug addict and placed it on the table.

“Is this a ring? Quite a few you’ve got. Especially this one…”

Greg looked down at the over ten rings rolling around on the table, hesitating only briefly before picking up the ugliest ring among them to eye level.

“Estimare.”

He murmured some words while gripping one side of his glasses.

At that moment, the right lens began to faintly glow.

That was magic.

To be precise, it was a form of magic embedded in the artifact that was his glasses.

The effect was to read the faint residual thoughts embedded in objects.

Of course, it wasn’t exactly reading past memories like a cheat; rather, it felt like the strong impressions and emotions etched into the object seeped into the realm of the subconscious.

The impressions were a jumble so tangled that they couldn’t be expressed in language or logic, like a kind of byproduct.

However, it was enough to discern whether the object held value or was dangerous.

‘He says it’s just a cheap artifact that lets him see objects better…’

But depending on how it’s used, it could be a crucial trump card that turns a disadvantageous situation upside down.

In fact, that particular pair of glasses had previously saved lives by distinguishing between real and fake bombs.

Artifacts containing magic were not to be underestimated, regardless of their contents.

…Now, someone might wonder why I knew so much about him.

You could say it was a rather obvious reason.

Greg Bisk was a character from the original fixer’s story!

Huh? Wasn’t it risky to get entangled with the protagonist of this world?

But here I was, getting entangled with an original character!

Hmm, if I were to excuse myself, there was simply no one as reliable among the fences in the underworld as Greg!

Even if fences have a mutually beneficial relationship with those of the underworld,

they are undeniably also part of that world.

There were those who would take advantage of clueless customers.

They’d buy up stolen goods only to sell the seller’s position to the original owner for a price!

There were plenty of troublesome characters.

‘After getting scammed three times, I was so upset I almost cried. Damn those guys.’

It’s true I was small and quiet, wrapped in cloth,

so it was inevitable that I’d be underestimated…

But even so, it was frustrating to still feel anger.

My money! My time! And those who break in while I’m sleeping!

Despite vowing never to get involved with the protagonist’s crew,

I had no choice but to deal with a trustworthy fence to survive.

‘Greg’s reliable enough. He doesn’t rip me off. He doesn’t leak information or look down on me. Honestly, I couldn’t ask for a better dealer.’

Of course, Greg also served as the appraiser for the items the protagonist’s crew picks up randomly.

It might be a bit unfortunate if I happened to run into an original character, but…

As long as I timed things well, it should be fine.

In fact, thinking that anything would happen just because I briefly locked eyes with someone was a kind of over-inflated self-consciousness.

If handing over items to the same appraiser connected me to them, then you might as well assume an appraiser seeing goods from a corporate CEO would have to circle the globe just to wait.

‘Of course, this all hinges on not getting caught with my powers. Just don’t slack off. Just don’t slack off.’

Even at this moment, I’ll never let my guard down.

I watched Greg inspect the ring in silence with a determined expression on my face.

And not long after, the glow from his glasses faded.

At last, the appraisal of the first ring finished.

“This won’t do.”

“…?”

Oh no, he’s refusing to buy it!

I panicked slightly, tapping the table as if to demand an explanation from him.

I never thought he would outright refuse, especially since he had previously bought things even at cheap prices.

Greg quietly looked down at my flustered expression and then brought the ring closer to my face.

“As you can see, this ring has no monetary value whatsoever. It seems to be made of hardened material. This method is common among recently popular vampires.”

Greg had two reasons for his refusal.

First, he claimed that even if he bought the ring, its lousy form meant no one would take it off his hands.

Second, buying it would give that vampire organization a reason to attack him.

Truly, it was a mature, rational reason.

It made me feel a bit embarrassed for tapping the table at all.

Well, it couldn’t be helped.

I wasn’t hoping for Greg to get involved in anything troublesome.

Besides, trying to sell it recklessly likely wouldn’t yield much anyway.

I had no choice but to consider it as garbage I just picked up.

“The rest look like ordinary rings, so I’ll buy them. The price will be… this much.”

“…!”

“Hmm. Looks like you’re pleased.”

The amount Greg presented was ridiculous.

At least enough to last me two months without bothering some lowlife!

No, it was even enough for a sandwich stuffed with meat once a week!

Sandwiches, meat, pizza, and burgers.

I swallowed the saliva pooling in my mouth and jumped up from my chair.

This gesture meant I won’t be haggling anymore, let’s just go with this.

Greg handed me a cash card filled with money.

As I didn’t have a bag or pockets, he must have thought it would be cumbersome for me to carry bundles of cash.

It was quite a kind gesture.

Unlike others, I had to carry cash around as I didn’t insert chips.

The cash card was a generous relief that significantly lightened my load.

In appreciation, I bounced around on the floor, expressing my thanks.

I wanted to wave my hands, but then my squishy arms would be exposed, so this was the best I could do for now.

I wondered if my feelings were properly conveyed.

Greg smirked faintly and said,

“It was a good deal, little one. And thank you for pulling the weeds in front of the store.”

“…”

When did he see that?

Surprised by his unexpected words, I froze for a moment.

He then closed the shop door and walked inside.

Did I really not notice, even with my sharpened senses from gaining powers?

Maybe he really wasn’t just any fixer; he was a rather formidable person.

I stroked my arms that were suddenly covered in goosebumps and stepped back into the alley.

Then I suddenly found the ugly red ring I didn’t sell to Greg in my hand.

‘This… let’s just toss it.’

Whoosh.

I carelessly threw the ugly ring down the drain.

It didn’t even float on the water but sank limply down.

As I silently watched the ring sink, a thought suddenly crossed my mind.

‘Thinking back, why did that drug addict have that? He seemed too weak to be a vampire. Did he find it by chance?’

The vampires in the comics were supposed to be formidable enemies who would challenge the protagonist.

Why on earth did that frail man have such a dangerous ring in his possession?

I couldn’t help but feel considerable suspicion.

However, conveniently enough, the answer to that suspicion would come the very next day.

“Gah, cough… I found you! You piece of trash! I’ll kill you! I swear I will!”

A man with a blue bruise on his forehead approached me with an angry face.

And he was accompanied by an army of gaunt, mummified ghouls.

Wait, was this guy a vampire?