Passerby -- Jorgen's case file

The goblin auctioneer took off his monocle, wiped it, put it back on, and said, "Everything must follow the rules."

"But the auction deadline I set has passed, and no one bought it. Now I don't want to sell it anymore. Give it back," Khalif said.

"You have to pay the storage fee before you can take it back. That's the rule."

"You didn't mention any storage fee when I first came here."

"That was me doing you a favor, kid. I could tell right away you didn't have much money, so I made an exception and allowed you to owe the storage fee, planning to deduct it once the item was sold."

"How much is the storage fee?"

The auctioneer quoted a figure measured in gold coins.

"That's outrageous," Khalif said.

"That's the rule," the auctioneer replied. "Our storage fees are based on the value of the auctioned item. These are clearly written regulations. I have to say, the item you brought in is a truly exquisite piece of craftsmanship, and your starting price was way too low."

Bossia remained silent throughout the conversation. She hadn't even wanted to come here with Khalif in the first place. It was well-known that Gadgetzan Auction House, which could trade between the Alliance and the Horde, charged exorbitant fees, so there were always very few customers. Some even suspected the goblins were out of their minds for setting up such a low-profit auction house. However, the real reason was clear to the perceptive: they didn't want it to interfere with the goblins' control of cross-faction trade, and if the trading here became too frequent, it could involve them in political trouble.

Besides snitching, Khalif had also stolen Boussia's golden key—or, as he claimed, "found" it. At least Bossia believed that he hadn't initially "stolen" the key, but simply hadn't returned it to its owner. As for whether Caliph's snitching came first and finding the key was a bonus, or if he decided to snitch after not wanting to return the key, Bossia wasn't sure and didn't want to dwell on it.

Bossia still remembered the many stories tied to that key. It had once sparked a storm, and even today, that power had not disappeared. People could accept Boussia's fake name, her mysterious background, and her regal swordsmanship, but almost no one could remain calm upon seeing the golden key. Doubt and suspicion were inevitable, and she had even been in danger because of it. In a place like Gadgetzan, where adventurers of all races gathered, the risks were even higher. Of course, she always hid it well and never admitted to owning such an object, but mistakes were bound to happen, especially when she was with others. Hiding it, keeping it unseen—this gradually shifted from a personal responsibility to a habit.

She knew that when she left the group three years ago and boarded the ship to Menethil, it wasn't for anyone else but herself. Over the past three years, she had slowly distanced herself from the environment she had been accustomed to in the first twenty years of her life. In this world, just surviving was a challenge for everyone. The first rule of survival for an adventurer was knowing your limits and not taking on unnecessary burdens; and no matter how many memories the golden key held, it had, unfortunately, become a heavy burden. Khalif, nearly ten years younger than her, clearly understood this rule as well. He hadn't sold the key to a jeweler who deceived novices, nor had he tried to sell it through dangerous illegal channels. Instead, he placed it in an auction house where it wouldn't cause trouble. Sometimes, something could be more important than life, but in the current situation, the golden key's only significance was its negative value: it was worth a lot of money, while ordinary adventurers came and went without being worth as much.

The night before the water wagon robbery, Bossia noticed the key was missing but didn't panic. She grabbed the bag where she had placed the key and other random items, finding a small natural tear at the bottom. It wasn't possible to search extensively in front of her newly acquainted companions, and she didn't notice anything unusual in their behavior, so she pretended nothing had happened. She did want to retrieve it, but deep down, she wasn't truly anxious, like a drop of water retreating into the sea without concern for its evaporating companions on the shore. And during the month she spent imprisoned, her only real worry was how long she would survive.

"Let's go," she said to Khalif. "I know we can't get it back."

"You don't even want your own possession back?"

"Do you have another solution?"

Khalif turned to the auctioneer and said, "As long as I pay the storage fee, I can take the item back, right?"

"Of course. Everything follows the rules, no exceptions. And don't worry, we'll keep it safe until you pay. Our business reputation depends on it."

"I'll pay the storage fee," Khalif said to Bossia, his voice deliberately loud enough for the auctioneer to hear. "I'll save up."

"What are you going to save from?" Bossia asked.

"From working, of course," Khalif said. "Shakes has already agreed to hire me to guard the wells on the Shimmering Flats. He's dug several new wells. Sharll, you could work for him too. You don't have any money, do you?"

Bossia looked at him, barely concealing her surprise. It seemed that Khalif wasn't just determined to pay off the debt; he wanted to use this momentum to influence her, the victim, as if redeeming the key had become a Sharled, unavoidable responsibility. She couldn't refuse the proposal because she truly did need a job, and any refusal would violate the first rule of survival—

Don't take on unnecessary burdens!

However, there was one thing Bossia never knew: Khalif hadn't received a single copper coin from Shakes for his snitching. Shakes felt that offering a job to this little thief was already a great favor.