To not lose sight of the literal reason I was out here, I more or less snuck close to Niyue. On a closer glance, the girl didn't seem as atrocious as I remembered. And she didn't smell either. Then again, David's memories weren't necessarily that reliable, so I decided to try something else.
Me: What were you talking about?
Niyue: What do you mean?
Me: With that villager boy.
Niyue: Villager- oh, you mean… I was just asking him where his parents were and what he was doing.
Me: His parents are probably working.
Niyue: No, they're dead. He's running around to build stamina, so he can grow up strong and exact revenge.
The what the fuck? That kid's parents were already dead? And he was training for revenge? He's like seven!
Me: I see. Must have been hard for him.
Niyue: Yes.
Me: Are you enjoying the outing so far?
Niyue: Yes, it is a nice place.
Me: Different from home?
Niyue: Home. What is home to you?
Me: The place where I'm the most comfortable.
Niyue: I don't have such a place. So, not that different.
She smiled and although she smiled widely, there was something artificial about it. Like she was putting up a mask, hiding away her real feelings. I suppose that was a given, given our conversation. Also, there was an air of maturity to her.
I suppose David was probably just assuming shit again… Still, it was too early to tell so I decided to keep observing.
Money worked pretty much the same way it did back on earth.
"That would be 3 Bani," the vendor said, handing me a basket of fresh bread. Smelled delicious and I couldn't wait to dig in.
Niyue took one bread and tried it on the spot. No comments.
These people used the currency Bani. Paper notes started from ten and onwards. While the lesser ones were made using cheap metal. They had some gold and silver coins which were mostly ornamental and held no value outside the noble and royal treasuries. One Bani was worth less than a dollar but for my sanity, I just assumed Bani= dollar and rolled with it.
This market was a good start for me. In my previous life David never bothered to personally shop. He'd often task butlers or just random servants to buy what he wanted. They fulfilled their jobs and while most were probably honest and didn't steal, I didn't trust people.
Anything made of metal is too expensive. Food was the cheapest. Particularly bread made with cheap grains. Some of the bread had small pebbles and stones too (I only saw them near the border between the two parts). The bread I had back at the mansion was pretty good, and these were also okay in taste. I sure wasn't going to try the cheap stuff out and break my teeth. Hence, I bought the expensive basket. Mostly for me but also for the family. I had to score brownie points somehow….
I had a 50 Bani note on me and if I wanted to, I could buy 150 loaves of cheap bread. I couldn't buy a knife to cut the bread with. I'd need 10 Bani more. I'd need at least double that to buy a sword. "This is 160," the man said. Armor cost triple. Seriously, these things were expensive. Most people couldn't make 50 Bani in a month, let alone spend it all for a shiny new sword. Hence, ordinary people didn't have anything to defend themselves with!
Or so I would have concluded if this part of the town wasn't for the rich guys. "Are weapon prices the same everywhere?" I asked.
I spoke to the butler but the shopkeeper overheard. "No. Depends on quality. These are well made."
"We can find cheaper options just two blocks down," Alberto whispered.
"I see. They truly are of good quality. However, I only came to browse today. I will be back in the coming days," I said, heading out. I tried my best to imitate how my memories sounded but it was still a tad jarring.
The shopkeeper maintained a smile but he was probably a little annoyed. Who wouldn't be of window shoppers wasting all their time? He did maintain proper courtesy though.
I didn't lie. I was eventually going to come back here. Though instead of days or weeks it was probably going to take years.
Anyway, we continued on and examined the local cuisine and I kept an eye out for how people acted. Not enough spice.
"Are these all the spices our region produces?" I asked.
"Yes," the vendor said, pointing at three different spices: clove, parsley, and coriander.
He also had some cardamom imported from the Onion.
I suppose that's still more than expected.
Local culture was similar to that of the western world during the late eighteen hundreds. Most of the carriages were pulled by horses but I saw some steam powered ones every now and then. They were so damn loud!