The People Walking in Dungeons are surely not Normal

This kind of problem must be corrected, and it must be fast, preferably today!

I secretly made up my mind: I must not lose my life just to save money!

After leaving the dungeon, I first repaid the owner’s interest and part of the debt, and weighed the coins in his pocket twice: apart from the two gold coins still owed, there were three gold coins and fourteen silver coins left.

It should be enough...

I mumbled to myself.

Looking left and right, looking forward and backward, finally chose a familiar weapons shop, opened the door, no one in the shop.

I coughed deliberately, but no one answered.

"Anyone?" I asked softly.

Stepping into the store, turning his head left and right, but no one can be found.

"Nobody..." I said to myself.

"Someone."

At this time, a enthusiastic but slightly hoarse voice sounded.

I was taken aback, and followed the sound. Sitting on the counter, there was an old goblin with pale green skin, no waist height, and a mid-point wig.

Hey, isn't this the old profiteer who drove me out last time!

The old goblin rubbed his bloodshot eyes, looked at me carefully, and tentatively said: "Where did I meet you?"

"Have you seen it?" I pretended to be a fool on purpose.

"Well, let me think about it" the old goblin thought, touching his chin.

"Could you put the memory link aside first, I am here this time to build a weapon."

"What weapon?" the old goblin asked subconsciously.

"Great sword."

Suddenly, the old goblin's face flushed, his eyes widened, he raised his head, shaking the sparse beard on his chin violently. He raised his stubby right hand, extended his index finger, and pointed at my face with a trembling finger. , The whole person fell into a semi-mad state.

"I remember, you. You."

Seeing the excitement of his blowing beard and staring eyes, a big drop of sweat accumulated on my forehead: What does he want to express?

He was excited for a long time without saying a word. At the end, he suddenly stretched out his hand and fumbled around on the counter.

I was shocked, what is he doing, looking for weapons? Is this to kill me for revenge?

But he and I only had a relationship with repairing weapons before, so it's not so radical..

While thinking about it, he tremblingly took out a small bottle, opened the bottle cap tremblingly, poured out two red pills, then opened his mouth wide, raised his neck, and swallowed it.

Then he sat down on the chair and sighed again and again.

Seeing his face gradually turned into a normal color, I can finally conclude that the old profiteer is really sick, not pretending to be sick to raise the price, and at the same time, one thing can be determined. The last iron film incident seemed to really anger him. It's broken, otherwise I won't be so impressed by such a pauper.

After a long while, he eased his breath and said weakly: "I remember I said, you are not welcome here, please go out."

I scowled and said, "Old man, don't be so excited. Be kind and make money."

The old goblin’s face finally turned back to light green completely. He calmed his excitement. He originally wanted to reject my order, but when he raised his hand to see off the guests, he stopped and hesitated for a while. Finally sighed and said: "If you fool me with the iron film this time, I will definitely report you to the adventurer base."

"No, no" I waved my hand again and again and said, "This time it should be a good thing."

After that, he untied the two swords from his back and placed them on the counter.

As soon as I put my hand out, the old goblin's eyes flickered suddenly, a pair of eyes fixed on my cast iron handguard, and he refused to move away.

"what happened?"

Seeing his weird expression, I asked puzzled.

"Show me your guards" the old goblin was anxious.

He took off his handguard and handed it up, he took it with both hands, put on his glasses, and studied it seriously.

After a long time, he raised his head and squinted at me.

"How did your pair of guards come from?" The old goblin's tone was serious.

"Is there something famous?" I thought to myself, in order to reduce unnecessary trouble, naturally I wouldn't tell him that it was cut from the guardian monster, so I vaguely said: "It's a monster."

"No wonder. No wonder." The old goblin's tone was clear, as if my answer was taken for granted.

"Is there anything famous?" I asked.

"Of course it's famous, and it's not small," the old goblin said solemnly: "This is a pair of enchanted gloves."

"Attach, enchant gloves!"

As if I had heard it wrong, I was stunned, and it took me a long time to relax my mind: "Really?"

"You can question my height, but not my professionalism!"

The old goblin said proudly: "Although I dare not call myself a master, I can definitely be called an expert!"

expert..

Why do I always feel unreliable every time I hear this word...

Looking around, the weapon shop is small and dim. Although it is often cleaned and relatively clean, it doesn't look like a shop at the level of an expert—at least it must be hundreds of times larger than this shop to make sense!

He glanced suspiciously, picked up the handguard, and asked: "You said this handguard is enchanted... why didn't I see it?"

"So you are laymen." The old goblin pointed to the fine particles all over the pig iron guard and said, "Look at these particles, are there any differences."

When I got the handguards, I always thought that these particles were made by the puppets being born faster. After listening to the old goblins, I noticed the clues. Normal pig iron is gray, and its particles should also be gray, but I looked closely and discovered that these particles turned out to be black.

"What are these?" I couldn't help asking.

"Obsidian" the old goblin said: "It is an ore that can increase the strength of equipment."

"You boy is really lucky. Obsidian is not produced in the Zephyr Continent. The price of the equipment enchanted with it is generally high. It will definitely not be something a poor boy like you can afford. If you just said that this weapon is You bought it, I will definitely think you are a thief."

"I always say that I am a poor boy, so you are so sure that I am poor?" I argued: "What if I act low-key without revealing my wealth?"

"Impossible" the goblin boss affirmed: "The adventurer industry has always been a high-risk industry. Anyone who is rich will equip himself as a fortress, and will never swagger around in a beggar suit."

He raised his eyes slightly and jokingly said, "Unless you are a fool who doesn't take your life seriously."

I was speechless, and looked at him for a few seconds before finally admiring.

"Okay" I said helplessly: "You are right, I am indeed a poor boy."

The old goblin took advantage of his words and nodded with satisfaction.

Putting on the glasses, he continued to check the two swords that I handed over. He first drew out the knight sword, carefully checked it under the magic lamp for a long time, nodded, inserted the sword hilt, and set it aside.

Then, he picked up the dagger again, weighed it, frowned, slowly pulled the sword out of its sheath, and observed it closely.

After a while, he struck up again.

"Where did you get this sword?"

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