The Extra Wants Control

Chapter 6 - 6: Money, Money, Money, Money....

Anyway if this truly is Silvencrest, the Silvencrest from the novel... maybe things won't be so bad.

" Wait... What novel? Why do I feel like I'm behind my own mind?" Thought Neveah.

I gotta

A wave of satisfaction washed over me as I surveyed the clean floor and the few remaining possessions – the bare necessities. A quick shower (with the precious water I hoarded) and a bit of self-grooming completed the transformation.

Now, with an empty stomach rumbling in protest, I settled on the floor with a grimace. All I could find for sustenance were some dried fruits that looked like they'd seen better days, but beggars couldn't be choosers. As I gnawed on the leathery fig, my mind turned to a more pressing concern – funds. At least the two years of scrounging as a familiar cleaner had yielded some results.

I patted the pouch hidden against my chest – a meager sum of 3200 bronze coins, translating to a measly 32 silver coins.

Now, here's where things got interesting. In the novel, Silvencrest, offered a tantalising possibility. Apparently, the hero (Azrael, of course) had stumbled upon a bandit hideout overflowing with gold after a particularly nasty dragon fight. The noble oaf then proceeded to donate the entire haul to the needy of Silvencrest, channeling it through the local church.

The priest, however, was a closet hedonist with a taste for the finer things in life. No telling if that money ever reached the intended recipients.

A sly grin spread across my beak. Let's face it, I was about as needy as anyone could get right now. Besides, from a certain perspective, I was simply reclaiming what was rightfully mine (Azrael's, technically, but details, details).

But there was a snag. The author of the novel, bless his clueless soul, hadn't bothered to mention the exact location of the bandit hideout. "Outside the walls of Silvencrest," he'd written, probably thinking no reader would ever be foolish enough to get isekai'd into this crazy world. Silvencrest's role in the story was to highlight religious hypocrisy, not provide treasure maps.

Well, useless author be damned. His memories did offer some clues.But for me, it was a potential gold mine. Literally. A chance to jumpstart my path to in this world. My memories provided some crumbs – a fight with a dragon near Silvencrest, the bandits targeting merchants, the loot hidden "outside the walls." Logical deduction time.

The hideout had to be in a forest, close enough to the usual trade routes for easy pickings, but hidden enough to avoid unwanted attention. Perfect ambush territory. Cause the hero fought the dragon by throwing trees to by time for his ultimate attack– so the hideout had to be in a forest.

Theory was all well and good, but it wouldn't put a single gold coin in my pouch. Fieldwork was necessary. An expedition to the outskirts of Silvencrest, a treasure hunt of sorts. But first, preparations. I wouldn't be waltzing into bandit territory unarmed. A decent weapon was a must, something sturdy and easy to handle.

Maybe a good hunting knife or a sturdy club. Food and water were no-brainers, and a bedroll wouldn't hurt for a night under the stars. This little room, with its bare floor and single, dusty window, might see its last of me. A greedy glint flickered in my eyes. This scavenger hunt wasn't just about survival anymore; it was about striking it rich. Time to trade rags for riches.

Okay... let the treasure hunting begin!