To my surprise, the lady said nothing. She took off her glasses and began rubbing them with a grey handkerchief that had been sitting in her apron. 

It wasn't until she took the glasses off that I noticed how complicated the frames were. Items in this world, as I'm sure I've said before, are exactly the same from one another. Unless they are brought to this world from the old world, making an item of any kind causes it's layout and design to be the same regardless of who makes it. 

However, her glasses had been intricate and, even for the old world, would have taken someone's breath away just by looking at them. 

"Interesting, aren't they?" she smiled, handing me the glasses to inspect. The lens seemed the same as others in this world and it was clear they were not uniquely made like the frame. The frame was made of a silvery metal. The shaping of the metal on the sides of the glasses reminded me of plant vines, had they been tangled together and lacking in leaves. The texture and pattern imprinted on each vine reminded me of snakes scales. It was impressive how detailed each vine was despite one side easily having 10 small vines wrapped around each other. 

By the time I snapped out of my thoughts as to what the glasses were, I realized I was putting them on my face. I felt like a kindergartener putting on the nerdy kids glasses because I wanted to see why he was so different. But rather than hand the glasses back, I mentally said 'to hell with it' and put the glasses all the way on. The glasses were extremely small on my face. I looked to the old lady and noticed that her head was particularly small. With her hair being so disheveled you might not have noticed, but now that I was looking for it, I noticed her head's size. 

As I went to take the glasses off, which were more hanging from my nose and barely touching my ears at this point, the granny held a finger up to stop me. She pressed her finger on the center of the glasses and a bright blue light emanated from where her finger had touched. 

I could not only feel the glasses wiggling, but I could hear the metal creak as the vines grew to better fit my head. And I'll be damned, they fit perfectly. 

"You bought a magical item so that your glasses could fit better?!" I said wide eyed. I don't know how much money you make working for the government but if you could afford to waste money on such a pair of glasses I needed to switch industries immediately. 

"Hehe," she chuckled, her demeanor shifting from serious and returned to something closer to the storyteller she had been when I first met her. "They were a gift."

I waited for her to continue her story, but she didn't. I handed the glasses back and once the exchange was over she said "I apologize for judging your companion by the rumors he has no control over. I am well aware that he has a peculiar attitude, however I was concerned you had some malcontent or hidden agenda regarding the rumors and the boy." 

She looked to the shelf I had been inspecting before she arrived and she grabbed a vial. She handed it to me and said, "It's on the house," before walking away. I looked at the vial and noticed it had an Ankh symbol on it.

"Thanks?" I replied, a little confused as to why I received an item that was probably expensive. I could pawn it for a meal or two, but pawning a gift didn't feel right to me, regardless of how the judgement in society had faded in this world. 

As I left the aisle I nearly bumped into Mary and Alex who were probably looking for me. Alex noticed the vial in my hand and said "That's not the holy water." 

I looked at him confused. I never thought it was holy water. But, looking at the vial again, I could see how people would often confuse the Ankh for a cross on first glance. 

"The 'Ankh' is a religious symbol from Egyptian mythology. For that vial, it means the bottle contains water from the Nile River... Although I'm not sure the Nile river even exists in this world. And I'm pretty sure the Egyptian Gods are confirmed to not exist with the changes happening in the world. Also the effects..." his voice trailed to a crawl as the conversation went from a physical one between the three of us to a mental one inside Alex. 

"Ahem." I coughed. "The effects were?"

Alex looked at me as if he were noticing me standing there for the first time. "Ah, well the effects are actually the opposite of Holy Water. Part of the reason I keep telling those dolts to change the symbol, or clearly label the difference. The Nile river in Egyptian mythology is associated with Osiris, who is basically king of the dead. Water from the Nile river may even strengthen undead, although I've never seen the effects myself." he scratched at his chin before continuing. 

"We may be able to use this actually. The undead go crazy for this stuff. If we use it right, it will not only attract the undead but they may even fight over it." 

"How much is it?" I asked, thinking we might have been given something valuable.

"Maybe $3?" Alex said seriously.

Half a hamburger. Here I was thinking that this sweet old lady had given me something of worth for verbally attacking my friend but instead she teased me with something that wasn't even worth pawning. 

"Really? That's it?" Mary said. She must've been able to tell from my expression that I wanted it to be more. Perhaps she even understood that I wasn't looking to buy it, but that I already had it. 

Alex shook his head.  "As I said before, this is not Holy Water. People die using this because they don't know what it's used for. Its worth is far more than $3. However, its price is at what someone might pay for it." 

"Are you able to get its worth using it?" I asked skeptically.

"Nope. You would need to find a necromancer." Alex returned casually. 

"Of course there's necromancers. Because why wouldn't there be. I was just thinking about how my nightmares needed another reason to have corpses." Mary sighed defeatedly.

Mary and I then said our goodbyes to Alex and he headed off for the night.

"We have a little extra money, how about some warm alcohol?" Mary chimed with a smile. Alcohol was, surprisingly, pretty cheap. I'd assume that the super medieval level of agriculture would make it hard to brew anything but, apparently the first floor of the tower was filled with large fields of crops. To make it even easier, the recipe for a simple beer was just wheat in a pot of water, over a nice fire.  If we never leave this world, all the good recipes will be lost forever.

There's just something not right about a beer that's easier to make than a cup of ramen. Not to mention how much I miss a nice glass of whiskey. What I'd do for an Old Fashioned.

"If we have the money, I don't see why not. Let's try the bull's place on Main Street!" I'd actually been wanting to try a bar in the new world for a while. The atmosphere was so different from bars in the old world. There was no overbearing music, and overly expensive drinks which made you expect something from your night other than a severe hangover. There was just chatter, warmth, and some soon to be friends.

The "Bull's Tavern" was down just a few blocks onto Main Street, the street with a significant amount of restaurants and eateries. Of course, the building itself was the same building as every other on this street. A large balcony hung over a small porch. Inside was a large bar that ran from wall to wall with a slight cutout to access the kitchen from the main area. The room in front of the bar had round tables sprawled out. Most bars had the tables packed together so that the tavern could fit as many people as possible. Bull's Tavern however, was focused on creating a specific atmosphere.

The tables were spaced out so that a person could comfortably enter and leave their seat without bumping into someone. There was even room for waiters and waitresses to pass between tables. Weapons, which looked mythical, but were most likely useless, were displayed on the bar shelves. Anything from huge battleaxes to small daggers were attempting to show off their colorful gems embroidered on their hilts. Some even had a white bone-like blade. The section of the bar that actually had some use, was under weapons. It was lined with cooking pots and small flames. Every few minutes, a bartender would walk over to a pot and throw in some wheat. He'd then focus his hands around the pot for a minute before pouring the contents into a pitcher.

A large sign hung where the bar met the wall. What looked like brown cardboard spanned a width and length of 6 or 7 feet. The dark red ink on the sign read :

The reason you paid an extra dollar a beer here compared to other taverns was their determination to keep a comfortable atmosphere. If you caused any incident that the staff felt made people uncomfortable, they would hand you a strike, or sometimes even directly ban a person from the establishment. Too depressing? Strike. Didn't pay your tab? Banned. Too angry while gambling? Strike. And yes, there were poker tables on the second floor for those of us who had a dollar or two to gamble with. I was not one of these people.

The Bull's Tavern.

"Table for two please," I said with a bright smile to the waitress. She was not at a clean enough level to be acceptable serving a restaurant in the older world, but she had obviously put more effort into appearing presentable than the people who ate here. And certainly more than those who served and ate at other restaurants and bars. Her hair had been dyed a lime green and was tied back by a white string. I imagine without it, her hair would've at least gone down to the middle of her back. She wore a black shirt whose color helped draw away from the fact that it probably had not been washed in a few days. A clean white apron was wrapped around her waist, which draped over the black jeans she wore. She actually looked pretty athletic, though I'd noticed most people looked athletic based on the sheer amount of physical work that we were forced to do. Her clothes, though dirty, complimented her curves quite well. I was also surprised to see that she showed no cleavage. I'm not one to judge a person using their physical gifts for some extra money, but it was almost expected that if you had any breasts, you'd let loose a little. An extra dollar or 50 cents a tab went a long way in this world.

Her thin face reminded me of an actress. She was almost intimidating though, she didn't wear makeup but still had a confidence that felt like she knew she was good looking. She smiled politely when leading us to our table and handing us our menus, but it felt like she was side tracked. Like the work she was doing now was just an inconvenient step that required an exact amount of effort to get where she was going. She wasn't rude, she wasn't overly positive. She was applying the calculated amount of effort to get the tab she wanted. I knew at the end of the night, it'd be rude to not tip, when she had smiled exactly when needed. And I knew I wasn't going to get service above that expected tip.