What's Wrong with Being a Tauren?

A few more employees had joined Drogo's Toy Store.

Yes, limited by Drogo and his subordinates' rather modest cultural standards, he had ultimately chosen to use his own name for the store.

After all, Aclight across the street had named his shop the same way.

Drogo was more or less one of the continent's most famous villains. Naming a toy store after him created a sense of contrast while also seeming absurdly playful, showing the owner's determination to make toys unlike anyone else's.

That was how he convinced himself the name made perfect sense.

The new employees were local girls he had hired, since the motley bunch under his command truly was not suited to being sales assistants.

The store was deserted. After seven days, sales had only barely surpassed five silver coins, and several of those had been friendly purchases from Sir Bane.

Drogo was not worried. Once the plot of Blazing Teens unfolded and its popularity built up, things would naturally improve.

Since he had free time now, he might as well study some magic books. Dragon-language magic was engraved in his genes; there was no need to learn it, as it came naturally.

He knew absolutely nothing about real magic.

He had not been interested before because even the eighth-circle Cloud-Burning Art could not compare to a single breath of dragon fire. Now that he had switched tracks, it was better to learn more.

He had not realized it until he started studying, but his talent for magic was astonishing. Clearly, this big dragon head had not grown for nothing.

While he immersed himself in studying, Aisha became as anxious as a rookie webnovel author constantly refreshing the backend to check their bookmark numbers.

Even the way she looked at Drogo carried a hint of frustrated disappointment.

They were tied to the same rope now. If the Yo-yo business really went under, who would pay her a monthly salary of twenty-five silver coins?

Toto thought so too.

So she decided to earn as much as she could before the shop went bankrupt, throwing herself wholeheartedly into developing Yo-yo techniques.

Her mental state made people wonder how many days ago she had last slept.

Her face was ashen, her eyes lifeless, her hair greasy and shining. Her hands stiffly but precisely repeated the motions, while she muttered without pause, "Another five silver coins, another five silver coins, hehehehehe..."

The Goblins had already started a betting pool on what day Toto would die in the store.

"Ding-ding—"

The doorbell rang.

A middle-aged man walked in. Though summer had already begun, he wore a tailcoat and top hat and leaned on a cane.

There was clearly a clock in the shop, yet he put on a show of checking his pocket watch, exuding the pretentious air of someone role-playing as a noble.

He looked nothing like the target audience for Yo-yos, nor like someone who had read Blazing Teens.

Although they had submitted it widely at the time, most newspapers and magazines had not published it. The mainstream still looked down on comics, and only gossip papers were willing to accept them.

The man politely declined the employee's introduction and wandered around the store on his own. He tried several Yo-yos, failed to figure them out, yet commented on every single one.

"Color schemes lacking in aesthetic appeal."

"The craftsmanship is somewhat rough."

"You have not grasped how children think."

That alone would have been tolerable, but he also kept adding little verbal tics: "Hehe, oh dear, hmph hmph, tsk tsk..."

Perhaps because it was mid-month, Aisha, already anxious enough, grew even more irritated.

The more she watched his every move, the more unpleasant he became to look at. She wanted nothing more than to close the doors and unleash the Orcs on him.

After making several rounds, the man finally came to stand before Aisha and bowed first.

"Beautiful lady, I presume you are the manager of this store?"

"Yes," Aisha replied curtly.

"Madam, anger is bad for the skin."

Aisha, you are a second-circle illusionist, the chief designer of Yo-yo special effects, the manager of a toy store, and outstanding talent earning twenty-five silver coins a month. You need to be mature.

She forced herself to suppress the urge to slap him across the face.

The man continued, "I am Hakan Acklet. I own a small toy store that happens to be across the street."

"Wow, amazing. I never would have guessed. You're so impressive. Would you like me to reward you with a Yo-yo?"

Acklet ignored Aisha's sarcasm.

"My store may be doing just a little better than this one. If you lose your job, you are welcome to work at my store. The role of clown would suit you well."

Having said that, he gave Aisha no chance to retort and walked straight out. At the entrance, he bowed again and called loudly, "I hope to see you at my store soon."

Aisha was seeing red.

Acklet returned to his own store in an excellent mood.

His younger brother asked nervously, "How was it? How is that store's business doing?"

"Not a threat at all. When I saw them renovate so quickly and open that day, I thought they were someone formidable. They dared to open directly across from us, yet in a week they have not sold as much as we do in an hour."

"That shouldn't be. I think the Yo-yos are designed quite well. There should be lots of ways to play with them." He was still holding a Yo-yo taken apart into two halves.

"Don't worry. There is no need to care about these Yo-yos. Keep making toys according to your own ideas. The store across the street will not last many days."

Hakan took off his coat, poured himself a glass of wine, and drank it in one gulp. With disdain, he said, "They even call themselves Drogo. Do they really think they have an evil dragon in their store?"

Arclight Toy Store was run by two brothers. The older brother, Hakan, managed the shop, while the younger brother, Kalaman, designed and made the toys.

Night fell, and Cornflower Street also sank into silence.

When Hakan closed up, he deliberately glanced once more at Drogo's Toy Store. It had shut early, so it surely had little business again.

His own success was certainly pleasing, but his opponent's failure was even more exciting.

After returning home, he specifically instructed the servants to prepare a lavish dinner. He intended to celebrate.

Time spent with family was always warm.

Although he had accumulated quite a fortune selling toys, he did not want his three children to enter the same trade.

The reason was simple: selling toys could never make someone a noble.

Even if the royal family played with toys from his store, in the eyes of nobles, he was still merely a small-time merchant.

So he had sent all his children to the best schools. If they awakened magical talent, becoming a fifth-circle mage would earn them a title.

Even without magical talent, they should study hard and become lawyers, doctors, scholars, or something similar. In any case, they could not follow him into selling toys.

Dinner was soon ready. After they finished their pre-meal prayer to the Goddess of Magic and were about to enjoy the food, they discovered someone was missing.

"Where is Ben?" Hakan asked.

Ben was his youngest son and also the best student. His teachers praised him, saying he could enter Peren Tower in the future.

That was one of the Twin Towers, where the Technological Society and the Academy of Sciences were located. Even ordinary nobles had to show the scholars inside a degree of respect.

Nothing could go wrong with him. All his energy had to go toward studying.

"He should be upstairs studying," his wife answered. "I called for him several times, but he never came down."

"Then I'll go get him." Hakan even brought a plate of Ben's favorite dessert, intending to show some fatherly affection.

He went upstairs and knocked softly on the door.

"Ben, it's me."

"Wait a moment!" Sounds of hurriedly putting things away came from inside.

Hakan immediately sensed something was wrong. He reached for the door, only to find it locked from within.

"Didn't I say no one was allowed to lock doors in this house? What are you doing in there?"

"Nothing!" After several hurried footsteps, the door opened, and Ben stood in the doorway wearing pajamas.

"I got tired from studying, so I took a nap. I locked the door because I didn't want the servants disturbing me."

"The servants are not allowed into your room without your permission. Did you forget?"

"But, that's not—"

Before Ben could explain, Hakan shoved him aside and walked into the room, examining every detail like a detective.

What was tucked inside that book?

He took the book from the pile, opened it, and found a folded newspaper inside.

When he unfolded it, it was full of comics.

"What is this? Blazing Teens?" He read out the nonsensical name in his eyes. "Is this something you should be reading?"

As he spoke, he tore the newspaper apart in a few quick motions.

"Don't tear it! A classmate lent that to me..." Ben pleaded, his voice thick with tears.

"You're supposed to enter Peren Tower someday. Do you think I work so hard to earn money so you can read this?"

Hakan slammed the torn newspaper onto the table.

"Clatter—"

Two round objects fell from the shelf on the table.

Hakan found them familiar. He picked them up and saw the words Firepower Warrior and Blazing Dragon Ball written on them.

These were Yo-yos?