"Fudge."
Seven sat on his bed as he stared at the pile of things he brought back from the village. His coin pouch was empty. Completely.
He used up all the Zevi, the only currency in this world, he had on that small worn, leather pouch.
No one in their right mind would buy a lot of useless things: a worn-out desk and two chairs, a battered cabinet, and a bed futon that, at least, looked somewhat new.
He laughed at himself.
After all, he traded that futon for a little bit of information:
'Eden will lose the next match. Don't bet on her.'
A competition.
It happens annually during the last month of the year, in which hundreds of alumni and alumnus who graduated from the Academy would participate in a competition.
The merchant was skeptical at first, of course. But once Seven discreetly flashed the crest of the Hart, the man's doubts melted away.
Those crests were not just symbols. They were proof of lineage, only given to direct descendants. A Hart could wear theirs however they wanted.
Be it a pendant, ring, bracelet, even engraved into their sword.
It seemed that the original Seven Hart was not able to decide where he would put the crest at.
In the end, not only did the merchant believe him, but he also let them borrow a cart and a horse to haul Seven's things back to the mansion.
But that would mean now knew what the seventh child of the Harts looked like.
Dangerous.
But manageable.
Especially since he had already recognized the merchant's origins.
House Ael.
Green eyes.
A merchant family doomed to bankruptcy as something mentioned in the novel.
"This should teach them a lesson."
He murmured to himself.
He knew that, despite the information he gave, House Ael would still bet on Eden. She was the strongest of her generation, after all.
But at least now, knowing what he told them, they would not go all in.
Sixty percent on Eden, and forty percent on her opponent.
That would be the most ideal move for the House Ael.
Because in the end, money was money.
Shaking his head, Seven turned back to the pile of other goods he had brought back
⊣⊳ One jar of assorted pills from that old woman.
⊣⊳ A stainless bowl.
⊣⊳ Ten pieces of bread that somehow looked stale.
⊣⊳ Five large candles.
⊣⊳ A gallon of drinking water roughly about 10 liters.
Hff…
He took a deep breath as if making a decision.
'Narrative points.'
The thought alone triggered a system interface.
|| Total Narrative Points: 7,777 NP ||
He smiled.
These, again, was what he received as a reward for obtaining the Præscientiaartifact.
And more importantly, he had found its use recently, though he did not have time to test it as he needed to go and meet Eden that time.
'Narrative Shop.'
The moment the thought crossed his mind, another translucent panel materialized before him.
|| Narrative Shop ||
|| Item: Subspace ||
|| A dimensional storage that exists outside of reality. Can only store things personally purchased by the user ||
|| Cost: 5000 NP ||
There were other more items, roughly around six more, but the prices were so inflated that it cost more than his current NP amount.
This was the only one he could afford.
'Purchase.'
He thought.
|| Purchase Confirmation: [Yes] / [Cancel] ||
'Yes.'
|| Processing… ||
|| Purchase Complete ||
|| You have obtained: [Subspace] ||
"Fudge…"
Seven cursed under his breath as he stared at the new number blinking at the top corner of the interface given that his remaining Narrative Points had dropped drastically.
Also, he still had no idea how to earn more.
Even if he were to collect the remaining six artifacts scattered within the six other continents, the total points would be just enough to buy one more skill.
"This better be worth the—"
He clutched his left eye.
It was hurting as hell, given that passively seeing one second into the future among the crowds would be like seeing hundreds of movements at once.
He tried his best to ignore and suppress it until now, but it seemed to have backfired as pain shot all at once.
But like always, the pain faded after a few minutes.
Hah…
He exhaled through his nose and dropped his hand from his face.
Turning back to the supplies laid across his room, he frowned.
"…How do I even use this?"
He paused.
After a few seconds, he reached out and touched the bundled candles.
"Store."
"..."
Nothing happened.
'Store.'
He repeated the word, but nothing still happened.
But he smiled.
He did not know if it was basic knowledge or because he had read enough novels with systems, and so he looked at the candle but did not touched it.
Instead, he imagined the candle disappearing and visualized it being pulled away into a separate space.
Fwip.
The candles vanished.
His eyes widened slightly, but he was not entirely surprised as he expected it to happen.
"Okay…"
He whispered.
He looked at the other supplies: gallon of water, bowl, jars of pills, bread, desk, futon, and the two chairs.
Focusing on the image of them no longer being in the room, he repeated to imagine the scene in which all of the items he looked at will be sent inside the subspace.
Fwip. Fwip. Fwip.
One by one, the items vanished.
Hah…
He let out a slow breath.
Everything had transferred. Even the furniture, which he had half expected to break the feature entirely.
Then a new system interface appeared.
|| Subspace currently has no weight limit; however, its volume may be restricted based on the total number of acquired Narrative Points. Additionally, items not purchased directly by the user may be rejected. ||
'Not purchased…'
He doubted it at first, and was unsure if it would really store the items he did not buy.
'What an inconvenient feature…'
He thought.
Right after, he imagined taking the jar of pills out of the subspace.
'Retrieve: Pills'
With a faint shimmer, the same jar of pills appeared in his hand.
He stared at it.
"...Maybe this is actually handy."
He grinned.
But not even a second in, he frowned.
Staring once more at the jar of pills he held, he gulped down as he thought of taking one of the red chalky pills.
Just as the old woman said, it helped wash away toxins from one's body. He was familiar with it.
After all, every major and minor character in the novel had taken this pill at least once. The protagonist. The villains. The side characters. Even background fodder.
And they all shared one thing in common.
Pain.
Hff…
He exhaled slowly through his nose.
His heart thudded once behind his ribs, but this was not something he could avoid as he needed this to improve his complexion.
Thus sooner or later, he would have to go through it.
'Might as well be now.'
Slowly, he twisted the lid off the jar and reached in through the pills until he found the red one with a powdery texture that clung to his fingertips.
He closed his eyes.
He brought it to his lips.
"Urgkh–khh…"
But not even a full second after the pill slid down his throat, blood spilled from every corner of his body.