I Stopped Simping and the Heroines Lost Their Minds

Friday afternoon.

As soon as the final academy bell rang, Arthur skipped dinner entirely. He caught the first magi-bus out of the campus and headed straight for the city’s commercial district.

He had 14,500 credits burning a hole in his scroll.

A blunt wooden training bow wasn’t going to do shit inside an ancient Elven labyrinth. If he ran into a real trap or a high-tier monster, he needed gear that could actually kill.

He navigated the crowded, cobblestone streets of the crafting sector until he found the glowing neon sign he was looking for.

The Iron Anvil.

Arthur pushed the heavy iron doors open. A blast of sweltering, dry heat instantly hit him in the face.

The shop was deafening. Toward the back, near the roaring furnaces, several stocky, heavily bearded dwarves were hammering away at glowing slabs of steel. Sparks flew through the air with every deafening crack of their hammers.

Arthur walked up to the front wooden counter and tapped his knuckles against the scarred wood.

”I need to place an order,” Arthur called out over the noise.

A grumpy dwarf with a soot-stained beard didn’t even look up from the sword he was sharpening on a whetstone.

”We’re busy, human,” the dwarf grunted aggressively. ”Buy what’s on the rack or get the hell out.”

Before Arthur could tell the dwarf to screw himself, a sweet, cheerful voice cut through the ringing steel.

”Now, now, Brokk. Is that any way to treat a paying customer?”

Arthur turned his head toward the sound.

Stepping out from a side office was a female dwarf.

She wasn’t some gruff, bearded stereotype. She was a quintessential shortstack. Barely four and a half feet tall, but packed with an absurd amount of thick, heavy curves. She had wild, fiery red hair tied in a messy braid that fell over her shoulder.

She was wearing a thick leather blacksmith’s apron, but it did absolutely nothing to hide her body.

Her boobs were massive, pushing aggressively against the tight white linen of her undershirt. Her waist was narrow, flaring out instantly into incredibly wide hips and thick, powerful thighs.

She walked up to the counter and leaned over it, giving Arthur a bright, welcoming smile. Her heavy boobs pressed completely flat against the wood.

”Welcome to the Iron Anvil, handsome,” she chirped, wiping soot off her cheek with a rag. ”Don’t mind my husband. He’s always a grump when he’s working on a tight deadline.”

Husband, huh? Arthur thought, his eyes dropping blatantly to her massive, resting cleavage. Even better.

He didn’t try to hide his stare. He took a solid two seconds to appreciate her massive assets before meeting her bright green eyes.

The dwarf woman didn’t blush or cover up. She just smirked, leaning a fraction of an inch further over the counter. She clearly knew exactly what she was working with.

”So,” she continued, her sweet voice dropping just a little. ”What would you like? Buying weapons off the rack, or are you looking to make a custom order?”

Arthur tapped his chin against the wooden counter, acting like he was thinking it over. In reality, he was just calculating how much utility he could squeeze out of his remaining credits.

”Custom orders take time,” Arthur said, keeping his tone steady. ”And I don’t have time. I need to leave for a hunt tonight. Off the racks, please.”

Brunhilda arched a red eyebrow. She wiped a smudge of soot from her cheek with the back of her hand.

”Tonight? Impatient, aren’t we?” she laughed, a bright, cheerful sound that cut through the ringing of the forge. ”Alright then. What’s your fighting style? You don’t look like a vanguard. Looking for a big hunk of steel to hide behind?”

”Ranged,” Arthur corrected. ”I need a full set of light armor. Leather or chainmail, high mobility. A solid longbow. At least three dozen arrows—blunt, broadhead, and armor-piercing. And two high-quality steel daggers for close encounters.”

Brunhilda let out a low, appreciative whistle.

”Ambitious. A solo archer heading out into the dark. Follow me, let’s see what we have.”

She lifted the hinged counter and walked past him toward the back showroom.

Arthur followed her into a cooler, quiet room lined with weapon racks and armor dummies. It was a gold mine of lethality. He kept a respectful distance, though it was hard not to notice her build. Her thick leather apron was tied tightly around a narrow waist, which flared out instantly into incredibly wide, heavy hips. She was built like a brick house, full of cheerful, fiery energy.

Brunhilda walked straight to the premium bows. ”You want quality? Look at this.”

She pulled down a gorgeous bow made of a deep black, glossy material.

”Chitin Longbow. Made from the exoskeletons of Cave Crawlers,” she explained, holding it up proudly. ”Incredibly lightweight, absurdly flexible. It’ll put an arrow through a metal shield at a hundred yards.”

Arthur stepped close. He ran a finger over the smooth, black material.

[Item: Cave Crawler Chitin Longbow (High-Tier)]

Price: 50,000 Credits.

Arthur internally choked.

Fifty thousand? He didn’t even have enough money to look at the damn thing.

He offered a strained smile. ”Gorgeous craftsmanship. But a bit rich for my current blood. Show me something in my weight class.”

Brunhilda chuckled, placing the bow back on the rack. ”Pity. Well, let’s look at the standard ashwood. Reliable, won’t break the bank, and gets the job done.”

By the time they reached the armor section, Arthur was having a massive economic reality check.

Rule number two of transmigration: You are never, ever as rich as you think you are. The power curve of items is logarithmic, and the prices are astronomical.

He had to settle for standard, practical mid-range gear. No fancy monster parts. Just solid, well-made smithing.

He walked up to the counter ten minutes later, his face pale as he looked at the final bill.

[Item: Hardened Boar-Hide Leather Armor (Mid-Tier)]

[Item: Reinforced Ashwood Longbow (Mid-Tier)]

[Item: High-Carbon Steel Daggers x 2 (Mid-Tier)]

[Item: Assorted Arrow Bundle x 48 (Standard)]

[Total Price: 13,000 Credits]

Arthur felt a physical pain in his soul. He had just spent ninety percent of his fortune in ten minutes.

Ding.[Balance Updated: 1,500 Credits]

He was poor again. Back to scraping by on bus fare and cheap cafeteria food.

Brunhilda swiped his scroll to process the payment. She stacked his new, lethal toys on the counter, noticing his crestfallen expression.

”Don’t look so grim, hunter,” Brunhilda smiled, crossing her thick arms under her massive chest. Her tone was friendly and encouraging. ”Good gear is an investment. It’s the difference between coming back with loot, or coming back in a body bag.”

Arthur packed the daggers into his belt and slung the heavy quiver over his shoulder. He had to admit, the boar-hide leather armor felt incredibly sturdy and didn’t restrict his movement at all.

”I’ll be coming back with loot,” Arthur said confidently, meeting her green eyes. ”If I survive and bring back some high-quality monster materials, think we can negotiate a better rate next time?”

Brunhilda laughed. It was a hearty, genuine sound. She clearly liked a customer with some backbone.

”Bring me something my husband can actually forge with, and I’ll give you a fair market price,” Brunhilda replied smoothly, tapping the wooden counter. ”Just focus on surviving first, handsome.”

”Fair enough. See you around, Brunhilda.”

Arthur turned and left The Iron Anvil.

He stepped out into the cool evening air of the commercial district. The gear was heavy, but it felt right. He was no longer walking into the woods blind and defenseless.

He checked the time on his pocket watch. It was time to catch the bus out of the city.