Chapter 5: Burgering In Another World

Ronnie walked down the dirt path, scrolling through the Amazen Shop System on his holographic panel. His mind was racing with possibilities, and he couldn't help but wonder just how far this system could go.

"Alright, let's see," he muttered, typing into the search bar. "Is it even possible to buy a fucking Abrams tank?"

He laughed at the absurdity of the idea, but curiosity got the better of him. He hit "Search," and the results popped up. Most of the items were toy tanks—plastic replicas with tiny cannons and treads that didn't move. But at the top of the list was a note, glowing faintly:

[ Reach $10,000,000 Worth of Sold Goods to Unlock Military Hardware Section. ]

Ronnie's eyes widened. For a moment, he just stared at the screen, his brain struggling to process what he'd just read. Then, a grin spread across his face, and he let out a loud, triumphant laugh.

"Hahahahaha! Yes! Hell yeah!" he shouted, pumping his fist in the air. "Ten million bucks, and I can buy a tank? Oh, this is happening. This is definitely happening."

He closed the shop panel, his mind buzzing with ideas. "Alright, first step: make ten million dollars. Second step: buy a tank. Third step: become the king of this world. Easy."

As he walked, his excitement was momentarily interrupted when he stepped on a sharp stone.

"Ow! What the fuck?" Ronnie yelped, hopping on one foot. He looked down at his bare foot, which was already healing from the small cut.

"Okay, the healing ability is impressive," he muttered, flexing his toes. "But I can still feel the pain. That's just rude."

Determined to avoid any more foot-related injuries, Ronnie opened the shop again and navigated to the footwear section. He scrolled through the options, eventually settling on a pair of sturdy brown shoes.

[ Item: Durable Brown Shoes. Price: $125. Purchase? Y/N ]

"A hundred and twenty-five bucks? Steep, but worth it," Ronnie said, tapping "Yes."

The shoes materialized in his hands, and he quickly slipped them on. They fit perfectly, the soles sturdy and comfortable. He took a few experimental steps, grinning as he felt the difference.

"Much better," he said, looking down at his feet. Then he glanced at his outfit—a ripped tunic and pants that looked like they'd been through a war, paired with brand-new shoes.

"This is the most meta outfit ever," Ronnie said, laughing. "I look like I stole these shoes from some poor bastard. Which, technically, I did. Thanks, Amazen."

Not satisfied with his hobo-chic look, Ronnie decided to upgrade further. He searched for a t-shirt, jogging pants, and a cap, quickly adding them to his cart.

[ Item: Plain White T-Shirt. Price: $20]

[Item: Black Jogging Pants. Price: $22]

[ Item: Baseball Cap. Price: $17 ]

He tapped "Purchase," and the clothes appeared in his hands. Ronnie changed quickly, tossing his old tunic aside. He adjusted the cap, pulling it low over his eyes, and looked down at his new outfit.

"Now we're talking," he said, striking a pose. "Feudal world, meet streetwear Ronnie."

He checked his balance:

[ Current Balance: $564. ]

"Not bad," Ronnie said, nodding approvingly. "Still got enough for a burger or two. Maybe even a milkshake if I'm feeling fancy."

Ronnie continued walking down the dirt path, the sun beating down on him. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and he squinted against the glare.

"Man, isn't there a taxi or something around here?" he muttered, fanning himself with his cap. "Or, I don't know, a magic carpet? A dragon? Anything?"

Just as he was about to give up and start complaining to the sky, he spotted something in the distance. Through the heat waves rising from the ground, he saw a wagon pulled by a horse.

"Finally!" Ronnie shouted, waving his arms wildly. "Hey! Over here!"

The wagon slowed to a stop, and Ronnie jogged up to it. The driver was a balding old man wearing a layered tunic, a leather-strapped cardigan, and a robe that suggested he might be a noble—or at least someone of importance.

The man raised an eyebrow at Ronnie's enthusiastic waving. "Going my way?" he asked, his voice warm but tinged with curiosity.

Ronnie, still in the mood for theatrics, placed a hand over his heart and bowed slightly. "Will thou let this humble peasant climb thy wagon?" he asked, gesturing overly formally.

The man burst out laughing. "What are you doing? Come on up!"

Ronnie grinned and climbed into the back of the wagon, which was filled with crates and sacks. He found a spot to sit and leaned back, stretching his legs.

The man glanced back at him, looking slightly apologetic. "I apologize for the cramped space."

Ronnie waved a hand dismissively, still playing along. "Thou shouldn't apologize for this lowly peasant," he said in an exaggeratedly submissive tone.

The man frowned, clearly uneasy with Ronnie's antics. "If you say so. My name's Florian."

Ronnie sighed, finally dropping the archaic speech. "Mine's Ronnie, but you can call me Ron. Speaking like that is exhausting."

Florian chuckled, his unease fading. "I thought you were a noble or from a royal family by the way you spoke—and by what you're wearing."

Ronnie looked down at his outfit—a plain white t-shirt, black jogging pants, and a baseball cap. He smirked. "Oh, I see. Nah, I'm just from another country. I'm a commoner there."

Florian tilted his head, confused. "Another country? Is it beyond this continent?"

Ronnie hesitated, then nodded sheepishly. "Yeah, our ship got caught in a storm, and I ended up here." He added silently, What a way to make an excuse.

Florian seemed to accept this explanation and didn't press further. Ronnie, eager to change the subject, asked, "So, where are you headed?"

"To the next city," Florian replied, flicking the reins to keep the horse moving. "It's a decent-sized place. Has all kinds of goods you might need—an inn, shops, and, most importantly, a way to earn a living."

Ronnie perked up. "A way to earn a living? What do you mean?"

Florian glanced back at him, a hint of a smile on his face. "You really are from another country, aren't you? The Adventurer's Guild is there. You can become an adventurer."

Ronnie's eyes widened. "Adventurer? Like, go on adventures and stuff?"

Florian chuckled. "Exactly. Adventurers take on dangerous quests—vanquishing beasts, collecting rare herbs from dangerous forests, defending villages from monster waves. People post quests, and adventurers complete them for money. But quests vary based on your rank. The lowest is F-rank, and the highest is S-rank. There are even rumors of SS-rank adventurers, though no one's ever seen one. Higher ranks mean more fame and money. Hell, if you're good enough, you could even become a noble."

Ronnie listened intently, observing Florian. "You sound like you were one. An adventurer, I mean."

Florian's smile faltered, and for a moment, he looked distant. "I was. Not everyone can awaken high-tier magic or have a talent for swords. I was just an F-rank adventurer when I was younger. Back then, I met my wife. She was working as a receptionist at the Adventurer's Guild branch in a town south of here. Over time, we fell in love, got married, and had two kids."

His voice grew quieter, and Ronnie could see the pain in his eyes. "Then… a monster wave attacked the town. My wife was working at the guild when it happened. Only a few survived, and she… wasn't one of them."

Ronnie's grin faded, replaced by a look of genuine sympathy. "I'm sorry, man. That's… that's rough."

Florian nodded, his hands tightening on the reins. "It was the darkest time of my life. But I had to keep going—for my kids. I retired as a D-rank adventurer and promised myself I'd focus on taking care of them. Now, I'm a merchant. The roads aren't always safe, but I'm a retired adventurer, so I don't need to hire protection. This job feeds my family, and… I'm happy."

He smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. Ronnie respected the man's resilience and didn't press further. Instead, he leaned back against the crates, staring up at the sky.

"Adventurer, huh?" Ronnie said leaning, a grin slowly spreading across his face. "Sounds like my kind of gig."

Ronnie leaned back against the crates, his mind racing with ideas. "So, being a merchant sounds like a decent gig, but what's the catch? Do the city lords tax you guys or something?"

Florian nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. "Of course. There are gate tolls—merchants like me pay depending on how many goods we're carrying. Merchants from outside the city also have to pay for stalls in the market. If you're bringing goods from another kingdom or region, you'll pay a tax at customs stations. And then there are… extra fees."

Ronnie raised an eyebrow. "Extra fees? Like bribes?"

Florian chuckled dryly. "Something like that. The Marquis hunts down corrupt officials, but some still slip through the cracks. You'll have to pay those 'extra fees' now and then to keep things running smoothly."

Ronnie smirked. "Sounds like bureaucracy is universal, no matter the world."

He paused, then an idea struck him. "What if a merchant sells something… rare? Like, really rare. Something no one's ever seen before."

Florian glanced back, curious. "Rare goods can fetch a high price, especially if they're useful or unique. Why? Do you have something in mind?"

Ronnie grinned and held out his hand. In a flash, a burger wrapped in paper appeared.

Florian's eyes widened, and he nearly dropped the reins. "You have a Subspace Storage?!"

Ronnie blinked, confused. "A what now?"

"A Subspace Storage," Florian repeated, his voice tinged with awe. "It's a dimensional storage space. Some citizens awaken it as a skill during their coming-of-age ceremony. Heroes are known to have it too, but it's incredibly rare."

Ronnie's confusion deepened. "Wait, hold up. Citizens awaken skills? Like, magic or something?"

Florian nodded. "Yes, but not everyone. During the coming-of-age ceremony, most people awaken the mana in their bodies. Some are lucky enough to awaken an extra skill tailored to their true passion—like swordsmanship, magic, or even merchant skills like Subspace Storage. But it's rare. I didn't awaken a skill, though my status is up to par."

Ronnie tilted his head. "Status? What's that?"

"It's like… a detailed summary of your abilities," Florian explained. "It shows your strength, agility, endurance, and other attributes in numbers. Some people awaken skills related to their status, but most don't."

Ronnie's eyes lit up. "So it's like an RPG game. Stats, skills, all that jazz."

Florian looked puzzled. "An RPG game?"

Ronnie waved a hand dismissively. "Never mind. So, this Subspace Storage thing—it's like a pocket dimension for storing stuff?"

"Exactly," Florian said. "Merchants with that skill can transport goods without physically carrying them. It's a huge advantage."

Ronnie nodded, though he was still processing the information. "Well, I don't have a Subspace Storage, but I've got something similar. Different skill, I guess."

Florian's curiosity was piqued, but Ronnie quickly changed the subject, holding up the burger. "Anyway, this? It's a kind of bread. A different kind of bread."

Florian hesitated, eyeing the burger suspiciously. "A… bread?"

"Yeah," Ronnie said, handing it over. "Try it."

Florian took the burger, still uneasy, but the smell seemed to win him over. He took a cautious bite, and his eyes widened.

"What's this?!" he exclaimed, his mouth full. "It's so delicious!"

He quickly took another bite, savoring the flavors. "I've never had anything like this before. Is this a product from your country?"

Ronnie grinned, leaning back with a satisfied expression. "Yep. It's called a burger. Pretty great, right?"

Florian nodded enthusiastically, finishing the burger in record time. "This could sell for a fortune in the city. If you can produce more of these, you'll make a killing as a merchant."

Ronnie's smile widened. "Oh, I plan to. But first, I need to figure out how to make them without my… uh, special skill. And maybe set up a stall or something."

Florian chuckled. "Well, you've got the product. Now you just need the business sense."

Ronnie laughed. "Yeah, that's the hard part. But hey, if I can survive monkey gorillas and avalanches, I can figure this out."