Chapter 63 Enchanted Gauntlet

This problem must be corrected, and it must be corrected quickly, preferably today!

I secretly made up my mind: I will never waste my life just to save money!

After leaving the dungeon, I first paid off the interest and part of the debt owed to the landlady, and then weighed the coins in my pocket: apart from the two gold coins I still owed, there were still three gold coins and fourteen silver coins left.

It should be enough

I muttered to myself.

I looked left and right, forward and back, and finally chose a weapons shop that seemed familiar to me. I opened the door, but there was no one in the shop.

I coughed deliberately, but no one answered.

"Is anyone there?" I asked softly.

Stepping into the store, I turned my head left and right, but I couldn't find anyone.

"Is there no one?" I said to myself.

"Someone."

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

I was startled and followed the sound. Sitting at the counter was an old goblin with light green skin, no higher than waist height, and a middle-parted wig.

Hey, isn't this the old profiteer who kicked me out last time?

The old goblin rubbed his bloodshot eyes, looked at me carefully, and asked tentatively: "Have I seen you somewhere?"

"Have you seen it?" I deliberately pretended to be stupid.

"Well, let me think about it." The old goblin touched his chin and said thoughtfully.

"Can you put the reminiscence aside for now? I'm here this time to build a weapon."

"What weapon?" the old goblin asked subconsciously.

"Tachi."

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

"I remembered, you.you."

Seeing him blowing his beard and staring with excitement, a big drop of sweat accumulated on my forehead: What on earth did he want to express?

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

I was shocked. What was he doing? Looking for a weapon? Are you trying to kill me for revenge?

But I only had a relationship with him once when we were repairing weapons, so we couldn't be so radical.

While he was thinking wildly, he tremblingly took out a small bottle, tremblingly opened the cap, 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 repeatedly.

Seeing his expression gradually change to a normal expression, I could finally conclude that this old profiteer was really sick and was not pretending to be sick in order to raise the price. At the same time, I could also be sure of one thing. The last iron film incident seemed to really piss him off. It's broken, otherwise it wouldn't have made such a deep impression on a pauper like me.

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

I frowned and said, "Old man, don't be so excited. Being kind makes you rich."

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

"No, no," I waved my hands repeatedly and said, "This time it should be something good."

After that, he took off the long and short swords from his back and put them on the counter.

The moment I stretched out my hand, the old goblin's eyes suddenly flickered, and his eyes were fixed on my cast iron gauntlet, refusing to move away.

"What's wrong?"

Seeing him looking weird, I asked in confusion.

"Show me your gauntlets" the old goblin said urgently.

He took off the gauntlet and handed it over. He took it with both hands, put on his glasses, and studied it carefully.

After a long while, he raised his head and stared at me with squinted eyes.

"How did you get these gauntlets?" The old goblin's tone was serious.

"Is there any magic that can't be achieved?" I thought to myself. In order to reduce unnecessary trouble, I naturally wouldn't tell him that it was cut off from the guardian monster, so I said vaguely: "I got it from fighting monsters."

"No wonder. No wonder." The old goblin's tone was very clear, as if my answer was a matter of course.

"Any tricks?" I asked.

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

"Enchanted gloves!"

I seemed to have heard wrongly and was dumbfounded. It took me a long time to calm down and ask, "Is it true?"

"You can question my height, but you can't question my expertise!"

The old goblin said proudly: "Although I dare not say that I am 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 weapons shop is small and dim. Although it is cleaned frequently and is relatively clean, it does not look like a shop that an expert would open - it must be at least a hundred times larger than this shop to be justified!

She glanced at him suspiciously, picked up the gauntlet, and asked, "Why didn't I notice that this gauntlet was enchanted?"

"So you are laymen." The old goblin pointed at the fine particles all over the cast iron gauntlet and said, "Look at these particles, do you see any difference?"

When I got the gauntlet, I always thought that these particles were caused by the faster birth of the puppet. After hearing the old goblin mention it, I noticed the clue. Normal pig iron is gray, and its particles should also be gray, but When I took a closer look, I discovered that these particles were actually black.

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

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

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

"You always say I'm poor, so you're so sure I'm poor?" I asked, "What if I keep a low profile and don't reveal my wealth?"

"Impossible" the goblin boss affirmed: "The adventurer industry has always been a high-risk industry. Anyone with money will equip himself like a fortress and will never parade around in beggar's clothes."

He raised his eyelids slightly and joked: "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 being impressed.

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

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

Putting on his glasses, he continued to examine the two swords I handed over. He first pulled out the knight's sword, examined it carefully under the magic lamp for a long time, nodded, inserted the sword into the hilt, and put it aside.

Then, he picked up the dagger again, weighed it, frowned, slowly unsheathed the sword, and looked at it carefully.

After a while, he got up again.

"Where did you get this sword?"