"Extra-large? Something that won't tear no matter how much they claw at it?"
The shopkeeper froze, blinking his tiny, beady eyes twice in confusion.
"Are you... planning to use it for a pet?"
"Something like that."
Haimo was thinking of the two bears.
After all, they were Hanabishi Warabi's pride and joy.
Especially the big fellow called Fierce Man. Tough as he was, he was still part of the familia's fighting force. Haimo couldn't skimp on his accommodations.
"We have that! Of course we do!"
As long as there was money to be made, he had anything they needed. If he didn't, he would conjure it up somehow!
The shopkeeper's eyes lit up. He immediately ducked into a corner of the storeroom and hauled out a roll of unassuming thick padding with a series of grunts.
"This is made from Rockskin Giant Lizard hide. It may not look very pretty, but it's incredibly hard-wearing! Even a knife would have trouble cutting through it!"
Haimo reached out and tugged at it.
Not bad.
"All right, I'll take it."
With that settled.
Haimo continued picking out quite a few things to suit the others' tastes.
He chose an elegant vanity and full-length mirror for Kikakujō Mary-she was a young lady of standing, after all, and keeping up appearances mattered.
He chose a cabinet with plenty of drawers and hidden compartments for Hanabishi Warabi-perfect for stashing her assorted little props and snacks.
"And this liquor cabinet, plus that tea set over there..."
Half an hour later.
The bill in the shopkeeper's hands filled an entire long page.
As for the final total.
Even for a giant like the [Ganesha Familia], while it wouldn't put a serious dent in their finances, it certainly counted as a considerable extra expense.
"..."
The shopkeeper wiped the sweat from his forehead. It was sweat born of excitement.
If this deal went through, he could close up for the rest of the month and spend his days counting money!
"That should be about everything."
Haimo finally stopped walking and looked around, making sure he hadn't missed anything.
"Of course, of course!"
"Um... Lady Shakti, would you care to look this over?"
The shopkeeper hurriedly nodded and bowed, then nervously handed the bill to Shakti, who had followed them in silence the entire time.
"If Lord Haimo chose it, then there is naturally no problem."
Shakti took the bill without expression, glanced at the figures, then pulled a seal from the purse at her waist and stamped it firmly onto the check.
Smack.
That sound.
To the shopkeeper, it was nothing less than the sound of money landing in his pocket!
With that settled.
They left the furniture shop.
The afternoon sunlight was a little dazzling.
Haimo stretched, clearly in a good mood.
They had a house.
They had furniture, too.
And the children of his familia were working hard in the Dungeon, fighting monsters and leveling up.
Everything was moving in the right direction.
"Thank you, Captain Shakti."
Haimo turned and smiled at the dutiful Shakti.
"I'll remember the Ganesha Familia's generosity."
"This is also my way of making up for my earlier failure."
"As long as the matter of your escort no longer troubles you, Lord Haimo."
Shakti answered with meticulous seriousness.
"Oh, it certainly doesn't trouble me now."
Haimo shrugged.
"After all, having a beautiful, wealthy escort like you at my side is a blessing most people could only dream of, Captain Shakti."
"..."
Shakti didn't take the bait.
She merely adjusted her position in silence, maintaining that unshakable distance of five paces.
"Then is there anything else you need to purchase, Lord Haimo?"
"Or are you planning to head back?"
"There's no rush."
Haimo looked up at the sky.
The sun had already begun sinking westward.
By his reckoning.
Several hours had passed since the children went off to run wild in the Dungeon.
They should be coming back soon.
In that case.
Haimo thought for a moment, then started walking.
"Let's visit the Hephaestus Familia's headquarters first."
Chapter 37: Huh?
[Oakheart] was on North Street.
Setting out from there.
It took them roughly half an hour.
Only then did [Valka's Red House], the workshop and headquarters of the [Hephaestus Familia], come into view.
The thunder of hammering rang through the place year-round, and even the air smelled of coke mingled with metal.
The moment they entered the lobby.
A wave of heat mixed with the scorched smell of metal washed over them-the distinctive scent of a smithing familia.
However.
Before that heat could hit them, an utterly pitiful wail assaulted their ears.
"Waaah... Hephaestus~~~~!"
"You can't do this to me!"
"I'm going to starve to death!"
The cries were so heart-wrenching they could have moved anyone who heard them to tears.
Anyone who didn't know better might have thought some horrific case of divine abuse had occurred here.
There she was.
Beside a guest table in a corner of the lobby.
An unidentified blue-and-white lump huddled there.
It was a person.
Or, more accurately.
A goddess.
Those unmistakable twin tails.
And that blue ribbon running beneath her breasts, cinching them into a startling curve.
Who else could it be but Hestia?
Except.
At that very moment.
Hestia was rolling her face across the tabletop like a washed-up fish that had given up on life, making a series of noises that drew everyone's attention.
A dark aura of dejection radiated from her entire body.
"Grrrrumble..."
"Boohoo... I'm so hungry..."
"I haven't eaten for hours. That heartless Hephaestus..."
Hestia raised her head.
Her normally bright, round little face had crumpled into a miserable grimace.
The cause was simple.
Not long ago.
She had finally gotten enough sleep and stumbled groggily out of the guest room in search of food, stray tufts of hair sticking out in every direction.
Usually.
Even if she had thoroughly missed lunchtime by this hour.
Still.
All she needed to do was wander through the workshop, bat those big, watery eyes a couple of times, and call out "Hephaestus~" in a syrupy-sweet voice.
Hephaestus, all stern words and a soft heart, would scold her with an exasperated "What am I going to do with you?" while having someone bring her a piping-hot lunch.
That trick had never failed.
That was why Hestia had felt so secure.
But!
Today!
The script had changed!
When Hestia found her way to Hephaestus's private workshop with practiced ease.
What greeted her wasn't Hephaestus's helplessly fond sigh.
Instead, it was a cold, unwelcoming wooden sign hanging from the door handle, which read [Working in seclusion. Do not disturb. Not even Hestia!].
And the door was locked from the inside!