Tremendous! You've acquired Currency! Actual, tangible tokens that separate you from the truly destitute! Bask in the glow of those few copper pieces. Feel their weight. Smell them (actually, don't, gods know where they've been).
You likely have just enough to almost feel secure, but not quite. This brings us to the First Coin Dilemma?, a classic crossroads for the fledgling transmigrator. Your meager earnings present a choice, a critical decision that can shape your next few perilous days. What is your immediate priority?
- A) Secure Shelter: You're exhausted, exposed, and the thought of another night in an alley contemplating existential dread (or getting mugged) is unbearable. Basic survival demands a roof, however leaky. If this is your priority, proceed directly to Module 6A: Fleabag Inns & You.
- B) Press Your Advantage (Earn More): Shelter can wait! You have momentum! That first job wasn't so bad (you liar). Time to double down, find another quick gig, tackle that 'Kill 10 Rats' quest, and build your capital now before something inevitably goes wrong. If ambition (or desperation) drives you, jump to Module 6B: Risk vs. Reward - Early Quests.
- C) Invest in the Future (Gear Up): Forget fleeting comfort or risky ventures! What you really need is better equipment. A rusty dagger, perhaps? Sturdier boots? Anything to increase your pathetic stats or at least make you look slightly less like a walking target. Possessions are power (or at least slightly less vulnerability)! If shiny (or slightly tarnished) things call to you, venture forth to Module 6C: Equip Yourself (Cheaply).
Choose wisely, newbie. Each path has its merits and its pitfalls (often literal ones). Remember, the goal is long-term survival, not just making it through the next hour... though sometimes, that's all you can manage.
(Inkstained Prophet's Note: Honestly, just pick Shelter. Have you seen the size of the rats in some of these dimensions? And don't even get me started on trying to haggle for gear when you look like you wrestle slimes for fun. Disgusting.)
[Kevin's Story: Part 7 - Three Coppers and a Setting Sun]
Kevin cradled the three copper coins in his hand. They felt solid, real, earned through sweat and grime. The stew sat warmly in his belly, a temporary truce in his war against starvation. But the sun was dipping below the jagged roofline of Port Azure, painting the sky in hues of orange and bruised purple. Night was coming.
The [Basic Needs] quest still loomed: Shelter (0/1). His rooftop perch had been temporary, and the thought of sleeping in another alley, especially after experiencing the relative luxury of not being actively hungry, was deeply unappealing. He had 3 coppers.
He mentally reviewed the options, eerily similar to the theoretical choices laid out in the unseen Guide's Module 6.
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- Option A: Shelter. Find a place now. Three coppers probably wouldn't get him a private room, but maybe... a shared bunk? A spot on a tavern floor? Anything was better than cobblestones. It felt like the most sensible, immediate need.
- Option B: Earn More. Could he find another quick job right now? Unlikely, as most places seemed to be closing. Rat catching? The thought still made him shudder, and venturing into dark cellars at night with no weapon seemed suicidal, even for a single copper per tail. Risk felt too high.
- Option C: Gear. What could three coppers even buy? Maybe a stale bread roll? A whetstone? A single, slightly bent nail? Equipping himself felt premature when he couldn't even guarantee he wouldn't freeze or get rained on tonight.
Sense (and exhaustion) dictated Option A. He needed shelter. Now, how to find it? He remembered the barkeep at The Drunken Sailor mentioning pot boys sometimes slept in the back, but she hadn't offered, and he didn't dare ask.
He started walking, keeping an eye out for signs advertising lodging. Most looked too expensive, aimed at sailors or merchants. He needed the absolute bottom tier. He used [Urban Navigation (Slums)] again, hoping it would guide him towards places catering to the... less affluent.
The System's vague directions led him deeper into a maze of narrow, poorly lit streets. He passed flophouses with barred windows and doorways emanating suspicious smells. He inquired at one, a grimy establishment called 'The Rusty Anchor'.
"A bed? For tonight?" a one-eyed man behind a makeshift counter wheezed, looking Kevin up and down with open disdain. "Five coppers for a bunk in the dorm. Shared space. No snorin', no stealin', no funny business."
"I... I only have three," Kevin admitted, feeling his hope dwindle.
The man laughed, a phlegmy rattle. "Three coppers? Might get you a spot on the floor by the privy if Ol' Man Hemlock don't show up tonight. He usually pays two."
A spot on the floor. Near the privy. For three coppers. It was disgusting, humiliating... and available. Kevin's shoulders slumped. "I'll take it."
Just as he handed over his hard-earned coins, a drunken sailor stumbled past the entrance, bumping heavily into Kevin. Kevin staggered back, his hand instinctively going to the now-empty space where his coins were.
"Watch it, bilge rat!" the sailor slurred, before weaving down the street.
Kevin checked his ragged pouch. Empty. He patted his pockets. Empty. The three copper coins were gone.
He stared in disbelief. Pickpocketed? In the split second of the bump? Or did they fall? He frantically scanned the grimy floor near the entrance. Nothing.
Ding!
[Event Triggered: Unfortunate Encounter!]
[Item Lost: Copper Pieces x3]
[Cause: LUK Stat (3) vs. Environmental Hazard (Drunk Sailor/Opportunistic Thief/Sheer Bad Luck)]
[Quest Progress Lost: Obtain 10 Copper Pieces (0/10)]
[Status Effect Triggered: [Frustration] - Minor decrease to INT and DEX temporarily.]
Kevin wanted to scream. He wanted to punch something. His first earnings, gone in an instant thanks to his cursed luck. He looked at the one-eyed innkeeper, who merely shrugged.
"Tough break, kid. No coin, no spot. Now clear off."
Defeated, frustrated, and penniless once again, Kevin stumbled back out into the darkening streets. Shelter was no longer an option. Earning seemed impossible now. Gear was a distant dream.
He was back to square one, with night falling fast and the alleys looking colder and more menacing than ever.