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- Heh, you too, take care, - said once, having spent more than half of what he earned in 20 years, carefully and solemnly placing the blade in his inventory, and almost as solemnly and carefully the painting, and nodding goodbye to the friendly saleswoman, upon exiting the street, Gen is only now trying to remember if he has any blacksmiths at his base?... (unlikely, but who knows?).
Thinking about this, he moves his body to the craftsmen.
The head of the craftsmen was not present at the moment, so Gen had to deal with some nameless and faceless character.
- Hello, what do you need, what kind of help?