SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant

Zafira’s mouth curved faintly. ”I would say it’s better than most.”

”I like that answer.”

Augusto tapped two fingers against the side of the box, thinking. ”What you’re asking for is not the kind of thing I leave lying around in the front for idiots to touch. Precision work is expensive, and people with no control love ruining expensive things.” He shifted his attention toward Trafalgar. ”As for you, I’m assuming you want the opposite. Useful things. Durable things. Things you’ll actually carry instead of admiring for five minutes.”

”Show me what you’ve got,” Trafalgar said. ”I need practical items. Storage for supplies. Water. Food. Navigation. Anything good enough to justify its price.” Augusto’s grin sharpened.

”There it is. That’s the kind of sentence I like hearing.”

He set the box fully on the counter and moved the cloth aside. Several items lay inside, each resting in its own space. Nothing gaudy. No needless gold. No merchant tricks dressed as treasure. Augusto knew his audience better than that.

He picked up the first one, a dark silver bracelet with a plain outer surface and a band of tiny runes engraved along the inside.

”This,” he said, holding it up between two fingers, ”is the Pilgrim’s Hollow Bracelet. Epic Rank. Very respectable item. Very boring to the wrong kind of person, which is usually how you know something is worth buying.”

He placed it in front of Trafalgar.

”It contains an inner storage space meant for non-living supplies. Food, water, medicine, dried herbs, spare tools, ordinary materials. Put them inside and their weight disappears from your body entirely. More importantly, whatever goes in stays preserved in a near-still state. Your water remains clean, your food won’t spoil halfway through a trip, and nothing gets contaminated because you packed like a fool.”

Trafalgar picked it up and turned it once in his hand. The bracelet was cool and heavier than it looked.

”How much can it hold?”

”A good amount,” Augusto said. ”Enough for one person to travel properly for quite a while. Longer if that person has discipline and does not pack half a kitchen for vanity.” His tail moved once behind him. ”The interior separation is stable too. Liquids remain contained. Herbs don’t absorb the smell of your smoked meat. The item was made for people who intend to keep going”

That was enough for Trafalgar.

”I’ll take it.”

The bracelet dissolved into light and disappeared into his inventory.

[Item Acquired: Pilgrim’s Hollow Bracelet - Epic Rank]

Type: Bracelet

Effect 1: Stores a large quantity of non-living supplies inside an inner space, removing their weight from the wearer entirely.

Effect 2: Food, water, herbs, and medicine stored inside remain preserved in a clean, near-still state, preventing spoilage and contamination.

Description: A dark silver bracelet engraved with tiny inner runes, crafted for long journeys and sealed expeditions. Its space was not made for treasure, but for endurance.

Augusto looked pleased, which for him meant only slightly more predatory than usual.

”Good. We’re off to a healthy start.”

His hand went back into the box. This time he brought out a pale compass carved from smooth bone, its blue crystal needle trembling faintly as though it disliked being still.

”The Mariner’s Bone Compass,” Augusto said. ”Epic Rank. A very fine item. One of my favorites, actually.”

He set it down with more care than before.

”It can be attuned to three destinations, landmarks, or mana signatures. Once you set them, the needle always points where it should, no matter what weather you’re suffering through or what backwater ruin you’ve decided to crawl into. Mountains, forest, coast, underground routes, it doesn’t care.”

”And the second effect?” Trafalgar asked.

Augusto leaned one elbow on the counter.

”It reacts to interference. Spatial distortion. Illusions. Corrupted mana currents. The sort of things that make a straight road become a very bad decision. It won’t solve the problem for you, but it will warn you before you commit to it like an amateur.”

Zafira glanced at the compass. ”That’s actually useful.”

Augusto gave her a wounded expression. ”Lady Zafira, I assure you, I do not make a habit of stocking useless Epic Rank items.”

’I have something similar, but the ring’s effect is on specific things, not

everything. This item would be useful for me.’ Trafalgar took the compass before Augusto could continue talking.

”I’ll take this one too.”

The compass vanished from his hand as well.

[Item Acquired: Mariner’s Bone Compass - Epic Rank]

Type: Compass

Effect 1: Can be attuned to up to three destinations, landmarks, or mana signatures, always pointing toward the selected one regardless of weather or

terrain.

Effect 2: Pulses when spatial distortion, illusion, or corrupted mana currents interfere with the natural route ahead.

Description: A pale compass carved from the bone of a sea beast, fitted with an old blue crystal needle. It does not care for roads, only for arrival.

Augusto’s ears flicked with satisfaction.

”You really did come prepared to spend money. I missed this.”

”You missed my money,” Trafalgar said.

”I missed both.”

The last item he drew from the box was a pair of dark boots lined with thin crimson stitching. They looked built for hard miles, salt air, broken paths, and the kind of ground that stopped being friendly long before the journey did. ”The Redwake Striders,” Augusto said. ”Epic Rank. Good boots and honest ones

at that.

They don’t pretend to be anything else.”

He placed them beside the empty space left by the compass.

”First effect, they give stable footing on unstable terrain. Sand, wet stone, ship decks, mud, shallow water, loose rubble. Terrain that usually makes people curse suddenly becomes manageable. Second effect, they reduce fatigue over long travel and soften the noise of your movement. Not enough to turn you into an assassin, but enough to make distance much less irritating.”

Trafalgar’s hand rested on the boots briefly.

These were exactly the kind of item he preferred.

”I’ll take them too.”

The boots dissolved into light the moment he accepted them.

[Item Acquired: Redwake Striders - Epic Rank]

Type: Boots

Effect 1: Grants stable footing on unstable terrain such as sand, wet stone, ship

decks, mud, shallow water, and loose rubble.

Effect 2: Reduces fatigue and softens movement noise during prolonged travel,

allowing the wearer to maintain speed for much longer without losing balance.

Description: A pair of dark travel boots lined with thin crimson thread and reinforced with monster hide. They were made for those who keep moving when the road stops being kind.

Augusto clasped his hands together behind the counter.

”There. Three solid Epic Rank items, no nonsense or some merchant fraud, and

every single one worth what I’m charging”

Trafalgar looked at him flatly. ”That last part is the one I trust least.”

Augusto clicked his tongue. ”You wound me.”

”How much?” Augusto’s smile widened, the sort that never brought good news to anyone

holding a purse.

”Two hundred gold per item sounds reasonable.”

Trafalgar narrowed his eyes at him.

”Reasonable for you, maybe.” He let the words hang for a breath, calm as ever.

”We’ll leave them at one hundred fifty each. It’ll help keep our relationship

healthy.”

Augusto placed a hand over his chest as if something sacred had just been

insulted.

”Healthy? Trafalgar, at that price you’re the one harming it.”

”You’ll survive.”

”I am showing you items of the best quality.”

”And I’m buying three at once.” Augusto’s ears twitched. His tail moved once behind him, slower this time. He

knew that point had weight.

Trafalgar rested one forearm on the counter and continued in the same even

tone.

”You wanted me to come by because you had useful things in stock. I came. I’m buying without wasting your time, and I’ll probably buy more before leaving. One hundred fifty each.”

Augusto stared at him for a long second, visibly suffering.

Zafira watched the exchange without interrupting, though the corner of her

mouth had already begun to lift. It was the same kind of suffering Augusto always produced when profit remained within reach but not quite at the number he truly wanted.

At last, he exhaled through his nose.

”...Fine.”

He pointed a finger at Trafalgar as though assigning blame before the crime

had even been fully committed.

”One hundred fifty each. But only because you’re buying three, and only

because I’m in a good mood.”

”You were not in a good mood.”

”I am now trying to recover one.”

Trafalgar’s expression barely changed, but there was the faintest suggestion of

amusement in it.

”So four hundred fifty in total.”

Augusto grimaced. ”Yes. Four hundred fifty. You say that number with far too

much peace for someone robbing me in broad daylight.”

Trafalgar summoned the gold without ceremony.

”If it helps, you’re still making profit.”

Augusto snatched the payment with the speed of a starving animal protecting

meat.

”It helps a little.”