The two handymen… handyorc and handyhob… promised Prof, the wagon would be ready in three days and didn''t even charge anything extra for the out-of-turn job. Not, that there were other wagons sitting in the lot.


    Prof and a party had at least a time frame for their departure.


    The news, that something was up in the capital spread by the next day, with different groups of locals openly discussing the situation. Prof just hoped, that organizing the next spontaneous riot would take time, and they would be happily away by the time voluntarily provided furniture was set afire in the streets.


    There was a difference to Saugarten, though. There, Mythrill came out of nothing, but in Sumpfigerort the folks had some time to get to know the new kind of music. Most, who participated in the slime subjugation, had exposure and could appreciate the excellence. Also, Mythrillhead was playing in bars and even secured a gig to provide background music for some kind of farm work. Prof still had only a nebulous idea, of what agricultural entrepreneurs exactly did to their field and the plants and why.


    He still wasn''t overly interested in the issue, as an honest adventurer, he had more heroic things to do. He wisely read the mission descriptions since the tavern debacle and rejected all, that asked for help at farms. The one time, they visited Wolfgang at the farm, he was reinforced in his decision – there were a few adventurers in full adventurer gear digging in the fields. Those poor sods probably failed to read the fine print. Miniskirts and leather straps didn''t look like they were made for field work – especially, if said field work was working the fields.


    The other difference between the capital and the allegedly picturesque swampy city was the absence of the not-Guildmaster. Well, Sumpfigerort had a not-Guildmaster, but she wasn''t so heavy-handed as their nemesis. That was until the villain on duty fled to Sumpfigerort and asserted his dominance.


    Either the locals were too accustomed to Mythrill, or they were more tolerant or laid-back, but the not-Guildmaster''s campaign to discredit or ban the new music didn''t seem to get traction. Maybe he should have invested in Dire Fullteeth too – even if they couldn''t pull his campaign, they could have carried his arguments. In the worst-case scenario, they would make excellent getaway vehicles.


    As they walked back to the Adventurers'' Guild to finally sell their loot from the last dungeon, they saw a few instances of contra-Mythrill agitation. For example, a group of obviously paid demonstrators were harassing a band, providing walking music. It was actually easy to realize, that they were paid – in Greenskin society, it was considered as non-excellent to keep financial backers a secret, so the demonstrators actually sported a banner, informing everyone, that the demonstration was ordered and financed by the current head of the local Musicians'' not-Guild.


    “That is actually an interesting concept," Prof told his party members.


    “What, sending paid bandits to make some poor musician''s job even harder? He is actually quite good!" Mini was ready to defend the performance of her newest favorite music.


    “Not that. That is done everywhere. I meant, telling everyone openly, who you are working for.”


    “But if you already pay for thugs, why not pay for a proper mercenary band?” Bianca looked confused. In medieval times, demonstrations probably devolved into riots and looting anyway, so having proper mercenaries doing the demonstration in the first place was the better choice.


    “Excuse me, miss. We aren''t common thugs!" one of the demonstrators, an angry-looking Hob, turned to the party "Demonstrating is honest and excellent work!"


    “Well, it isn''t paying all that well, but as a side job, it''s good" A Goblin added, waving a stick around.


    “Yeah, all you have to do is register at the Demonstrator’s not-Guild, and if there’s something, they send a runner.” Another Goblin elaborated, stopping his shouting for a short time.


    “I actually happen to like this new music.” the first Hob said “One of my cousins is a musician, and she was playing at the Slime Campaign.”


    “That is excellent! See the singer? He’s my cousin! I’m so proud!” an Orc, holding the banner pointed at the harassed band’s singer. “As soon as we are done here, I will take him to a bar, where Mythrillhead is playing.”


    “Folks! We are on a clock here! Demonstrate harder!" the head demonstrator admonished his fellow workers. Well, if you take a job, you should take it seriously, and not chat with random pedestrians and tourists instead of working hard. Of course, if your job is to chat with unfamiliar folks, you should do just that, but not as a means to avoid working. But, if you chat to avoid chatting, wouldn''t you actually do your work?


    Anyways.


    The whole party was looking at the demonstrators with bewilderment. The Greenskins pulled something completely unfamiliar, incomprehensible, inexplicable, and alien out of their bags every other day.


    “I still think, hiring a proper mercenary band is the better choice.”


    “Club them in the head, and sell them to a necromancer. There is always a need for skeletons and body parts.”


    “Sssstab in kidneyssss.”


    “What are you talking about?” Prof asked. His party mostly wasn’t this bloodthirsty. Not counting Mini. And Sharpclaw. Maybe Bianca.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    “Doing a proper demonstration?”


    “Getting rid of the guy, who harasses poor Mythrill-players?”


    “Sssstabing alwayssss workssss.”


    “No, not always. If you want to stab undead, you will have to do Critical Hits. Also, a magical weapon is good to have.” Mini corrected


    “Smashing, crushing, beheading, burning, and mounting their head on pikes also works.”


    “Thank you, Bianca. That was informative."


    Prof had to concede, joining the Adventurer''s Guild was actually a good idea. Selling their loot through the Guild was much easier, with a lot less usage of [Commerce] and [Haggling] and less legwork to find a buyer – although the prices were a little bit lower. Depending on how good his relevant Skills were in comparison to the merchant or crafter, he could have probably got five to ten percent more money. Or the same less. Either way, he would have to pay taxes, which were waived for Adventurers.


    Most of their income from the dungeon went right into a collection of potions. Actually, their service pay from the de-sliming went into those too. And some other funds too. In the end, Prof chose to pay with a smaller gem instead of coins. Everyone got three complete load-outs of Health, Resistance, and Enhancing Potions. Included in the purchase were some raw materials, a rudimentary alchemy kit, a few dozen empty earthenware vials, and a booklet for basic potions. And a few boxes of first aid stuff.


    Prof wanted to pick up [Alchemy] again, and while he wasn’t exactly good, he could still manage to brew some last-resort potions. Just to be sure, he bought four empty waterskins too.


    From the tailor''s shop, they ordered some winter clothes – and had to pay for them, even if they owned part of the shop. It was still cheaper than ordering from another one, but it still stung. Why own a shop, if you have to pay for the services? Wasn''t the stuff free for the owner? All that was needed was some creative account management, and everything was fine! Prof was almost sure, the was some kind of Skill for that too. Probably [Fraud] or something, potentially hidden behind some inconspicuous name. And most likely every local knew which Skill it was.


    As for winter clothes, Prof bought only a pair of thick trousers and something, that almost looked like a sweatshirt – he still had his Lumberjack Shirt and his Dire Bear suba. Both have inbuilt air-conditioning.


    Mini, on the other hand, invested in something with a lot less fabric. Why she even bought new clothes, Prof wasn''t exactly sure. After all, she already had a few Saddlebags of Holding, full of fineries!


    “They are winter clothes!” Mini was adamant


    “First, winter clothes are thick, are padded, and have a lot of fabric. These have none of that. I can actually see through parts of it! Secondly, you came from the far North, don’t you already have winter clothes?!”


    “Of course, I have a lot of outfits for the winter! But those are Forestean fashion, these are Greenskinian! Don''t you want me to look presentable in foreign lands?!"


    “Ehm, Miss Minerva, we are about to leave Ostwaldland. If you want to look like a local, you would need to buy a new set in the South!”


    “Exactly! I see, you understand! This is the best part!”


    Prof refrained from further comments or questions. Like, why buy what amounted to summer dresses for the winter? Or why buy order local clothes, that looked markedly un-local? Anyway, Prof''s skill in female fashion wasn''t well-developed, and he was content that way. He just hoped, there wasn''t a Skill for it. He calculated even odds for that being the case.


    On the other hand, the winters in the South were probably like summers in the North for Mini. And she was always at room temperature, most likely it didn''t matter if the room was thirty or minus fifty degrees. Did undead freeze solid in cold, or were they immune to such? Asking her about her freezing modes probably wasn''t very gentlemanly.


    But would be answered nonetheless in a certain, copyrighted Minerva Pannonnii-way.


    At the warehouse, Prof found a crate of that strange paprika spirit and some other hard liqueurs to fuel his addiction. For sustenance, they set aside about a month''s worth of dried, semi-dried, and almost-fresh foodstuff – again, they would be living on beans, peas, lentils, tubers, and other local versions of those. At least, this time they were able to get some cured meat, spices (among others hot paprika), and salt too.


    Prof planned to buy a few sacks of curing salt too, letting the hides of random monsters rot till they found a buyer was gross negligence and waste.


    Unfortunately, the warehouse didn''t contain any camping gear. Prof was loath to spend any money on it – again – while they still had a basically unused set a city away. In the end, he had to fork out the funds. It was getting cold, even during the day, and the nights were almost chilly. Even if they bought a mattress for the wagon, they didn''t have sheets, and there was room for only two – at best. While Mini didn''t have any problems with sleeping on each other or cuddling up in a heap, Bianca most definitely had. Prof also wasn''t exactly convinced by the idea.


    Maybe if he truly was twenty-two, like his Character Parchment said, and not thirty-five, he may have thought, cuddling up with three females of different species would be awesome.


    In the end, they bought four small tents, bedrolls, sheets a selection of pillows, a couple of collapsible chairs, and a collapsible table. Not counting a cauldron, pans, spits, and a diverse selection of cooking utensils. Everyone still had [Cooking] at around or below 60%, Bianca being the best at 63%, but Prof was told, a good cooking set made using the Skill easier.


    Who would have thought, it was easier to cook, if someone had more, than an open firepit?


    Prof had conceded, that the new camping gear was much better than the previous one. It had more pieces and was of higher quality. Of course, without their new wagon, it would be cumbersome to transport, but currently, it looked like cozy travel. Maybe they could get a fridge too, and the RV would be complete!


    With most of the shopping done, all they had to do was wait for the repairs to be completed, and they would be on their way to sandy beaches, palm trees, beach bars, and cocktails! Probably also picturesque ancient ruins, every tourist on Earth would get wet panties from. After all, Arkadian civilizations were around much longer than Earth Humans, and civilizations were very good at making scenic ruins out of charming structures.


    Prof already knew, there were archaeologists on Arkadia, so it was probable, they did some excavation before plundering. Most likely, they didn’t care to bury the ruins again, so nobody was standing in Prof’s way to visit the detritus of hundreds of thousand years of sapient inhabitation.


    Well, if there were ruins and tourists, even the dumbest mayor would get the idea to put up a ticket booth for extra income.


    Or open a museum with freshly forged ancient treasures.