"So have you made up your minds yet?" the merchant asked raising an eyebrow.
"Eh, let's circle back to this later," Boros said glaring at Akeno and Kinuko.
"Of course, of course. Let's head back to the front," the merchant said, leading the way with an easy smile.
As they walked, he looked over at Akeno. "So, what kind of weapons do you use?"
"Me?" Akeno blinked, pointing at herself. "Yeah, you," the merchant said with a friendly grin.
"Uh…. Throwing weapons, mostly," she replied, giving a sheepish smile.
"Interesting," he nodded. "Any specific type?"
"I mess around with shuriken's, but I mainly use Kunai's," she said.
"Kunai's, huh?" he said, a bit surprised. "Now that's not something you see everyday around here." He chuckled. "You got one on you?"
"Yeah, actually," Akeno said, reaching into her pouch and handing one over. The merchant turned it over in his hand, examining it.
"You see, we don't usually make these around here. Most folks here in the West wouldn't know what to do with one."
"But this….. this is solid. If you leave it with me, I'll pass it to the blacksmith. For the right price, I'm sure he could forge a whole batch for you."
"What about you?" the merchant asked, turning to Kinuko. She shifted a bit.
"Uh…. I use throwing weapons too, but I'm more into short swords – ones without a hand guard."
"Ahh, a refined taste," the merchant said with a knowing nod. "No worries – everyone's got their preferences. I'm pretty sure we've got a stash somewhere." He chuckled and pointed toward a corner of the shop.
"Why don't you check over there?"
"Alright," Kinuko said, already heading in that direction.
"I'll help you pick something out," Akeno offered, trailing after her. It wasn't far from the counter, so they could still hear the merchant chatting. He turned to Boros.
"And you, young man?" Got a favorite weapon?" Boros scratched the back of his neck. "Huh? Well…. not really. I'm not much of a weapons guy. My fighting style's more hands-on – literally, I need my fingers to use my ability."
The merchant raised an eyebrow.
"I mean, I can use swords and all, but most of the time they just get in the way," Boros continued. "Besides, if I ever need one, I can just make it with my ability."
"Well now," the merchant said, clearly intrigued. "That's definitely something you don't hear everyday."
"You mentioned you need your fingers to use your abilities, right?" the merchant asked, curious.
"Yeah, that's right," Boros nodded.
"So…. If someone were to, say, chop them off mid-fight, you'd be out of luck?"
Boros smirked. "Not exactly. I could still use my abilities – it's just….. complicated. The fingers aren't for the power itself, they're part of how I fight. Style, not function, you know?"
"Ahh, got it," the merchant said, stroking his beard. "Sounds like one hell of a Longinus you've got there." He chuckled.
"Wouldn't want to be on the wrong end of that."
As the merchant and Boros chatted, a man who'd slipped into the shop earlier lingered near the back, pretending to browse. But his ears were sharp.
"An ability that lets him create weapons?" He muttered under his breath, a twisted grin spreading across his face.
"That's gotta be the Metal Longinus…. Heh." He ran a tongue slowly across the edge of his blade, eyes gleaming with bloodlust.
"Doesn't that mean he's strong?, Doesn't that mean I can kill him?.... Heh, I get to kill someone fun."
Without warning, he lunged from the shadows – faster than the eye could track – blade aimed straight for Boros's throat.
But just as the strike was about to land, Boros moved. Effortless. Instant. He caught the attacker's wrist mid-air, twisted behind him in a blink, and pressed his hand to the man's throat.
"Well, well…." Boros said coolly, his voice low and dangerous. "What do we have here?"
"He caught me?" the man choked out, wide-eyed. "How? I was moving too fast… I came at him from behind. No way he should've seen that. Just who the hell is this guy?"
He tried to wriggle free, but Boros tightened his grip."Easy now," Boros said calmly, dragging his fingers just enough along the man's throat to remind him of his position.
"Wouldn't want to do something stupid."
The merchant, still frozen behind the counter, stared with his mouth half open.
"Wh-what just happened? Where'd this guy even come from?!"
To him it looked like Boros had been talking one second, and the next – he was holding someone by the throat like it was nothing.
Akeno and Kinuko rushed over. "Shiro! What happened? Who is that?!" Akeno asked, alarmed.
"Old man," Boros called over.
"Y-yeah?" the merchant stammered.
"If I fought this guy here…. what would happen to your shop?"
The merchant blinked, then swallowed hard. "It….. it'd be leveled."
Boros smirked. "Thought as much." He glanced at the man still trapped in his grasp. "Hear that? We're not doing this here. Bad for business."
He looked to the girls. "Akeno, Kinuko – stay with the old man. Keep him safe, I'll be back."
And then – whoosh – Boros vanished in a blur, taking the would-be attacker with him.
"Shiro!" Akeno shouted after him, her voice echoing through the shop.
"It's okay," Kinuko said softly, her cheeks a faint pink. "If he says he'll be back…. He'll be back."
The merchant was still shaken, eyes wide. "T-That guy….. he was wearing black…""Black?"
Akeno asked, raising an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to mean something?"
The merchant nodded slowly. "Remember what I said earlier – about clothes having functions?"
"Yeah?" both girls replied.
"Colors matters too. Black's the mark of an assassin." He looked around his own store like he was only just realizing what happened. "An assassin…. In my shop?" he muttered to himself.
Then he looked at them, concern etched into his face. "Is your friend... a wanted man?"
"No," Kinuko said quickly. "At least, he shouldn't be. We only just got to the West a few days ago. That's why we're here trying to gear up and join a guild."
The merchant exhaled, tension still in his shoulders."I see… well, that's good to hear." He paused, then added gravely.
"I don't know who your friend really is, but if an assassin's after him that usually means there's a bounty on his head."
.....
Boros landed hard at the forest's edge, slamming through branches as both bodies crashed into the trees with a thunderous crack.Leaves scattered, bark splintered – then silence.
The two were thrown apart but landed just a few feet from each other, still locked in each other's line of sight.
Boros rose first, brushing dirt and leaves off his jacket with a calm, practiced motion. He looked up, eyes sharp, voice low and controlled.
"Alright…. So who the hell are you?"