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MillionNovel > Dungeons and Dalliances > 2.31 – Exchange

2.31 – Exchange

    2.31 – Exchange


    The awkwardness did settle eventually, Sofia regaining herposure. Natalie’s exposing of her body had left the girl briefly a disaster, but she’d pulled together. That was Sofia, much in the same way as Jordan—hard to ruffle, and even when it happened, quick to recover. Natalie herself fared poorer. Her head spun in circles. She’d seriously just shed Sofia? And why had the alwaysposed girl turned so red at it? More than made sense?


    And, she was disoriented for other reasons. All the other stuff nagging at her hadn’t disappeared. Camille, and her very-possible-knowledge of Natalie’s bathroom escapades. Then the developments with Jordan, their ‘training sessions’ that would shortly be a staple in her life. In short, Natalie’s head was a mess.


    So, continuing her tried-and-true tactic, she focused on the present. The Exchange.


    After spars, the three girls set out. Though they wouldn’t be allowed into the dungeon until the start of next week, it would be smart to get a feel for the marketce. And, as Sofia had mentioned, it was an interesting ce to visit just for curiosity’s sake. The Exchange was, objectively speaking, a fascination. A curiosity simr to the dungeon, if obviously less crucial—though still important—to society.


    Valhaur wasn’t the only country with an Exchange. Each of the thirteen dungeons had one situated nearby, and, rather than using any man-made currencies, items were bought and sold through a marketce of monster cores. Not just that, but the Exchanges were linked, somehow. Items from halfway across the world could be dissolved into the Exchange, then reformed thousands of miles away at a different one.


    Setting out from the T campus, too, was nice. Getting to see more of Aradon. She’d walked her way through a few streets on the trip from the train station, first arriving to Aradon, but she hadn’t <em>explored </em>the sprawling capital city of Valhaur. And, with the Exchange and dungeon entrance not far from T, she didn’t do much exploring now, either, heading straight there. But the colorful bustle of the city was enjoyable on its own merit, for what little of it she saw.


    Soon enough, they’d arrived. The Exchange was—as she’d expected it to be—unlike anything she’d ever seen. Four stories of marble arches and cool gray te ents, it stood out from the rest of Aradon’s architecture, the bright vibrancy that was the trademark of northern Valhaurian fashion. Run by the automatons, the Valhaurian Exchange made only marginal efforts to blend with the architecture of their human counterparts. Automatons were congenial folk—subservient by their nature—but only to an extent. In the aesthetics of the Exchange’s construction, they paid little mind to ‘fitting in’. Cool, gray, stalwart. Just like them.


    Trailing through the entrance, surrounded by a veritable stream of other bodies, Natalie gaped around at the immacte interior. While not adhering to the rest of Valhaur architecture, the building was as grand as the best of what Aradon had to offer. A decent chunk of the world economy flowed through these elegant archways and beneath these enormous domes, and the Exchange’s importance gleamed from polished tiles to delicate, three-story-tall windows.


    It was also crisply organized, the defining trait of automatons. Clearly marked signs funneled the various clientele to appropriate locations. The Exchange was—outwardly if not inwardly—organized into floors, where each sessive one catered to more and more distinguished delvers. Natalie, Jordan, and Sofia were naturally restricted to the base floor, the one intended for levels one through five, or ‘low-rankers’ in colloquial terms.


    Natalie had heard all sorts of stories about the fourth floor, intended for levels sixteen through twenty. That the Exchange even had a floor dedicated to top rankers seemed a bit silly when they were so rare. Even Aradon, where delvers congregated, the floor had to be a ghost town, considering its size and infrequency of visitors.


    She’d like to sneak in, see which of those tales were truthful, but security at the Exchange was strict. It was as much a bank as a marketce. Monster cores flowed like rivers between human and automaton hands. And beneath Natalie’s feet, mountains of those valuable, crystalline orbsid in piles, organized into racks behind enchanted, foot-thick metal vaults. Undoubtedly, there was wealth enough to make a Beaumon’s eyes water, not more than a hundred feet away.


    Natalie had never heard of someone sessfully robbing the Exchange, not in its millennia of existence. How that was possible, she hadn’t a clue. Eventually, she would’ve figured, a particrly enterprising group of top-rankers would’ve pulled it off. But no. Was it the automaton’s defenses, she wondered, or Aradon’s?


    The event went well enough. The three of them gawked around at the sights, ustoming themselves to theyout of the enormous building. Though the Exchange ran on some inscrutable, certainly magical logistical system, it was split up into sections the way most marketces were: armor, weapons, trinkets, and so on. Automatons were stubborn about their ways. Organization was a virtue they held above all others.


    And speaking of automatons—what a curiosity those were, and in such <em>numbers</em> at the Exchange. Some could be found in other ces, but nowhere in such density.


    Natalie had seen one, of course, though whether The Bestower, that strange entity in charge of doling out sses, was a true automaton was up for debate. Still, their alien physiology wasn’t aplete novelty. They were more uniform than humans, with most being strictly androgynous, of roughly simr height and build, andposed of silver metal-like skin and cobalt-blue ents.


    Friendlier, too, than The Bestower, because automatons were natural servants. Not because humanity owned them—they were creations of the Architect, a blessing given to humans to aid them, but certainly not <em>owned—</em>but because that was their natural state. They wished to serve, organize, and manage, and always with that pristine air of friendly professionalism.


    By the way the start of the trip went, Natalie almost thought they’d make it through without incident. Unfortunately, she was never so lucky. And the debacle urred in such an <em>odd</em> way. Checking out the armor and weapon sections was mundane, as far as visiting the Exchange could be called such, but reaching the essory portion of the hall, and being attended to an automaton, something strange happened.


    Automatons had some inexplicable way of finding items in the Exchange that could aid a particr delver in their adventures. Sorting through the endless archives of items stored in the system’s magical depths, they could pluck out something suited to a person’s ss, and that fit to their level and ss requirements.


    So Natalie supposed she should have known better. Asking an automaton for an essory that might help her down in the dungeon? Her? With the ss she had?


    “What is <em>that</em>?” she hissed, ncing side to side in horror, seeing if anyone was paying attention. No one was, obviously, and Natalie forcibly calmed herself. The only reason someone would look over was if she made a big deal of things. But … heavens above. The ‘essory’ the automaton had summoned.


    “A dildo,” the automaton replied. She tilted her head, intrigued. “How curious. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of these.”


    “S-Send it back. Someone’ll see.” Natalie’s face had turned red in record time. Could her ss <em>ever </em>give her a break? It was always something.


    “Very well.” With a swish of a metallic hand, the hazy image of the item disappeared. In typical fashion, it’d been summoned above the counter, brought to life through whatever magical means only automatons had ess to. “Though, the Exchange chose it for you. It believes it’s a good fit. Perhaps you should reconsider.”


    A good fit? She bet it would be, and in more than one way. But now was <em>really </em>not the time. Besides, if she really needed one, there were cheaper ces to get something like that.


    Though …


    “And what does it do, anyway? Is it … special?” Because it <em>was </em>on the Exchange—which meant dungeon loot. A dildo from the dungeon. Heavens above.


    “I can’t inspect it without having manifested its image,” the automaton said calmly. She seemed confused why Natalie was upset, though she <em>had </em>recognized the item, so Natalie didn’t get why she was clueless. Then again, this person wasn’t human, so, sure. Made sense she didn’t understand social norms, or propriety in general.


    What a mess.


    “L-Look at it quickly. Then make it go away.”


    The automaton—ever the diligent servant—did so.


    “And?” Natalie asked. She would have inspected the item herself, but she couldn’t The Exchange stopped her. Maybe the item didn’t actually manifest, only an image of it.


    “It seems its imbued with a pleasure-enhancing effect,” the woman said cheerfully.


    And, notably, she said it loud enough to make Natalie wince. She looked around again, saw she was fortunately still in the clear, then gestured, with a bit of a panicked desperation to it, for the automaton to speak quieter. “Seriously. Some discretion, <em>please</em>.”


    Though … pleasure enhancing?


    “And that’s a <em>thing</em>?” Natalie asked. “Items like those, from the dungeon?”


    “The dungeon creates all sorts of wonders.” She frowned at the spot where the ghostly image of the dildo had disappeared. “Though something that atypical, certainly less frequently.” She looked up, then tilted her head at Natalie. “I wonder, what ss do you have that the Exchange would suggest it?”


    “Doesn’t matter,” Natalie said quickly. “H-How much was it?”


    “Twenty two first-tier cores.”


    She choked. That much? “It’s not even useful in a fight!”


    “I don’t think it’s intended to be used on a monster, Miss,” the automaton replied hesitantly.


    “Obviously! I just meant—!” She cut off, realizing, in the absurdity of the situation, her volume had spiked. She’d drawn a collection of looks her way. Red faced, she forced herself to calm, then in a more level tone, said, “I meant I need practical items. Something I <em>could </em>use against monsters.”


    “The Exchange thought it was practical. Not every useful item is for fighting, specifically.” Shrugging, though, the automaton continued, “Specify a price range, and we can find something more suited to your liking.”


    The rest of the interaction continued without incident. She got much more understandable rmended items, no more sex toys. But … sheesh. That had really happened?


    And the dildo had a pleasure enhancing effect tied to it? It was a shame the item was on the general Exchange, and not T’s branch. Natalie might have considered scraping together the funds, impractical as it would be. Shortly, though, she would be barred from this marketce, limited to T’s branch only.


    But the possibility had been introduced. Getting items like that from the dungeon was something that could happen.


    Considering Natalie’s ss, and how the dungeon often fed items appropriate to a person’s ss, would she be finding some of her own toys, eventually? Naturally?


    That would be … interesting.


    And an awkward discussion with her team.
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