Kyle stood silent, paralyzed by his indecision. The last thing he wanted was to part with his treasured figurine, but without his backpack of stuff, he really had nothing else to trade aside from the contents of his wallet or phone. Maybe the foreign currency could be interesting to the store owner, but without being able to prove its worth, the money would have no inherent value and probably be a hard sell. 

His phone was also a trump card he’d like to save for down the line; the technology behind it was clearly several decades beyond what this world might develop naturally, and while Kyle would never be able to explain its working parts, he wasn’t sure if there might be someone out there capable of reverse engineering it to make it worth anything, or where to find them. Not to mention, what such a genius like that might hope to do with such advanced technology in the first place. 

While they would only be able to help him so much, his fake dagger and pistol would also likely be more useful if he held onto them, instead of turning them into pocket money here and now. Even if just used to deter or threaten someone enough to avoid a fight instead of actually getting into or defending himself in one, that’d be worth much more than what he figured he’d get in exchange for them.

“No rush, kid. I’ll let you think about it.” The store clerk’s gray hair was balding, and he wore a long brown leather coat . He eyed Kyle wearily before putting on his eyepiece and getting back to work on the pocket watch. 

“Uh, yeah. Thanks. I’ll just, ah, look around for now.” Is everyone going to address me as ‘kid’ like this all the time?

“Mhm. Just don’t break anything.” There was a clear hint of annoyance in his gruff voice, but at least he didn’t seem openly hostile to Kyle staying. There was also no accent, so Kyle figured that the owner must be Avalonian. I wonder if Lancerans like Connor are just nicer in general?

Kyle turned to take in the rest of the room. The glass counter wrapped around the large room in a massive U-shape, displaying a number of miscellaneous items. There were a couple of simple, three-tier racks sitting at seemingly random spots on top of the counter. One rack was full of a miscellany of pocket lighters, from simple, short rectangular boxes to taller ones, cylindrical and prism types, and even one that looked like a pocket watch. Another rack with two shelves had a number of simple gloves on display, not all in pairs, while a two foot tall, spinning rack was half empty, filled by a few goggles, wire-framed glasses, and monocles. 

Locked under the glass counter on the left side of the room, Kyle saw wrist watches, pocket watches, more glasses and monocle frames, necklaces, rings, and even a few pairs of gloves reinforced with metal. These were all likely prized accessories and jewelry, especially since so many were accented in gold or silver. Kyle noticed that only some of the items had price tags, primarily the ones with more visible wear, that ranged anywhere between 1000 to 5000 Cs. Is that cents, like the vending machines earlier? Do they just not use dollars at all?

On the wall behind the counter hung some articles of clothing from a series of hooks: a long black trench coat, a cream white button jacket, and a brown leather zipper jacket. On shelves next to those were assorted steel toed and workers’ boots, simple laced shoes, and one pair of high heels. Outfitted on a mannequin next to all of them was a black and red corset and matching petticoat, with a moderately sized top hat slanted to the right on its head, with goggles resting on the hat’s rim. I definitely need to start thinking about what I’m gonna wear to blend in; this butler outfit isn’t doing me any favors at all.

Moving towards the center of the counter in the back, Kyle’s eyes lit up. Held under the glass countertop was a belt with three large pockets that would fit perfectly on the right and left of the wearer’s hip, and it came with what looked like an hourglass design on the belt buckle. A bundle of screwdrivers, wrenches, and a few hammers filled up the rest of the space around the belt. Behind this counter, on the wall and locked behind a large glass panel, were an assortment of weapons: knives and daggers, pistols, one rifle, and a shotgun. 

Kyle immediately began to examine them all. The knives didn’t appear too ornate or fancy; there was an even split between fixed and folding blades, all with either black, dark red, or wooden handles. Only a couple were serrated, and none appeared to have a blade any longer than five inches. There were two daggers on display below the knives; the shorter one lacked a handguard, and looked to have a gem at the end of the pommel. The longer dagger could very well have passed for a shortsword, and it had a peculiar handguard in the shape of a cog wheel. Kyle was sure that was for aesthetics more than anything, but he wondered just how much a design like that to guard the user’s hand might help or hinder in a real fight. 

The rifle was the longest of the weapons by a couple inches, with an example of the bullets it used resting next to it. Kyle noted how the gun looked like two popular historical weapons from Earth had been smashed together: the design of the rear mechanism above the trigger, as best as he could tell, was similar to a Luger pistol from World War II Germany, with the toggle arm pulled back and revealing the empty chamber where the bullets were likely loaded and then fired from. That method of loading seemed a bit odd to Kyle, if it didn’t come with any clips to feed in ammunition for quicker loading. As for the stock and barrel, they were reminiscent of an M1 Garand, a staple of American World War II weapons, and Kyle couldn’t help but think that gun nuts back on Earth would lose their minds seeing such an absurd mix of history on display and for sale like this.

The shotgun, likewise, was also similar to the kinds Kyle saw hunters carry in video games and films. Two barrels sat right next to each other, with a simple bead sight resting directly in between them, and while the barrels were slightly shorter than the rifle, they were also noticeably wider. Normally, that would be all, but this shotgun also had a second pair of barrels under the first two, bringing the weapon’s firing capacity to a grand total of four. What’s more, the sample ammunition sitting next to it consisted of a red, yellow, blue, and black shell casings, all identical to the kinds Kyle knew were so heavily used back on Earth. He knew there were a variety of ammo types that got used for different tasks, but he wondered just how much each shell differed in function. I can’t imagine the kick-back if you fired all four barrels at once…

Finally, Kyle looked to the pistols. There were a mix of revolvers and semi-automatic handguns, and they were grouped together in the top and bottom quadrants of the right side, opposite the blades and larger firearms and facing towards the right. The seven revolvers on top looked very much like the kind seen in Western films: rotating cylinders with room six rounds, a lever or rod under the barrel to extract bullet casings after they had been fired, and notably sized hammers for ease of thumbing. There was one revolver that had a coil running along the barrel, for what purpose Kyle could not determine, and the bottommost revolver appeared larger than the rest: he counted room for eight bullets in the cylinder, but it otherwise appeared to function the same.

The semi-automatic pistols numbered five, all with their magazines on display next to them. There were six if you counted the one handgun that Kyle couldn’t determine which group it belonged with. This one had what looked like a flat cylinder instead of a round one, like all the other revolvers, and next to it sat a magazine, just like the rest of the semi-automatics. I wonder how many of these designs are completely unique to this world? Or is this a case of monkeys and typewriters, coming up with the same technology?

Walking over to the last of the counterspace on the right of the room, near where the shop owner was still working on the pocket watch, Kyle found an assortment of vases, plates, cups, mugs, and bowls. They were separated based on ceramic, metallic, or glass, and there looked to only be a few complete sets. The ceramic items had a reflective shine from their well kept glaze, while the metallic ones glimmered in gold and silver patterns and emblems, their designs a mix of creatures, swirls, machine cogs, and miscellaneous shapes. A few sets of utensils were lined next to them, but nothing to extraordinarily fancy.

Behind the shop owner and extending to Kyle’s right were two racks lining the upper half of the wall, holding a variety of instruments. Some of them appeared to be familiar, or even straight from earth. In particular the stringed instruments: a few guitars, two violins, and a cello. Of course, they differed starkly in that they had small pipes or tubes running around them, and had a number of switches and exposed gears that Kyle couldn’t see the need for. The strings looked normal, but not all of their bodies looked to be made out of wood; a few looked like copper or even gold, and Kyle wondered how they sounded in comparison to the styles of stringed instruments he was familiar with.

The lower rack held a few wind instruments: a trumpet with an exceptionally long mouthpiece and taller than normal valves, something he could only describe as a vertically sliding trombone, a saxophone with loops in the neck and the bow, a multitude of harmonicas of all sizes, and finally–

Is that an Ocarina made out of copper?! I can really feel the Steampunk vibe going on here. Man, this place really has all manner of nicknacks and staples, huh?

Kyle paused for a moment, realizing that wasn’t quite right. Jewelry, accessories, clothes, tools, weapons, china, cutlery, and instruments; this shop indeed had quite a variety, but it was missing a few things. Unique things Kyle had: the remaining one hundred and forty nine dollars and forty-five cents of his graduation money that was likely worthless here, and a well designed, crafted, and painted figurine the likes of which nobody in this world would ever have seen before. Probably. And if that’s the case… Man, I really don’t want to sell the maid twins but… what else is there to do?

Just then, Kyle finally noticed the last and most unique display in the shop, hiding in the back right corner: a foot-by-foot glass cabinet reaching from the floor all the way up to the ceiling, with a shelf set at about every two feet. It housed a collection of what appeared at a glance to be just colorful rocks and gems, but then he read the sign attached to the side of the cabinet: “All Wonder Stones have been vetted by a reputable appraiser. See store owner for details.” Below that was another two signs: “Credit not accepted. No refunds or exchanges; all sales final!” and “Anyone caught conning or lying will be removed from the premises without prejudice.”

Well, figures a pawn shop would have no take backs and not tolerate any cons. But what the heck are Wonder Stones? Don’t tell me it’s this world’s take on shungite rocks… 

The older gentleman seemed too invested in the pocket watch in his hands to look up as his potential customer inched closer. Kyle glanced around the room one more time, not wanting to disturb or surprise the man by accident and ruin his focus, potentially damaging the pocket watch. He took another step closer, and getting ready to fake cough–

“Did you decide what you’re gonna do yet, son? It’s a quarter till seventeen, I don’t got all day.”

Kyle blinked in surprise, but nodded. He took a deep breath and swallowed, resolving himself. Sorry girls, I’ve got no choice.