The Ten-Thousand Reale Special (1)

“...yeah. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.”

I held my most recent dagger underneath the sunlight pouring in through the window. This was my thirty-eighth… thirty-nineth… somewhere in the late thirties attempt at putting together the scraps I had into one decent unit. From a distance, it looked perfectly fine. In fact, this one was my best work yet. However, like the last ten… something, the finer details eluded me. I considered my dexterity above average when it came to using my fingers. After all, I did stream video games, which required precise inputs every once in a minute. But compared to professional craftsmen, the work was shoddy at best. As usual, my hands shook at the last moment, causing the parts to be just slightly misaligned from the rest. If only this was an illusion. I can easily hide those imperfections.

Not to mention, this dagger was more special than the rest. When holding the dagger downwards, it seemed normal, provided you weren’t the one holding it. However, as soon as you pointed it upward…

Shhhkk.

The blade fell halfway into the guard, turning it more into a box cutter than a dagger. Though, the most appropriate reference would be a stage knife – the ones used as part of magic tricks or horror shows. Of course, this version lacked the internals to pop the blade up or hold it in place. It simply slid forward and back based on which way I rotated it.

Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I expected using a scrap missing its tang. Gluing the bottom half of the blade to the guard failed miserably, as evidenced by the shifting length. At least the blade doesn’t fly out when I swing. That would be a real problem.

“Didn’t you want to make something like this?” the familiar voice chuckled, pushing down on my hand.

Well, yeah. But I wanted to wait until I could make a proper dagger. Sure, after seeing that piece, I did have a slight hope that it would end up like this. Though, that just made it an absolutely worthless fighting implement. Stage knives were more like gimmicks or toys, though this version was infinitely more dangerous. While, I could try to dull the edges… Yeah, no. Definitely not ready for that.

Speaking of which, I didn’t expect to hear from you so often. It’s almost weird.

She didn’t bother responding, not that she could anyway.

Usually, I only heard her voice when I was in a mood, not quite sad or depressed, more of a mix of sympathy with a twinge of fear. But over the last few days, she had become a lot more talkative at the strangest times. Making weapons and eating sandwiches – I couldn’t see the common thread. I know it’s all in my head, but even I want to know how it works. Maybe it would… no. Another time.

After getting in a few practice thrusts, I left the hotel, heading towards my usual venue. Feeling a bit peckish, I took a bite of the sandwich I grabbed from the grocery store after breakfast. If I didn’t go that early, the rush hour bonanza would make it impossible.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like the food is amazing or anything. It’s an average mystery meat sandwich, just like the omelet. However, it's an average taste for a relatively cheap price. That’s why there’s lines of people waiting. Though, that doesn’t mean I have to like it. The line, not the sandwich.

Five days remained until I planned to escape from this city. At the moment, I only had a little under eight thousand reales. Making up the remaining two thousand was going to be close, even with the extra pay from cracking eggs. Rest my yolky fingers. Of course, if Elvira hadn’t robbed me blind for all that scrap metal, I would’ve been there already, or by the end of today.

Also, don’t think I forgot about the suit she practically forced onto me. For seventy thousand reales, no way am I leaving it behind.

“Sure she did.”

Oh, shut up, you.

And after that… I wasn’t particularly sure what to do. My end goal was to get back home to my world and Ana, but how was I going to achieve that? I could raise as much money as I wanted with this entertainment shtick, but beyond that…

My knowledge of this world was too little to see any path forward. Not to mention, I still wasn’t sure why I was sent here in the first place. For what reason did a sponsor send me here? What was my purpose? Who was I supposed to be? I might be content at the moment, but there was still something missing. Something that tied these loose strands together.

“Something you already know.”

Do I? Do I really? Why don’t you tell me?

“...”

Tell me!

“...” the familiar voice went silent no matter how much I asked, whether out of anger or desperation. I knew she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. After all, if she did, I would be admitting it to myself. That I already knew the answer I tried to look away from.

…well, it’s not like I need to now anyway. I have plenty of time. Another year won’t hurt, I rationalized, like always. My audience is already here.

Around the little divot where I normally performed, a crowd of people hung around, waiting for me to make my appearance. I saw some old faces and some new ones too. As for the guards… yep, there were four of them again. They were all people I had played with as well, so I should be more or less fine. That didn’t mean I was going to let my guard down. My assailants had gotten rather crafty with their magic, opting for more complex and precise small spells. Not that they can touch my illusion anyway.

As I finished the last bite of my sandwich, I did a quick runthrough of the acts and some special ones, just in case. Everything was in order.

Okay, let’s do this.

The stre$m has st&rted.