Ever since my roof stopped leaking, I'd been sleeping like a baby.
The outsiders had even fixed the rickety shed in my backyard, and my scraggly flock of hens—apparently impressed by the renovations—started laying eggs again.
Before long, I had more eggs than I could eat. And, as nature would have it, some of them hatched into fluffy little chicks—tiny bundles of pale yellow down, each one waddling around like it owned the place.
They were adorable. Adorable… and unbelievably loud. Their constant chirping turned my nights into a feathery symphony of insomnia.
So I figured I'd ask those outsiders if they wanted any. Maybe sell a few.
One day, when I spotted a group heading my way, I made sure my yellow circle was stuck proudly above my head and hurried over, cradling a basket of peeping chicks.
Truth be told, I wasn't planning to charge much. In fact, if someone seemed willing to give them a good home, I'd have been happy to part with them for free.
What I didn't expect was for one of the outsiders to react like I'd just announced I was giving away gold.
He practically jumped out of his boots and started yelling—though for some reason, he was yelling at a strangely shaped brick he held in his hand.
"Everyone get over here! Novice Village is selling pets now!"
Suddenly, a swarm of outsiders descended on the village like a plague of locusts, churning up so much dust you could barely see the road. By the time they finished streaming in, the village's rutted dirt path looked almost level.
And what had brought this great migration? Apparently, every single one of them was here to buy my chicks.
The one in front stepped up, eyes shining.
"How much for a chicken?"
I figured eight copper coins was fair—enough to feed me for two meals.
"Eight—ahh-CHOO!"
Sorry. A stray feather tickled my nose so badly I couldn't hold it in.
The crowd erupted.
"Eight thousand?!"
No, no, no… How could it possibly be that expensive? I'm not some bandit holding poultry for ransom.
I opened my mouth to explain—eight coins, not eight thousand—but before I could get a word out, the outsiders were buzzing like an overturned beehive.
"Only eight thousand?! Wow… this game finally grew a conscience!"
Game? Eight thousand a chicken is what you call generous?
"Yeah! Finally, a free pet!"
Wait, wait—free? It's not free. It's eight coins. Eight. And also… do you people really keep chickens as pets?
"Last month I bought that 388 gift pack—opened nearly a hundred of 'em! Couldn't get a pet to save my life. Just a mountain of useless potions."
"Looks like they changed devs recently. Guess all our complaints weren't for nothing."
Changed what?
Ow… my head hurts. I don't understand a word of this.
The outsider at the front stepped forward and tossed a bulging money pouch at my feet.
It landed with a thud so heavy the ground actually shuddered.
"Here. Eight thousand," he said matter-of-factly, plucking a chick from my basket.
Then he looked up. "Can I buy another one?"
I stared down at the basket in my arms, still dazed. Twenty chicks in total. Even if I tore each one into five pieces, there still wouldn't be enough for this mob.
I shook my head. "Only these twenty. Best if everyone just gets one. Fair's fair."
Apparently, that was not the right thing to say.
The moment the words left my mouth, the outsiders drew their weapons—steel flashing in the sunlight, blades pointed at each other.
My heart nearly leapt out of my chest, and I stumbled backward.
"Damn it! I knew this game wouldn't be that generous!"
"Server-wide limit of twenty? You've gotta be kidding me!"
"Well, it is a free pet for only eight thousand copper. Rare stuff."
Excuse me, miss… did you just hear yourself? Eight thousand copper coins is not free.
They didn't seem to care. The crowd broke into an all-out brawl, swinging swords and staves, all for the chance to claim one of my noisy little chicks.
I glanced over my shoulder at the chicken coop. The old hen was sitting tight on her nest, and judging by her determined expression, there'd be a few more chicks in a couple of days.
Then I looked back at that heavy pouch of money.
Outsiders are so strange. Do they like chicks that much? Willing to pay eight thousand for a single puffball of feathers? Either they're incredibly rich… or just incredibly weird.
To be honest, earning money this way made me feel a bit uneasy.
But then again—if I don't take it, it's just lying there. And it's not like they're being forced.
So I told them, "There are only twenty today, but in a couple of days there'll be more. The mother hen's working hard on her next batch."
The weapons went down. The fighting stopped. For a brief, blissful moment, there was peace.
And then they all turned to yell at me.
"So it's limited-time but not limited-quantity?! Why the hell didn't you say so earlier?! What kind of an idiot wrote this quest guide?!"