57. A Strange Trade

John stepped through the town's gates and found himself on a bustling main street lined with shops and packed with people. The cobblestone road stretched far ahead, flanked by buildings with wooden signs swinging above their entrances. Each sign was covered in unfamiliar symbols, yet somehow, John could understand their meaning — words like Bakery, Blacksmith, and Tailor appeared clear in his mind, even though the writing itself was foreign.

The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat, fresh bread, and something sweet — perhaps pastries. Merchants shouted from their stalls, advertising their goods. Farmers with carts loaded with vegetables and fruits bargained with customers. The rhythmic clatter of horses' hooves mixed with the chatter of townsfolk, creating a lively, chaotic atmosphere.

John couldn't help but marvel at how different this world felt. It wasn't just the medieval architecture or the old-fashioned clothing — there was a certain energy in the air, something unfamiliar yet oddly comforting.

"Focus, John," he reminded himself. "Figure out what you need first."

His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since waking up. Instinctively, he reached for his pocket — only to realize he had no money. His sleek black pants and stylish white shirt had no hidden coins.

"Great... no cash, no food... and no idea how things work around here," John muttered under his breath.

For now, he decided to keep walking, hoping to find a solution.

As he strolled through the crowded streets, merchants occasionally called out to him.

"Fine silk robes! Only the best for nobles like you!"

"Fresh meat pies! Straight from the oven!"

John ignored them and kept moving. He didn't want to attract more attention than he already had. His modern outfit — crisp white shirt, fitted black pants, and polished shoes — made him stick out like a sore thumb.

Suddenly, a middle-aged woman stepped directly into his path. She wore a simple brown dress with an apron tied around her waist, and a colorful scarf covered her hair. Her face was round and kind, but her sharp eyes locked onto John like a hawk spotting prey.

"Young man!" she called out, her voice both curious and excited. "Where did you get those clothes?"

John blinked, surprised. The woman's words should have been foreign, yet somehow he understood her perfectly — and when he spoke, the words came out naturally, as though he had been speaking the language all his life. At first, at the gate, he hadn't noticed, but seeing the difference in the written language, it occurred to him that somehow he could speak and understand the writings.

"I... bought them from a merchant," John replied, choosing his words carefully.

The woman's gaze narrowed, and she circled him like a merchant inspecting fine silk. She tugged at his sleeve, ran her fingers down the fabric of his shirt, and kept muttering to herself.

"Incredible stitching... smooth as silk but stronger... where did you say you bought this?"

John realized this might be his chance.

"If you like it," John said, "I can sell it to you."

The woman's eyes lit up. "Really?" she asked eagerly.

Without giving John time to respond, she grabbed his wrist and practically dragged him down the street. John stumbled after her, dodging pedestrians as they weaved through the crowd.

If John wanted to, with his strength, he could have stopped the lady, but he didn't. He also wanted to see where she was taking him.

Moments later, they stopped in front of a quaint little shop with a wooden sign hanging above the door. The symbols on the sign were unfamiliar, yet John instinctively knew it said Maris' Tailor Shop.

The woman — who John assumed must be Maris — pushed the door open and guided him inside.

The shop smelled of fresh linen and polished wood. Neatly folded fabrics lined the shelves, ranging from rough wool to shimmering silk. Mannequins displayed finely stitched tunics, cloaks, and dresses. A wooden counter near the back was stacked with sewing tools — needles, spools of thread, and measuring tapes.

"Alright, young man," Maris said, clapping her hands. "Let me see the full set."

John hesitated for a moment, then sighed. He unbuttoned his shirt and handed it to her. His shoes and pants followed, leaving him standing awkwardly in his undershirt and shorts.

Maris examined the clothes with intense focus, running her fingers over every seam. "This material... I've never seen anything like it. The stitching is so precise... the texture is incredible!"

She turned back to John, her eyes practically sparkling. "I'll buy the set for twelve gold coins. That's my final offer."

John had no idea how much gold was worth in this world, but judging by Maris's excitement, his clothes were valuable. He briefly considered bargaining but decided against it — he couldn't afford to waste time.

"Deal," John agreed.

Maris hurried behind her counter and returned with a small leather pouch jingling with coins. She handed it to John with a wide smile.

"Pleasure doing business with you," she said. "Now, let's get you something more... appropriate."

She led John to a rack of simple yet sturdy clothes — mostly tunics, trousers, and boots. John selected a dark gray tunic, black pants, a sturdy leather belt, and long black boots. The outfit blended well with the townsfolk's clothing, making him feel far less conspicuous.

"That'll be two silver coins," Maris said.

John opened the pouch and was surprised to find 11 round, golden coins inside and some silver coins— each one stamped with a lion's head on one side and a castle on the other. He handed over two silver coins, which were smaller and less detailed than the gold ones.

"Here," Maris said, handing him a folded brown cloak. "It's free — just in case you want to cover up."

John nodded gratefully. "Thanks."

"By the way, do you know if there's an inn where I can stay?" John asked.

"There's an inn just down the road to the right. Go past one house, and you'll see The Silver Moon. Look up at the signboard," Maris replied with a smile.

As he stepped outside, now dressed like a local and with more then ten gold coins still in his pouch, John allowed himself a small smile.

"Alright," he muttered to himself. "Now... let's figure out what this world is all about."

(Hello, guys! If you like the story, I would love a review or comment. Thank you!)