Chess Mage of Faerûn

Chapter 5 Bald? Faerûn? Torrell?
A man with money is a hero; a man without money is nothing!
Zhang Yuan, whose family was relatively well-off, had never really worried about money thanks to his parents' financial support and his part-time jobs.

He had no bad habits and had never been extravagant, so he hadn't experienced the feeling of going hungry for a long time.

Zhang Yuan subconsciously touched his pocket and was pleasantly surprised to find that all his personal belongings had come with him into this world.

But in this bustling city center, he dared not openly take it out. Not only would an item with a style so different from the current world attract petty thieves, but it would also be very bad if it attracted those curious mages who like to get to the bottom of things.

"I need to find a place to stay," Zhang Yuan thought to himself. "Hmm? My 'birth point' seems pretty good—an abandoned hut, and the surroundings are quiet." Already feeling the curious glances from others at his "strange attire," Zhang Yuan hurried towards the hut where he had woken up.

After entering the house, he closed the broken wooden door and bolted it shut. Finally feeling a little safe, he couldn't wait to turn all his pockets inside out. After confirming that all his belongings had been taken out, he began to take stock of the little he had left in this world.

A wallet filled with scrap paper and old cards, a fully charged cell phone, a Swiss Army knife, an old, unsharpened kukri knife I bought to play with, a pen, a bunch of pretty useless keys, a bunch of euro coins, a can of alcohol disinfectant, a pack of five medical masks, and cold medicine.

This was probably the only benefit of the pandemic: it allowed the transmigrators to keep medicines readily available, Zhang Yuan thought with a bittersweet smile.

After cutting off the trademark logo from his coat with the scissors that came with his Swiss Army knife, making it less conspicuous, he set his sights on the coins. He wondered if this place used a gold, silver, or bronze coin system like in games and novels?
Even if it can't be passed off as currency, maybe it can be sold as art. Zhang started to make his own calculations.

As for the risks? The biggest risk right now is starving to death or being driven to suicide by a single penny.

Besides, countless civilizations have been born on the continent of Faerûn, and countless undiscovered ruins lie beneath the earth. A few novelties aren't particularly eye-catching. Of course, if you were to pull out a smartphone and openly play short videos, that would be a huge fuss. Having made his decision, Zhang Yuan carefully put all the odds and ends he had taken out into his pocket, pushed open the door, and headed straight for the city center.

The most urgent task is to figure out where we are, or even whether we are in Faerûn at all. If we have traveled to the wrong plane, we will be even more confused.

Arriving at the square in the city center, not far from the bakery that sells meat pies and bread, Zhang Yuan pretended to be idly strolling around and wandered over to a group of people chatting.

"Grain prices have gone up again lately. I heard it's all because of those big green bugs. Many farmers have abandoned their farms, and the fields are all lying fallow," complained a man dressed in gray cloth with an old face.

“Yes, I heard we’re doing alright here. After all, Baldur’s Gate is one of the few port cities in Sword Coast, so at least we can buy food from other places. Belgost and Nashkade are in a much worse situation.” Another young man dressed in green chimed in.

Fortunately, the system included a language proficiency feature, so Zhang Yuan could easily understand what they were talking about.

Sword Coast? Belgoth? Baldur's Gate? The other shoe finally dropped, and he was finally certain of his guess: the land beneath his feet was indeed Faerûn, and the city he was in was none other than the famous Baldur's Gate!
Since it's Baldur's Gate, will the information I gained from the game be of any use? And what stage is the current timeline at?
Suppressing the myriad thoughts in his mind, Zhang Yuan decided to do something big first—make money!
Now that the decision has been made to sell those coins, it's natural to want to find a suitable buyer to get a good price. After much thought, it seems that selling these "crafts" to either a mage or a general store owner wouldn't be very appropriate.

Zhang Yuan's brows furrowed into a knot, and it took him a while to recall a quest he had done in a game years ago, which involved dealing with a collector.

The key clue comes from an adventurer captain, who also owns the Baldur's Cloak and Helmet. Of course, we have to add the word "former," because this unfortunate adventurer party had already turned into lifelike stone statues by the time the protagonist encountered them.

The collector in the game lives right next to the square in the city center, but how could the real Baldur's Gate be such a large city that the scene in the game could possibly represent it?
The exact address is impossible to estimate, not to mention it's uncertain whether such a person even exists in reality. The problem has come full circle: how do we obtain firsthand information from this unfamiliar world?
As a homebody, Zhang Yuan is indeed not very enthusiastic about interacting with people, but as an international student who has lived in a foreign country for several years, he is not lacking in experience in dealing with strangers.

Ignoring the non-human species mixed in with the crowd, Zhang Yuan looked at these blond-haired, blue-eyed people and felt that it wasn't much different from being at Hans's house—just the same old vibe... hmmm
He quickly pulled out a mask and put it on, while simultaneously moving away from the houses. Having read amusing anecdotes about medieval European history, he was genuinely afraid that someone might suddenly empty a chamber pot from the second floor and smear it all over his face with night-blooming jasmine.

While following the crowd and pondering how to get closer to others, Zhang Yuan suddenly stopped in his tracks. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a good show.

Not far away, a young man stood by an easel with his arms outstretched, seemingly arguing about something, or perhaps trying to defend himself. His face showed the kind of aggrieved feeling of being misunderstood that is often seen in ambitious young people.

As Zhang Yuan stepped forward, he could gradually hear Zhang Yuan's argument more clearly.

"This is the newly emerging Impressionist style. I studied it specifically in Deep Water City!" The young man, gesturing excitedly, tried to promote his artistic ideas to the well-dressed but expressionless young man opposite him.

When Zhang Yuan finally got close enough to see the "impressionist masterpiece," the Bode Gate, which, while not majestic, was still quite grand, had been transformed into a children's block house in the painting.

He could only vaguely make sense of the city wall from the saw marks on the wall. To be honest, if it weren't for the words "Winter Day at Bode" right next to the signature, he wouldn't have recognized what the painting was.

While Zhang was still grumbling to himself, the well-dressed young man took out a few small, dark bronze coins and tossed them onto the side of the palette, saying impatiently, "I don't want this painting anymore. Consider these coins as a token of your appreciation for your hard work."

The painter's face turned red, and the veins on his forehead bulged as he argued, "How can art be measured by labor fees?"

Then came the difficult-to-understand language, such as "the main schools of Impressionism" and "the mainstream trends of modern art".

Zhang Yuan shook his head inwardly. He was still young and naive; his knowledge level needed improvement. A mere painter expecting customers' aesthetic standards to conform to his level? I'm speechless.

Ignoring the art student's incessant chatter, Zhang Yuan strode up to the young customer and said loudly, "Please forgive my impertinence, but would you be interested in appreciating my paintings?"

Upon hearing this, the customer who was about to leave stopped in his tracks. He stared at Zhang Yuan with his long, sharp eyes and looked at this stranger who had inexplicably come up to him with great interest. He said, "Black hair and black eyes are quite rare, and your clothes are also quite novel. However, art is not just about being strange and unusual."

Perhaps it was due to his good manners, or perhaps it was out of curiosity about a "stranger," but the gentleman still showed considerable patience towards the uninvited Mr. Zhang.

Having gotten the chance, Zhang Yuan didn't bother with any pretense and decisively pulled an item out of his pocket.

(End of this chapter)