Chapter 3: Chapter 2 – The Rotten Yam. Cursed Tome.

While Jacque was preoccupied with his food and thoughts, a feline guest sat across from him.

"Handsome, what are you thinking about?" - Virna asked playfully.

Jacque snapped out of his contemplation and smiled, "Oh, nothing. Just thinking about magic stuff."

"But is it okay for you to sit with me? Don't you have customers?" - he pointed out.

"Oh, no worries. I let Namorre take over for me." - Virna pointed at a 5'5 ft tall and voluptuous 18-year-old catkin girl at the counter.

Namorre was Virna's second sister from a different father, and unlike Virna's halfling heritage, Namorre was a full-blooded catkin, possessing more cat-like features such as soft black fur on her hands and feet, sharp feline teeth, and a feline nose. Despite those features, Namorre was considered a local beauty with many Human suiters.

"I see." - Jacque said and continued eating.

"Hey, hey, so tell me something juicy. How is your relationship with Qiola? Is it going well?" - Virna leaned closer and asked with a smile.

Jacque paused his eating for a moment as if electrified.

After a few seconds, he resumed eating, albeit more slowly, and said, "We broke up."

"Really?!" - Virna's eyes shone and almost leaped to her feet in delight, but then realized that she was acting inappropriately, so she sat back down.

"Eh, I mean. Really?" - She fixed her tone while sounding more concerned about Jacque.

"Yes. Really." - Jacque said blandly, not missing Virna's odd behavior.

"Fuck my handsome face and money. If I had normal-sized genitals, it would have been a blessing, but now it is but a vicious and horrible curse!" - Jacque cried in his mind.

Jacque was a drop-dead-handsome man, possessing looks that were considered so enchanting that they surpassed that of the average handsome elf. He possessed a mixture of masculine and feminine beauty, having silk-like curly shoulder-length brown hair, a perfectly sculptured and symmetrical face, warm hazel eyes that can draw most people in, a body that was not too wide or lean, with evenly distributed fat across his fit body and no visible abnormality. If he claimed that he was the second most handsome man in a large city of over 25,000 people, even the most shameless of people would hesitate to say they were first. Hence, he was nicknamed "Handsome Jacque."

That, coupled with his status as a wealthy merchant's only son, his status as a talented apprentice wizard, his reserved mannerism, and his warm and approachable disposition made him the target of affection of many women, sometimes getting hit-on on the streets! It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that even without his father's wealth, he could live off of wealthy women just by the virtue of his looks.

If it was anyone else, they would be delighted, even thrilled to be in his shoes, so much as willing to kill for it! However, to Jacque, a straight man with tiny genitals, not only was it not a blessing, it was the most vicious and vile curse of all, as every time he was hit on, he felt like someone was gouging his stomach out.

"Erm... I see..." - Virna didn't notice Jacque's well-hidden suffering as she twirled her black bob-cut hair with her finger and her tail swished from side to side.

After a minute of Jacque silently eating his meal, Virna gathered her courage and asked, "Jacque, I-I happen to be free tomorrow afternoon, W-Would you like to go and hang out with me..."

"Thank you for your kind intentions, but I am busy tomorrow." - Jacque cut her as he wiped his mouth with his napkin, having finished his meal.

Virna was disappointed but still didn't give up.

"O-Oh, I see. So, erm, how about the day after to-"

Clatter* Shove*

Jacque placed 2 silver coins on the table and stood up.

"Sorry, Virna. I have urgent business to attend to. Have a good day." - Jacque said with a fake smile and stood up.

"I-I see..." - Virna said in disappointment, her ears and tail flopping down as she stared at Jacque exiting the shop.

"Am I that unattractive?" - She couldn't help but question her feminine charm.

In all honesty, it wasn't her fault, as most men her age would have accepted her advances in a heartbeat. Jacque too would have considered her advances if it wasn't for his "impotent problem."

"Sigh*"

After exiting the shop, Jacque felt a mixture of relief and emptiness. A feeling he was very familiar with.

"I must get those documents!" - Jacque thought as he paced to the meeting area.

As he walked, he subconsciously rubbed the silver-colored ring on his left index finger, his only assurance.

After walking for several minutes, Jacque left the well-off area of the city and reached the slum area, the dirty and unmaintained place where only the wretched with downtrodden luck and the unlawful live inside.

Although there were two armed guards stationed at the entrance to the district, no guards patrolled the slums, and murder was commonplace, with the only public workers working there being the corpse collectors.

Before entering, Jacque entered a secluded alley and took out a scented cloth to cover his nose and mouth, and covered his head with the hood of his apprentice robe. This was both to hide his identity and good looks, as well as keep the god-awful smell of shit and vomit away from his nose.

Also, to avoid the would-be thieves from making easy money off of him, he took off his coin purse and tucked it inside his robe in a special pocket he had commissioned to be sewn, an old merchant trick his father taught him for traveling inside dangerous and unlawful areas, such as the slums. He also kept a few magic ingredients for emergency spellcasting this way.

And finally, he put on a pair of unassuming leather gloves, to hide his fair and unblemished hands, as well as the expensive ring on his hand. This was to avoid people realizing his identity as someone wealthy and also to reduce the risk of someone recognizing and coveting his ring.

After he finished his preparation, Jacque didn't dillydally as he passed through the two guards stationed at the entrance and walked into the much darker and narrow slums, where even the sunlight barely shone due to how tightly clustered the communal houses and flophouses were.

Clack* Clack* Splash* Clack*

Jacque's quality leather boot's heels clicked on the cracked and dirty pavement and occasionally stepped into a puddle of murky and undiscernible fluid that was likely not water. At the very least, he tried to avoid any obvious and smelly piles of shit or literal flying shit from the defecation holes in the apartments above.Yeah, medieval period. People shit unto the streets.

Along the way, he met some of the denizens of the slums. A lively and pleasant sort.

"Please, spare me some change, kind sir..." - An old man missing a leg showed a cup with but 1 copper coin.

"Rat skewers! Get your rat skewers here!" - A man waved a skewer with cooked rats on it.

"Two copper pieces for an hour! I do every kind of play! Please. My children are starving..." - A malnourished and badly kempt woman desperately searched for customers. From her yellowish and dry complexion, Jacque concluded that she was also sick and won't live for long without a proper treatment that she clearly couldn't afford.

"Hehehe! Catch me if you can!" "Wait for me!" - Two dirty and young children ran on the streets unattended, passing by Jacque. Their parents were likely laborers or they were orphaned. Smugglers of children will love this location.

"Brr... Cold..." - A few women stood near a well half-naked with their breasts exposed to the air, and took a bath right in the open while chatting with each other.

Bam* Bam* Bam* "Open up, Vedram! You owe us a dozen gold pieces!" - Two large and intimidating loan sharks pounded on a ramshackle door, demanding an amount over ten times greater than the initial loan.

"Ahhh! Thud*" - A man was sent flying from a cheap building, landing right in front of Jacque. The man clutched his stomach, crumpled like a fried shrimp.

"And don't come back unless you have more money! Ptui*" - The man who likely kicked him out spat at the man before slamming the door shut.

"Either a gambling den, an inn, or a cheap whorehouse. Or a combination of the three." - Jacque figured as he took a big stride over the crumpled man.

"Corpse collector! Come bring the corpses!"

Less than 10 seconds later, he saw a creepy bald man with a cart filled with four fresh and rotting corpses, a corpse collector. The man didn't act professionally, as he shouted like a bazaar merchant, rather than a solemn corpse collector. Not that anyone cared, as people get murdered or die regularly in this unlawful place.

As for what happened to the corpses later? They would get dumped in an unmarked mass grave, possibly receiving a few small blessings from a kind enough priest with too much time on his hands, perhaps some of the corpses in good condition being sold to a necromancer or a physician for dirt cheap.

Passing by the corpse collector, Jacque tried to not retch at the rotting stench of festering human guts that seemed to pierce through his perfumed mouthpiece.

Of course, there were also other attractions in the slums, such as the cheap inns and taverns, warehouses, butcher shops that sell questionable meat, soup kitchens, small chapels, cloth dyers, and pawnshops, questionable antique shops, quack doctors, laundry houses, and more. However, they were all run down and in disrepair, many having cracks and leaking water, and some even outright abandoned. A reminder of a few decades or even centuries ago, when the district was new and likely much more flourishing.

After Jacque traveled for a few minutes, he finally arrived at a certain tavern, with a tilted, rotting wooden sign with words engraved on it:

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The Rotten Yam

 

"A fitting name." - Jacque thought mockingly as he entered through the dilapidated two-sided door of the tavern.

Unsurprisingly, this tavern that catered at night was rather empty at the moment, only a bunch of worn-down wooden tables and chairs, leftover playing sets of cards and dice, as well as used mugs that were not cleaned yet were left on the tables. There was also a bar with cheap booze and ale behind the counter, a sturdy door next to the counter, and a staircase leading upstairs.

The only people present were an old, bald, and buffy man with nasty scars over his nose and scraggly bearded cheeks cleaning mugs over the counter of the bar, as well as an old crone who did a poor job at cleaning the floor with a rather dirty mop.

Although around 10% of the people know how to use [clean], people in the slums seldom know simple magic, and it was rare to find one in a few hundred people. If they knew that spell, the slums wouldn't be as dirty as it is now.

Jacque strode to the counter and sat down on one of the dirty stools, right in front of the old man.

"I'm looking for Rethoc." - Jacque said and took out a silver coin from his robe, and placed it on the counter with a clack, sliding it towards the old man.

The old man stopped cleaning the mug, took a side glance at Jacque, then at the coin, pocketed it, and then continued his cleaning and asked, "When do the rats come out of hiding?"

"When they smell rotting corpses." - Jacque answered.

The old man didn't reply and pointed with his thumb at the sturdy door.

Jacque stood up and walked to the door and opened it. Behind the door was a small room with a table and a few chairs around it. Rethoc sat on one of the chairs and had a leather-wrapped bundle on the table.

"Ah, Jack! Come, come, have a seat!" - Rethoc signaled to Jacque.

Jacque didn't get angry this time at being called Jack, as it was his agreed alias when meeting. Instead, he closed the door behind him and sat across from Rethoc.

Rethoc started robbing his greasy hands and said, "So, Jack. I have brought the goods here as promised. Would you like to appraise them?"

As he said that, he pushed the bundle to Jacque.

Jacque didn't say anything, and instead opened the bundle and checked the contents. What he found were slightly scorched tome and parchments with various degrees of damage.

"It's damaged." - Jacque remarked as he started to browse the papers with his gloved hand.

"Well, that was all my contacts managed to salvage." - Rethoc shrugged and replied.

Jacque nodded in understanding as he busily flipped through the pages, checking their authenticity. After he confirmed that they were legitimate, he then took the tome and appraised it.

The tome's cover was an eerie red runic pentagram of sorts, written in the demonic language, with a symbol of a heart with an eye at the center. The heart also had two small circles on both sides with dots, making them look like breasts. The symbol of Lust.

"Did you attempt to read the book?" - Jacque inquired while maintaining his gaze on the tome.

"Yes, but the tome is written in some illegible jargon ancient language. I don't understand it, and my clients didn't have the luxury to hire a professional appraiser, so nobody can read it." - Rethoc answered honestly.

"I see..." - Jacque said, not removing his studious gaze from the tome.

After hesitating for a moment, Jacque opened the tome and started flipping through the pages. The book was written in Kryphgarian, an ancient merchant language that was common in the ages of old, as well as the forefather of the current common trade language, Tolorian, also just nicknamed "Common.". Most people in the world speak Common as either a main or secondary language, even some monster races.

As Jacque read through the tome, his mind unknowingly started becoming enamored as dark whispers ringed in his ears.

"...Pleasure... Lust... Transform... Seek... Eternal..."

"Well?" - Rethoc's enquiring voice snapped Jacque awake.

"Hah? What was I... It's Cursed!" - Jacque realized and quickly shut the book. A layer of cold sweat formed on his forehead.

Rethoc realized that something was wrong and hurriedly asked, "Jack?! Are you okay!?!"

Jacque rubbed his slightly dizzy head and answered.

"I-I'm fine. This tome is cursed, though. It will attempt to charm the target and make it its puppet. The trigger is likely either the ability to read the text or having magic potential. Likely the former." - Jacque truthfully explained.

Rethocs' expression turned ugly. From his interactions with Jacque, he knew that although Jacque was as thrifty as a merchant, he was honest in his appraisals and gave an acceptable and honorable price for things.

That also means that this tome was indeed cursed! If that was the case, it was better to get rid of it as soon as possible! Naturally, the higher the price he can get, the better, and the only person he knew would pay well for this kind of tome immediately was none other than Jacque.

Although he might get a higher price if he sold it to demon cultists, not only was it hard to find them, but it was also dangerous, as they might kill him without paying a dime.

Rethoc sighed in defeat and said, "Fine, if it's cursed, it's cursed. Do you want it? If so, how much are you willing to offer?"

At this point, he didn't even want to barter, only wanting to get rid of the cursed item off his hands as fast as possible.

Hearing his words, Jacque could already deduce Rethocs' thought pattern but didn't plan to use it. His father taught him to give a reasonable price, as an unreasonable one will lead to enmity.

"Fine, I will be reasonable and calculate the price with you, and you tell me if I am being unreasonable. This tome is a 'rare' grade magic tome holding some rituals and spells, and its market value should be around 3,000 gold pieces. However, there are multiple problems with it. First, it is slightly scorched, reducing the value by around 8%. Next, it is demonic, and also belongs to a cult that was recently destroyed, reducing its value by over 75%, but for fairness' sake, I will round it up to 750 gold pieces and won't count the damage factor. Lastly, it is cursed, reducing its value by 80%, and that is just an initial estimate. In summary, 150 gold pieces at most. Is that price fine with you?" - Jacque concluded.

Rethoc was stunned. He didn't imagine this tome being magic, and didn't expect it to be worth so much! His initial estimate was that it was barely worth 50 gold pieces at most. But now, Jacque offered him thrice that amount, so he still made a profit!

"Hahaha! Jack, you're a good fellow! Fine, I agree, I agree. Let's spit on it!"

Ptui* - Rethoc spat on his hand and extended it.

Jacque also lowered his face cloth, removed his right glove, and spat on his right hand.

Pah* - And then they both shook hands.

This was a customary way to seal deals between two parties. Once it is done, that means the deal is sealed, and no further negotiations and bartering can be done.

Putting back the glove and face mask, Jacque took out his pouch from his robe and started placing money on the table. This pouch was no ordinary pouch, but an enchanted one, possessing a deeper space that could hold up to an impressive 200 pounds of mass, while the pouch itself would only weigh a tenth of the mass inside it, namely, up to twenty pounds. Every 72 hours, however, he needs to recast the enchantment on it to maintain it, otherwise, it would lose its effects and the contents would spill on the ground.

Jacque had over 900 gold pieces saved up inside it, around 18 pounds of gold. After taking out 150 gold pieces, he was left with a bit over 750 gold pieces.

"Count it." - Jacque said.

"No need, I trust you, Jack. That means something." - Rethoc said meaningfully as he put the money in his pouch, but discovered that it barely managed to fit a third of the gold.

Rethoc couldn't help but mumble, "Damn wizards and their magic mumbo jumbo..."

Luckily for him, he brought a few extra pouches to be on the safe side.

While Rethoc placed his gold inside his pouches, Jacque rewrapped the tome and notes in the leather.

Just as they both finished and were about to depart, however, they heard a commotion outside. 

 

 

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