A Fae's Emporium 3 (Patreon)

Commissioned by InifniteChaosRei

A Fae’s Emporium

Chapter 3

-VB-

Medusa looked down at herself. 

Or rather she tried to. With a properly supported bra and a somewhat frilly but nonetheless practical maid uniform, she couldn’t see below her own breasts. 

She looked back up and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked … good. The attire that her new master chose for her was a very decent design with ankle-level skirts, form-fitting but comfortable sleeves, a white apron with rear belt pockets to keep essentials, and minimal on accessories. These were some of the finest quality clothes she’s had, though perhaps not of the finest materials. 

Before she was a gorgon, she used to be beautiful. She used to be the center of attention not just from the mortals but also from the gods and goddesses. 

Quite a few goddesses swung that way just like their counterparts, though most gods didn’t do so for some reason.

(She had a sneaking suspicion that the goddesses influenced the world in such a way that handsome men of Hellas grew to love and make love to other handsome men for their enjoyment. But that was just a theory. But once one took into account that the Goddess of Love, Aphrodite, cared not how the love came about, and she had quite the number of goddess friends who wanted to see men on men action, then the theory held up-). 

But she still couldn’t see below her own breasts because of how big they were. 

She didn’t remember them being that big… 

Medusa looked over herself once in the mirror, straightened out the wrinkles, and walked out of the changing room. 

Her new master was there, waiting for her. 

“How do I look, master?” she asked him blankly. 

Her master, a waifish half-fey, looked up from where he had been reading on the counter and looked her over once. 

“You look great, ‘dusa~!” he crooned.

She merely raised an eyebrow at his antics. 

He twisted himself in his seat, convulsing with a twisted kind of joy.

“Ahn~! To be stared at like that by a beauty! Like I’m a disgusting piece of trash that shouldn’t even be on the streets~!” 

“I did not stare at you like that.”

“-makes me hard and happy~~!” 

She sighed. 

Her new master was half-fey, so she had expected some kind of twisted nature. If it was some sort of a twisted work environment where he got off on being scolded by his lessers, then who was she to argue? 

She was getting a true second chance at life, though she would return to the Throne of Heroes upon her second death.

She would go back with wonderful memories, though.

T-rrinngg.

Master’s debaucherously twisted and drooling smile returned back to a normal soft smile of a man simply enjoying a good book with none of the drool present as if they had been whisked away. 

They probably were. And stored somewhere for later use.

As long as he didn’t pour the accumulated and fermenting drool over her head or tell her to drink it, she was not going to care. 

Instead, she looked to her left towards someone entering the building. 

It was a teenager, though she couldn’t tell from where. The attire… it must have been East Asian high schooler. 

(Her master had not been shy about forcing knowledge into her. He did things that she didn’t want to remember, and was merely thankful that he got rid of the memories. But she hated the fact that he kept an audio recording of what happened. She didn’t want to know why she, a reincarnated Servant who should be beyond human limits, was screaming in horrified pain nor did she want to be reminded of it.)

“Ohayo~!” master greeted the orange-haired teenager. “Welcome to the Fae’s Emporium!” 

The teen stopped stared at master.

And froze.

“Oh?” master smiled, and some of his half-fey essence leaked through. “You can sense that, huh?” 

The teen grimaced and got ready to run.

“Relax, kid~!” he quickly chuckled, reining in his inhuman nature. “I am a shopkeeper! I don’t go around eating children or whatnot.”

“So you … aren’t a Hollow?”

“A Hollow? No, no, no. I am not a Hollow,” he replied. “Name’s Alan. And you are…?”

“... Kurosaki Ichigo.”

“Once again, welcome to my shop, Ichigo-kun~!” he said cheerfully and his cat ears flickered. 

---

Urahara Kisuke sniffed from the other side of the town.

“... Someone’s stealing my shtick.”

---

Ichigo stared at the weird guy.

There were weird guys everywhere when someone can see the dead. At least one out of one hundred people who died died while doing something sexually freaky, and that remained with them in death. 

Freaky was just a part of being able to see ghosts.

“So…?” 

Ichigo snapped out of his thoughts. Right, he wasn’t safe yet.

He put on a casual air and looked around. “I just came in cuz I thought I saw a shop that wasn’t here before.”

“That’s true!”

“... What?”

“It wasn’t wherever you saw it before you entered, though it’ll be there for a while after you leave.”

“... How does that work?”

“See, when I got myself a glass jar of dirt that’s really good at hiding things, I also got myself a compass that points to whatever I really want!” 

… Ichigo wasn’t going to diss the guy, not when he could do some weird things himself. 

“But I didn’t need a compass to point me toward what I want. So I reversed it.”

“... Excuse me?”

“I reversed it so that people who might find something interesting in my shop would come to me,” he grinned as he put one elbow on the table. “And look at you! An orange haired Japanese high schooler who is probably not normal is in my shop.”

So the shop was some kind of a trap? 

“Well, I don’t have money.”

“We do trades as well,” the shopkeeper replied. “And I see a few things on you that I am definitely willing to trade.”

Ichigo frowned. “I only have my uniform on me.”

“Oh yes. A good Japanese high schooler uniform sells for a lot if you know the right buyer. Especially if it has been soaking in boy juice.”

Ichigo grimaced. 

“Well, I ain’t selling!” 

The shopkeeper waved his hand dismissively. “Wouldn’t get you anything you might find interesting, so I ain’t interested either. No no no. I’m interested in that white thing inside of you.”

Ichiogo quickly covered his groin and turned away from the very feminine man.

“Not that!” A pause. “But I’m sure if you were willing, there are people willing to buy that, too. No, I’m talking about the thing inside your soul, boy.”

Out of all of the things the shopkeeper uttered, those words made Ichigo put up his guard the most.

“See, you can see ghosts because of your ma and da. But not everything you inherit are good things. That white thing inside of you? It’s harmful. It’s toxic. And if you let it be… then those Hollows will look cute and cuddly compared to what you will become,” the shopkeeper grinned. 

“I… No, that’s not possible…!” 

“Oh yes… I AM YOUR FATHER-!”

Ichigo threw his bookbag at the asshole. 

-VB-

I laughed as Ichigo got his bag back. “Sorry, sorry. I just had to do it! You gave me the perfect one-liner!” I cackled, and Ichigo blushed. I wiped a tear away (and made sure to save it because a fae’s tear joyfully shed was a powerful reagent) and looked at him more seriously. “But I never lied about anything I said. That thing inside of you will cause harm. So how about a look?” I asked and reached out faster than he could stop me.

After all, he had graciously walked into my reach.

And I showed him brief glimpses into the future. Hmm. How about his Las Noches transformation?

Then I made sure to amplify all of the negative emotions he felt at the time by ten fold.

From my perspective, Ichigo went from standing in shock to collapsing to his knees. Sweat broke out profusely and he knelt on my shop floor, gasping and panting like he’d run a marathon.

“W-What was that…?” he stuttered out.

“Your White,” I hummed. “So how about it? You willing to trade it for something of … hmm … similar value?” I asked. 

He looked up at me from where he knelt. 

“W-What would I get?” he asked, gritting it out through his teeth as he pushed himself up on his trembling limbs. 

And I could taste it in the air. 

Fear! 

So delicious.

So wonderful!

It was all the better that it was fear for others, not himself. 

A selfishly selfless fear…

I loved it.

“So?”

He grimaced, breathing quickly and deeply through his nose. 

“What am I going to get?”

“Obviously a shopkeeper’s gotta make some profit on the side, you know?” I asked. “It wouldn’t be exact same value. It’ll be quite lesser, but it’ll be, in practice, similar enough that it won’t matter for you and your future endeavors, Ichigo-kun.”

“What am I going to get?”

I leaned back but I couldn’t hold back the grin. 

“Geez. Give this old man some time! It’s not like I get an interesting customer like you everyday!” That’s a lie. When I want the shop to get me an interesting customer, then I will get an interesting customer. “But it really depends on what you want, Mister Tall Strawberry. Go ahead and look around. You have the time. That won’t happen for some time.”

He glared at me but he backed off and went to look. 

I giggled before I went to the book I’d been reading. 

The original manuscript of the Divine Comedy was a very funny read to me, especially with all of the side line notes Dante left. He was very upset with pretty much everyone. 

When he came back, I laughed at him and the red gem he brought to me. 

“Go ahead!” I grinned as I picked it up and pushed it onto his chest. “For someone whose power is based on souls, there’ll be nothing quite like the Philosopher’s Stone!” 

I still won out on the trade. A few hundred thousand weak souls was nothing compared to White.

When he collapsed from the shock of having the stone absorbed into him and as the stone started to integrate into him, and more specifically, his soul, I dragged him outside and left. 

I did not want to be here when he woke up.