A brave man may not live, but he cannot die

Chapter 20 Similar
"The answer is what I expected."

Ankuya raised his hand and glanced at his watch.

"Let's go and get you an identity."

Quinn was stunned. He had thought of a lot of excuses to deal with Ankua, but he didn't expect that the other party would not even ask.

"So, is the matter of the extraordinary people settled?"

"Ah."

Ankuya smiled casually, "I didn't think you would refuse."

"." Quinn felt suffocated as if he was being manipulated.

"You're scared, Quinn."

Ankuya stared at him with deep eyes, as if he could see through his defenses and see the most naked soul.

"You're like a rabbit surrounded by wolves, terrified but unsure how to escape—your Majesty, the demons, the monsters, the Church, the transcendents...even me. You're afraid of everything in our world."

"So you've been holding on, pretending to have adapted, using all sorts of abstract and strange words to mask your inner fear. You've been studying voraciously, desperate to survive. You've kept the curtains drawn day and night, fearing the Vatican might find you again, and you've been peeking through the cracks at the street outside your apartment, wary of everything. You haven't gotten much sleep these days, have you?"

The porcelain white coffee cup reflected Quinn's dark circles under his eyes.

He gave a tired, bitter laugh: "I'm being watched."

"It is also my job to ensure that you, the demon warrior, do not defect."

"So you deliberately left me alone for a week?" Quinn was deeply bored.

"You even chose an apartment next to a church. Do you think I'd report you to the True God Church to protect myself? Ha, it was the Demon King who dragged me here first, without even asking for my opinion."

From outside the window came the sound of the Eternal Church bell, tolling ten times.

The midday sun shone lightly on the ground, and Quinn felt sleepy for the first time in a long time.

No matter how tired he was these days, he would nervously stand by the window, reading and observing the world.

But he wanted to sleep now, and suddenly he lost interest in dealing with this guy.

"Go to hell."

Click.

Something slid across the table and in front of Quinn.

It was a small, quaint revolver.

The muzzle and trigger are engraved with intricate and fine patterns, like an eye.

"This gun is called the 'Mistad'. It's a weapon with extraordinary properties, designed to protect you before you become an extraordinary. Once the safety is released, it automatically aims and corrects the trajectory, so even those with no prior experience with a gun can use it. It has six rounds of ammunition. If you encounter that Sequence Nine priest again, if he's caught off guard, one shot will kill him."

There was a barely perceptible smile on Ankua's lips. This was the first time Quinn felt genuine kindness from this arrogant guy.

"I think we should get along well. We are the same people. When faced with fear, we can only resent our own weakness and inadequacy."

Quinn picked up the pistol, feeling its heavy grip.

".Is this a joining gift?"

"Welcome to the great cause of demon revival, Quinn."

Ankuya casually threw his baseball cap to him and said, "Put it on. Your hairstyle is too messy. It affects the image of the demon clan."

Quinn shaved his hair with a sickle without looking in the mirror. After a week of growing it out, he looked like a half-developed hedgehog.

"This is proof of my suffering. Hey, wait for me."

Quinn put the pistol in his waistband, covered it with the hem of his clothes, and chased after him.

It was Quinn's first time out of the house in a week. With a gun in his pocket, he finally felt more confident.

Ankuya took a few steps and then stopped again.

"I forgot to tell you that there are some details of life that books can't teach you." He took out his wallet and poured out a few scattered coins.

The walls are covered with densely packed gas pipes - not every apartment building has gas lamps, and the gas company will only install them when half of the residents in the building have consumption needs.

At the confluence of these wire tubes, there is a mechanical device enclosed in an iron shell, equipped with a wrench and a digital flip table.

Ankuya pulled the wrench and adjusted the number on the flip table to 304 - this was Quinn's room number. With a pleasant sound of gears, he took out a silver coin and stuffed it into the coin slot. It rolled along the passage with a clang and no one knew where it was going.

"Ka--Puchi--"

The clatter of bearings and gears resonated. Once the weighing device verified the coin's denomination, it quickly increased the pressure in the designated pipe. About four seconds later, the pressure gauge labeled "304" began to rotate, its needle shifting from red to blue.

"Gas lamps require prepayment. If you light them sparingly, a silver coin will last about a month. If the gas pressure gauge reaches zero, it means it's time to pay."

Ankua looked at Quinn who was in awe, hesitated for a moment, and dropped the remaining coins into the hat he was holding.

"Here, I'll give it to you."

“.Here are the chicken feathers!!!”

Quinn's defense broke down: "Don't give me that beggar's face, damn it!"

Ankua turned away apologetically.

But no matter how you look at his mouth, it looks like he's trying to hold back a smile. This guy really has a bad taste.

A few coins were of gold and silver, most of which were the smallest 'penny' size.

Pennies were the common currency of the Southern Continent. According to the book, the average monthly income for a farmer was between two and three thousand pennies, while laborers in the city earned more, perhaps as much as four thousand pennies. If one was frugal enough, after deducting rent and living expenses, there would still be a few hundred left.

One hundred pennies could be exchanged for one silver coin, which was the one Ankua had just put into the gas meter.

Silver coins are made of pure silver, which has the properties of precious metals and is commonly used in commercial transactions. Although the designs of silver coins vary from country to country, they all adopt a unified standard in weight and size, facilitating cross-border trade.

And ten silver coins can be exchanged for one 'gold pound'.

In the Southern Continent's monetary system, a standard gold pound contained approximately 2.5 grams of gold, making it a truly valuable, world-class hard currency. Of the coins Ankua had given him, there was only one gold pound, standing alone, radiating a beautiful luster.

"It's a pity that the company can't provide us with any financial support."

The wooden staircase creaked under their feet. Quinn bet that this apartment building was at least twenty years old. The "company" Ankua was referring to was the demons. The two agreed to use code names like "company" and "boss" to avoid attention when they were out and about.

It was almost like two clerks talking about work.

"So, I have to earn the money myself?"

Quinn called the capitalists from another world "damn shit", saying they were working and paying for their dreams, right?

"Although I can support you a little," Ankua took out his wallet, showed it to Quinn, and said sincerely, "But as you can see, I'm not rich either. So if you have any hobbies, you'll need to figure it out on your own."

".I don't really have a penchant for spending money."

Quinn said as he thought about Ankua's careless discarding of the crystal cup.

And that bottle of good-tasting whiskey
Could this guy be a moonlighter who only cares about pleasure?
As I walked out of the apartment, the sunlight hit me in the face.

A car pulled by a Chocobo was waiting at the door of the apartment.

"three things."

Ankuya got in the car and pulled the reins. "I'll get you an identity, prepare for your next work, and get the materials to advance to the ninth level of the Fate Sequence of the Brave."

(End of this chapter)