[Frontier Town · Main Street]
Xiao Yu wanted to die. For real this time.
He was currently moving with a "lateral crab-walk" so awkward that even the crustaceans on the riverbank would have crawled away in shame. The large red apron he had borrowed from a local auntie was barely wide enough to cover his front. However, with every gust of the ill-intentioned mountain wind, the corners of the apron flapped up and down like a tattered funeral flag.
With every flap, Xiao Yu felt a sharp chill on his backside. It wasn't just the wind; it was the final remnants of his dignity as a "Summoned Hero," leaking out from his spine and dissolving into the dusty air of the town.
"Look, a pervert..." A middle-aged woman carrying a basket hurried her child along, her eyes filled with the kind of disgust one usually reserved for a plague rat.
"Mommy, why is that man showing his butt?" a young boy pointed, his voice filled with a pure, innocent curiosity that felt like a blunt knife twisting in Xiao Yu's self-esteem.
Xiao Yu rolled his dead-fish eyes. He was beyond caring, or at least he tried to be. He would have happily laid down and slept until the end of time, but he knew that two more blocks ahead was the town guard's post. Even with a measly 3 points of Stamina, he wasn't about to break the world record for the fastest Hero to be arrested for public indecency.
"Mia, stop licking your fingers! Move! Run like there's a steak waiting for you!"
With a low growl, Xiao Yu grabbed Mia—who was busy staring longingly at a nearby bun stall—and dashed into a tailor shop marked by a pair of rusty scissors.
[Old Peter's Tailor Shop]
SLAM!
The door burst open. Old Peter, the tailor, was bent over feeding dried fish to his fat cat. The sudden noise made his hand jerk, scattering fish treats all over the floor.
He looked up to see a beggar so filthy he looked like he'd crawled out of a swamp. The man had a garish red cloth tied around his waist and was gasping for air. Behind him stood a scruffy girl with mismatched eyes, who was currently staring at the fish treats on the floor with a hunger that far surpassed the cat's.
"I need clothes," Xiao Yu said, holding up three fingers. His tone was as grave as a death sentence. "Three requirements: One, it must cover my ass. Two, it shouldn't make me look like a cultist about to self-immolate. Three, I only have ten copper coins."
Old Peter rolled his eyes, picked up a fish treat, and wiped his hands on his apron with a sneer. "Ten copper? Kid, the cheapest linen shirt I have is twenty. Looking at you, you've already lost your dignity; don't lose my time. Get out before I set the cat on you."
Xiao Yu didn't move. His dead-fish eyes narrowed. Back in his home world, he had developed a "Radar Eye" for finding the cheapest clearance items.
He ignored the gleaming silk robes and focused on a dusty, foul-smelling wooden crate in the corner.
"Old man, is there anything in that trash box?" Xiao Yu pointed.
Peter blinked, taking a moment to remember. "Oh, that? That was left by a drunken alchemist to settle a debt. The madman used it for corrosion-resistance experiments. It got drenched in potions, turned hard as an iron plate, and it's moldy as hell. It's a piece of trash. I was going to burn it tomorrow."
Xiao Yu walked over and touched it. A pungent smell of mildew mixed with old chemicals hit him. It was a dull grey robe that felt strangely metallic to the touch—and it was heavy. Ridiculously heavy.
"Uncle... this 'moldy iron plate'... ten coppers. Deal?"
Peter looked at Xiao Yu like he was an idiot. "That thing is so heavy it'll stunt your growth. It's a dud. You sure you want to spend your life savings on a pile of junk?"
"Deal," Xiao Yu said with a tragic sense of relief. "As long as I can take off this cursed red apron, I'll wear it even if it's a slab of moldy lead!"
[Half an hour later · Outside the Shop]
Xiao Yu emerged.
He was now encased in the heavy grey robe. The fabric was so stiff it went clack-clack with every step, making him look like a zombie in a burlap sack. With his 3 Stamina, Xiao Yu nearly buckled the moment he put it on—this wasn't a robe; it was a suit of wet cement. But it was long. It reached his ankles, covering everything from his waist to his heels.
However... the purchase had wiped them out. They were officially broke.
"Xiao Yu..." Mia floated behind him like a ghost, tugging at his stiff hem. Her face was scrunched up like a sad dumpling. "We have zero money now. Those ten coppers... that was for my meat bun tomorrow. My last meal..."
"Endure it," Xiao Yu said, his face a mask of existential void. "At least we are 'respectable' people now. Let's go to the Adventurers' Guild."
"To do what? Fight the Demon King for a bounty?" Mia's eyes sparkled for a split second.
"To work, you idiot," Xiao Yu pointed at his stomach. "We're taking G-rank quests. Clearing sewers, catching rats, painting walls... as long as they provide food, I'd even deliver a calf for a cow."
[Adventurers' Guild · Quest Board]
The hall was filled with tall, heroic adventurers with shining swords. When Xiao Yu stood there in his "Moldy Zombie Robe," a three-meter radius automatically cleared around him—the stench of alchemical mold was a powerful weapon in itself.
Ignoring the stares, Xiao Yu plucked a few crumpled papers from the very bottom of the board.
Quest 1: Clear the black sludge from the West Street sewers (Reward: 2 loaves of black bread, 5 copper coins)
Quest 2: Paint the back wall for Old Peter the Tailor (Reward: A plate of leftovers)
Quest 3: Repair the drafty cowshed outside town (Reward: 3 copper coins)
"Xiao Yu, you want me to dig sludge?" Mia stared at the quest sheet, her mismatched eyes full of stubborn defiance. "I am a Vampire! A noble, elegant Vampire! I want beef! Thick, juicy beef! You can dig that stinking crap yourself!"
"Digging sludge is safer, and they give us two loaves of bread," Xiao Yu muttered as he struggled to drag the weight of his robe toward the exit. "Besides, when you're digging sludge, your face is down. No one can recognize us. It's much more dignified than being a 'Red Apron Pervert.' Now come on, grab a shovel, or there won't even be any sludge left for us to dig."
Under the setting sun, the man proclaimed by the Church as the "One and Only Hope of Salvation" was shuffling along in an iron-plate robe, followed by a cranky vampire, seriously researching which part of the sewer had the thickest mud.