The Currency Crisis (or How I Almost Died to Economics)

Currency Crisis at the Hostess of Fertility:

I know I'm a mess.

But now?

I'm an even bigger wreck.

I stared down at my open palms as if they held the verdict of my own trial.

In one hand-a 100-yen coin, silver and utterly worthless.

In the other-a one-dollar bill, green and equally valueless.

And before me?

Mama Mia.

Her shadow loomed over the table like an executioner's blade. Arms crossed. Muscles taut. Her eyes, locked on me with a terrifying intensity, seemed to have already calculated the exact wall my skull would first strike and the number of fragments it would shatter into.

My head is about to become intimately acquainted with one of these walls, I mused distantly.

A stark reminder.

A chilling warning.

Never cross Mama Mia.

The faint indentations in the surrounding woodwork suddenly made perfect, terrifying sense.

I swallowed hard, a dry knot in my throat.

This was it.

The precipice where all my accumulated fan knowledge, all my meticulous theorizing, all my desperate, unwavering optimism-

-collided and perished against the unforgiving rock of basic economics.

The Reckoning

"What in the hell are you doing here, you little shrimp?"

Her voice struck me with the force of a hurled table.

Every adventurer within earshot flinched at that tone. The cozy warmth of the tavern-the aroma of roasting meat, the tang of ale, the swell of laughter-instantly congealed into an atmosphere of palpable danger.

Behind the counter, Mama Mia stood, arms still crossed, veins bulging as if personally affronted by my very existence.

"You think you can dine here without paying?" she continued, her eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. "Perhaps I should simply fry you up and serve you to the patrons?"

My soul made an immediate exit from my body.

Like-a physical evacuation. Gone. Fleeing. Seeking a restraining order against its own consciousness.

"No-Mama Mia!" a voice interjected swiftly, desperately. "Our customers are not to be trifled with. Please, calm yourself."

A gentle voice. Soft. Perfectly timed.

I didn't need to turn to know who it was.

(Ah! My goddess Freya-no, wait-Syr-my savior!)

Syr Flova materialized beside the counter, hands demurely folded, her expression one of such innocent purity it could disarm a war god. That soft, teddy-bear face radiated an almost tangible "please-don't-kill-him" aura.

Mama Mia merely clicked her tongue. "Hmph."

She leaned forward-her shadow momentarily engulfing me-and her tone shifted. Rapidly. Far too rapidly. From harsh accusation to sharp interrogation.

"You, little boy." Her eyes bored into the very core of my soul. "You pay when you eat."

A pregnant pause.

"Do you have money?"

"Are you perhaps lost?" Syr asked softly, her concern plastered across her face like frosting on a cake baked of deceit and divine conspiracy.

The tavern fell silent in that peculiar way-everyone pretending not to listen while simultaneously hanging on every word.

I swallowed.

Then, with all the doomed dignity of a man facing his final, inevitable moments-

I reached into my pocket.

And drew forth-

-a one-dollar bill.

Then, from the other pocket-

-a 100-yen coin.

I held them up.

Silence.

An absolute, deafening silence.

Then-

"...What exactly is that?"

Heaven (Briefly)

Before I could even formulate a reply, pandemonium erupted.

All the girls-every single one of them, save for the green-haired elf behind the counter and Mama Mia herself-swarmed me instantly.

Anya Fromel was the first to lean in, her cat ears twitching, eyes sparkling like festive lights.

"It looks so cool, nyaaa~!"

A hand darted out towards the dollar bill.

Chloe Lolo grinned languidly, already halfway to snatching it. "I want it, nyaaa."

"Is it foreign currency?"

"Where did you acquire this?"

"May I keep it?"

"It's utterly bizarre!"

I stood there, frozen amidst the throng of women, each capable of breaking me in two, all of them leaning close, voices overlapping in a dizzying cacophony, hands reaching-

Is this heaven? I wondered vaguely.

Am I dead?

Did Mama Mia already dispatch me, and is this the afterlife?

Behind the flurry, Lyu Lion stood silently at the counter. Arms crossed. Her gaze sharp. Measuring.

Not curious.

Observing.

And then-

SLAM.

Mama Mia's palm struck the counter with the resounding finality of a gavel.

The sheer force of the sound silenced the entire room.

Every girl froze. Recoiled. Suddenly finding immense interest in other tables.

Mama Mia loomed over me once more, her eyes like cannonballs.

"Kid."

I nodded. Hard. Fast. Repeatedly.

"This time," she enunciated slowly, cracking her knuckles one by one, "you got off easy."

Thank you, thank you, thank you-

"But next time?"

Oh, no.

"I'll smack you." She pointed one colossal finger directly at my face. "Understand?"

"Mmmmm," I articulated intelligently, my brain having entirely severed its connection to my speech centers.

She jerked her chin towards the door. "Now, scram."

"Mmmmm," I replied again, bowing so profoundly I nearly folded myself in half.

I slid off the stool like a man making a desperate escape from a dragon's lair-backwards, hands raised in appeasement, my eyes never once leaving her formidable face.

The door clicked shut behind me.

Tak. Tak. Taktak.

The Street.

My footsteps echoed into the burgeoning night as the tavern's lingering warmth dissipated, and reality returned with the sting of a sharp slap.

I halted in the middle of the street.

Breathing heavily.

Alive.

"...Now I need money."

Not mere coins.

Not peculiar curiosities.

Not exotic foreign currency that drew the eager attention of charming waitresses.

Valis.

I gazed upwards at the colossal tower piercing the city's skyline-Babel, faintly glowing against the inky canvas of the night, the Dungeon entrance gaping beneath it like the maw of something primordial and insatiable.

The very air vibrated with an electric mix of danger.

And promise.

I grinned.

"No choice, then."

I clenched my fists, feeling that subtle warmth on my back stir in response-quiet, eager, ready.

The ghost falna quickened.

Not with a clamor. Not with a flashy display.

Simply there.

"Dungeon," I declared, stepping forward into the encroaching darkness.

"I'm coming."

And this time?

I meant every word.

Epilogue: The Plan

Step 1: Don't perish.

Step 2: Obtain magic stones.

Step 3: Convert said magic stones into valis.

Step 4: Return to the Hostess of Fertility.

Step 5: Pay for my meal like a fully functional member of society.

Step 6: Avoid being suplexed by Mama Mia.

Simple.

Utterly foolproof.

What could possibly go awry?

I strode towards Babel Tower, my hands still tingling from the fleeting touch of the girls upon my strange foreign money, my heart still hammering from the recent brush with oblivion.

The night swallowed me whole as I pressed on toward the Dungeon.

Tomorrow, I would uncover the true capabilities of my ghost falna.

Tonight?

I had survived Mama Mia.

That alone, I mused, deserved a medal.

💀

Behind him, a pair of keen green eyes observed from the tavern window.

Lyu Lion tilted her head almost imperceptibly.

"...Strange," she murmured softly.

Then, she turned back to her duties.

---

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***