The Achievement Junkie - 635 New Weaponsmith?

“You two know how to make weapons, right?”

“Yeah, but what’s that to you?” Argyle teased his son-in-law.

Jack shrugged, mentioning, “Well, I recently opened my old tomb and recovered countless items and treasures, including some weapon schematics…” Pausing to somewhat sober up the two men from interest, Jack slyly smiled. “I wanted to upgrade Ryn’s weapons and make my own, so–”

“If Golden Haven were still here, we’d make whatever you wished!” shouted Kaldor, proudly pounding his fist against his chest.

Nodding, Argyle sighed, “Yeah… Kaldor’s got me beat this time.”

“Then Golden Haven had the best weaponsmiths?” asked Jack.

Kaldor wagged his finger and replied, “We had the best weaponsmith contracts. We partnered with weaponsmiths and paid top dollar for their services. Rather than incorporate better than average weaponsmiths into our fold, like some people here, we frequently worked had in hand with the best smiths in Kartonia!”

“Then… they’re still around and able to help?”

“Even better! Some are already here!”

“Seriously?! Why haven’t I heard of this?” Jack questioned loudly, making sure the nearby Vixus could hear him as well.

But Kaldor threw his arm around Jack’s shoulders and answered, “Because you’re off playing god! Visit the boarding district and ask for Gasnon.”

“You convinced Gasnon?!” Argyle laughed in surprise. “How’d you swing that?”

“Because we offered guaranteed work, pay, and the greatest protection!” Kaldor stated with a thumbs up.

“Then don’t mind my leave…”

As Jack stood up and said his goodbyes to the room, Zariff shouted, “Come on, brat! Live a little!”

“I am. I need to finish business so me and your daughter can live a little…” Jack chuckled, making the drunk furious while the rest of the room enjoyed the laugh.

Zariff wanted to punch Jack square in the face but a hand reached out to pull Zariff to his seat. Ryn then sighed in satisfaction and waved goodbye to Jack. With Zariff sitting beside him, Ryn shouted, “Why waste breath on him? Enjoy yourself like there’s no tomorrow! Our victory across Kartonia is inevitable, so just let loose!”

The room lifted mugs for a cheer and took another swig. At the same time, Ryn sighed and whispered for only Zariff to hear, “Don’t worry. Jack told me about your curse. Alongside Jack, I promise that you’ll be fine from now on. Our victory is inevitable, right?”

“Right… then I’ll try my best!” Zariff replied, chugging his mug and preparing for a long night of drinking.

Jack entered the area and found the boarding office. There, Jack found some handling paperwork behind the reception desk.

“Excuse me, I need to find someone.”

“Name… Oh, Guild Master?!” The young man was in awe to find Jack at his desk, of all people. “What can I do for you, Guild Master, sir?”

“Where will I find Gasnon?”

“Oh! He’s in the upper lots! Number 23!”

“Thank you…”

As Jack turned and left with a friendly wave, the young man committed that short exchange to his memory. Never would he have imagined having met the most popular man in Trodar thanks to his new, lowly job as an overnight receptionist. It was a story for his family to remember.

Completely forgetting the young man’s face, Jack hurried through the narrow paths of the boarding district. Without a need for wagons, vehicles, or anything large, the streets were more like glorified sidewalks that followed a grid system to maximize housing space. This made it easy for Jack to find the upper lots at the northernmost end of the boarding district.

When Jack found himself among homes with their own small courtyards and gates, he started searching for the property numbers.

“21… 22… 23!”

Spotting his destination, Jack neared the gate and cordially used the gate knocker to announce his presence. But when no one came to greet him, Jack scoffed. Jack gripped the metal ring of the gate knocker and pounded it into the hallow, concaved back of the gate knocker, letting all neighboring lots hear him.

“ENOUGH!” an old voice hollered. “Come in! I ain’t got time to waste!”

Letting go of the gate knocker, Jack promptly hopped over the locked gate and entered the open courtyard. The front door was unlocked so Jack let himself in without another word.

“What is it you want?!” That voice was now louder as an aging man hobbled through the hallway.

“Sorry to interrupt you…” Jack sighed.

“You’d better be?! I’m busy! Now, what do you need so badly?!” spat the elderly man.

Jack blinked, examining the man’s bald spot and poorly crafted glasses, along with his thick and tattered leather apron. “Kaldor told me–”

“That pestro!” barked the old man. “You can’t trust children anymore!”

“I’m Jack, the Guild Master here.”

“WHAT?!” In the blink of an eye, the old man dropped to one knee and bowed. “Guild Master Jack… Please excuse my choice of words.”

“You’re fine. Kaldor sent me to learn about weaponsmithing.”

“Then you’ve come to the right place! That brat failed to learn a thing, but I’m sure you’ll be a master given your experience!” the old man laughed and flexed one bicep while placing his other hand over it. “The name’s Gasnon, the man unlucky enough to call that brat Kaldor his son. If you want to learn about weapons, I’m your man!”

“So that’s where he gets it from…” Jack mumbled and chuckled. “Can you show me your workshop? There are plenty of questions I have for you.”