[Current Balance: £46,709,596 6s. 5d.]
---
Alaric yawned and stretched his limbs to loosen them after his rest, the sounds of the bustling Lisbon harbor filtered down into the cabin.
Passengers disembarked as their places were taken by new faces, while the shouts of officers and the rumble of cargo being loaded filled the air. The ship had docked.
[System Currency Updated]
[Pound Sterling Converted To Real...]
[Conversion Fee: 11s. 2d.]
[-11s. 2d.]
[£46,709,595 15s. 3d. = 1,494,707,064 R]
[Current Balance: 1,494,707,064 R]
(Damn... it's finally back. And I know Portugal never really used Spanish Real as their main currency as they had the "Portuguese Real (réis in plural)", that's why I'll just converge the two and call it "Real/Reales to make it easier to write")
'I have a billion reales!?' Alaric thought as he stared at the System Interface. 'Damn... I made it.'
He headed back up the hatch onto the main deck. The air here was thick with the scents of saltwater, fish, spices, and the unfamiliar tang of the city.
Alaric leaned against the ship's railing, taking in the scene. Lisbon unfolded before him, a sight of terracotta roofs, whitewashed walls adorned with colorful tiles (azulejos), and narrow, winding streets climbing the hills.
The diversity was striking, sailors from across the world mingled with locals, merchants haggled in rapid-fire Portuguese, and the distinct clothing of Jewish and Moorish communities added threads of different cultures to the weave.
'Definitely different from home,' he mused, comparing it to the more familiar ports he knew.
Captain Oldgate, as his duties momentarily eased, approached Alaric, clapping him lightly on the shoulder.
"Quite a sight, isn't she?" Oldgate commented, his gaze sweeping over the city with familiar appreciation. "Been here more times than I can count, but Lisbon... she always has something new to show you. Truly beautiful."
"Can't argue with that," Alaric agreed, nodding slowly.
Even as they spoke, Alaric's attention snagged on a figure down on the busy quay.
A man, perhaps in his thirties, dressed in unremarkable commoner's attire, was conversing animatedly with a local merchant. Nothing seemed out of place, except for the leather bracer on his left forearm. It was subtly intricate, yet Alaric's eye caught sight of a familiar shape. A hidden blade.
'So, the Brotherhood has a presence here,' Alaric thought, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. 'Not surprising, given the city's importance.' He felt no immediate threat, just a detached observation, filing the information away.
Oldgate, however, noticed the shift in Alaric's focus, the intensity in his gaze. He followed the blonde's line of sight down to the man on the quay. A knowing smirk touched the captain's lips. "Ah... sharp eyes you've got there, lad."
Alaric turned, raising an eyebrow. "What are you talking about, Captain?"
"Don't play coy," Oldgate grunted, his voice dropping slightly. "You've got the sight, haven't you? The Vision, or whatever fancy name they call it these days."
Alaric paused, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his features before he masked it. Oldgate chuckled a low rumble in his chest. "Think an old sea dog like me sails the world blind? Assassins, Templars... their little war spills into every port sooner or later. Seen enough in my decades to recognize the players, even if I don't wear their colors."
A moment of silence passed between them, the busy sounds of the harbor filling the gap. Alaric gave a short, wry chuckle and nodded slowly. "Impressive. Most people who know that much don't stay neutral for long. I'm surprised you're still sailing freely."
"'Cause I know my place, and I stick to it," Oldgate replied firmly, shaking his head.
"My business is the sea, cargo, and coin. Theirs is... well, theirs. Sticking your nose into that fight is a quick way to find the bottom of the ocean. I prefer the deck under my feet." He gave Alaric a shrewd look.
"Advice worth remembering, maybe."
Just then, the sound of footsteps on the hatchway announced Reuben's arrival on deck. He looked around with interest.
"Finished my reading," he announced, walking over to join them at the railing. He gazed out at the city. "Think I'll stretch my legs, see a bit of Lisbon before we sail."
"Good idea," Alaric said immediately, turning from the railing. "I'll come with you."
"Alright, lads," Oldgate interjected, glancing at the sun's position. "Don't wander off too far or for too long. We catch the tide in about an hour. Be back before then, sharp."
"Understood, Captain," Alaric nodded, already moving towards the gangplank. Reuben fell into step beside him, and the two headed down into the vibrant chaos of the Lisbon quay.
---
Alaric and Reuben navigated the busy streets of Lisbon, stepping on the uneven cobblestones. Lanterns were beginning to flicker alight in doorways and windows as the sun was sun was about to go down.
As they turned a corner onto a slightly wider route lined with market stalls packing up for the day, a stout merchant with a weathered face and quick eyes spotted them.
His stall overflowed with colorful woven fabrics and pottery. Seeing the two foreigners, his face lit up with commercial hope.
He smiled towards them, gesturing enthusiastically towards his wares. "Senhores! Senhores! Olhem aqui!" he called out, his voice friendly but insistent. He held up a brightly painted ceramic jug, turning it to show off the design. "Muito bom! Preço especial para vocês!"
Alaric and Reuben stopped, looking first at the merchant and then at each other. The man continued speaking rapidly in Portuguese, pointing first to a stack of patterned blankets, then to some glazed tiles, a wide smile fixed on his face.
Reuben offered a hesitant, polite smile back, while Alaric simply watched the merchant's animated gestures. Neither understood a word. Alaric raised his hands slightly, palms outwards, in a universal gesture of incomprehension, and shook his head slightly.
Reuben tried a tentative, "Uh... English?"
The merchant paused, his smile faltering slightly as he realized the language barrier. He sighed dramatically, then tried again, this time relying purely on gestures, pointing emphatically at his goods and then rubbing his thumb and forefinger together in the sign for money, his eyebrows raised hopefully.
Alaric sighed, then opened the System Interface and pressed [Buy] in hopes of something.
'Uhh… something to communicate… I guess? Anything?' He thought as the System didn't respond. 'Damn… nothing at all?'
After a pause, all the list that's in the System disappeared and was replaced by a single item.
[Kaguya Otsutsuki's Language Adaptability - User is able to use Kaguya's ability to adapt a language quickly, so that the readers wouldn't need to search on Google. - 5,000 R]
'Good tha- wait… why the hell is it so expensive!?' Alaric thought as his eyes widened slightly. 'I mean… I have like a billion… I guess it's alright...'
'Let's just buy it, it's still very helpful…'
[- 5,000 R]
[Current Balance: 1,494,707,064R]
Alaric braced himself, closing his eyes tightly, expecting the familiar jolt or surge of energy that usually accompanied System upgrades.
A moment passed. Then another. He felt... nothing. No headache, no disorientation, just the sounds of the Lisbon street.
'Wha-? Nothing happened?' He opened his eyes, cautiously observing himself, finding no discernible change. He turned his attention back to the merchant, who was still gesturing and muttering to himself.
"Que saco! Comunicar com estrangeiros é um desafio…" the merchant sighed, shaking his head slightly as he began to turn back to his stall.
Alaric blinked. He'd understood that. Every word. "What a drag! Communicating with foreigners is a challenge…"
A slow smile spread across his face, a genuine expression of relief and delight. It worked!
"Desculpe, senhor," Alaric spoke, the Portuguese words feeling surprisingly natural on his tongue. "Estávamos apenas a admirar os seus produtos. São muito bonitos." (Excuse me, sir. We were just admiring your products. They are very beautiful.)
The merchant froze mid-turn, his eyes widening in astonishment. He spun back around, staring at Alaric as if he'd suddenly grown a second head. "Você... você fala Português?" (You... you speak Portuguese?)
"Um pouco," Alaric replied with a modest shrug, enjoying the man's surprise. "O suficiente para fazer compras, espero." (A little. Enough to shop, I hope.) He gestured towards Reuben, who was watching the exchange with wide-eyed confusion. "My friend here doesn't speak the language, but I think he likes your blankets."
Alaric turned to Reuben, switching back to English. "Go on, pick one you like. My treat."
Reuben stared at Alaric, dumbfounded. "You... how do you...? When did you learn Portuguese?"
"Does it matter?" Alaric grinned, nudging him towards the stall. "Quickly now, before I change my mind. Pick something, or you get nothing."
Startled by the sudden urgency, Reuben's eyes darted over the stall. He quickly pointed to a thick, woolen blanket woven with intricate geometric patterns in deep blues and earthy reds. "Th-that one looks nice."
Alaric nodded to the still-flabbergasted merchant. "Nós levamos duas dessas mantas, por favor," he said clearly. (We'll take two of those blankets, please.)
(This is the last time I'll do this, this is just for show. Translating is hard, I'll just italicize it.)
"How much?" Alaric asked smoothly in Portuguese, glancing briefly at the faint shimmer of the System interface only he could see.
The merchant, still looking rather stunned but recovering his business sense, puffed up slightly with pride. "Ah, these blankets! The best quality wool, sir! Very warm." He carefully took two identical blankets from the stack. "For you... eight hundred reales for the two."
While the merchant neatly folded the blankets and wrapped them separately in sturdy brown paper, Alaric turned slightly, pretending to examine a nearby ceramic pot.
Under this guise, he quickly interacted with the System, purchasing a simple leather pouch and ensuring it held the correct amount plus a little extra.
With the transaction complete in moments, he turned back, retrieving the now-filled pouch from within his coat as if it had been there all along.
[- 820 R]
[Current Balance: 1,494,706,244R]
Alaric extended the pouch towards the merchant, the weight of the coins making it sag slightly.
"Here you go," he said, offering a polite smile. "And a little extra for your patience with us."
The merchant's eyes widened again, first at the generous amount clearly visible in the pouch, then up at Alaric. He took the pouch, his tired fingers closing around the soft leather.
"Thank you, sir! Very generous!" A broad, genuine smile finally broke across his face. He bowed his head slightly. "Come back anytime!"
"Sim, sim..." Alaric smiled back as he turned to the curious Reuben. "Let's go?"
The black-haired stared at Alaric for a moment before chuckling.
"Let's..."
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