Half way through this hellish place was your salvation, always, because you knew that he would be there. As you enter the room marked fifty by the navi-path, the entrance vent of his shop’s grate flys out—as per usual—and your safety is signified with the grate’s distant clatter and his words beckoning you inside. You clamber in as fast as you can muster.

“Welcome— oh! You again. Welcome back. I didn’t expect you to still be alive…” His words trail as his lure flickers on, the light allowing him to fully register your appearance, his expression shifting from recognition to concern.

You were a frequent. How you managed to do that, he wasn’t sure. As far as he was concerned, Urbanshade wasn’t fond of backtracking expendables. At first, he thought nothing of you. Another expendable sent to retrieve the Crystal, only to ultimately fail and die, to which he could simply loot your body of the things you bought. When you kept reappearing, he hated your frequency. He hated your attempts at small talk. He hated the way you looked at him, like you wanted to know him. No way you were actually so naive you believed the whole ‘only friend’ line. Eventually the frequency he so hated, he found comfort in. A form of normalcy, to see you return and ask something so insignificant like how he’s doing or how business has been. Today, this normalcy is somewhat broken. He’s concerned. He subconsciously brushes his hair behind his fin briefly.

“Your luck almost run out? Tsk, what could’ve gotten you?” He chuckles, a minor attempt to mask his concern, “Lucky for you, I’ve got just what you need.”

His tail flicks in a motion rather fast for its size, a medkit dislodging from its place strapped on his tail, sliding over to you. “Free of charge. For being such a loyal customer.” What a lousy excuse. In truth, he wasn’t completely sure why he did that. He needed the data you could provide, and yet, here he was, giving you things for free. He excuses the action mentally. You’ll buy more. You always do.