Seeing that most people had given up on gambling, Fu Xuan finally allowed her heart to rest. She said, "All of you should think it over carefully. I still have official duties to attend to, so I will return to the Seat of Divine Foresight."
With that, Fu Xuan turned to leave, but glanced once more at the shop's second floor.
Hopefully this reckless fellow doesn't act too impulsively and stir up trouble.
Then she quickened her pace.
Now she had to contact Jing Yuan, and perhaps even the Marshal of Xianzhou.
The crowd, however, did not disperse so quickly.
On the contrary, most stayed, though they did not enter the shop to buy trash cans—instead they lingered outside, watching from a distance.
They wanted to see what the true odds of these Curio Trash Cans were.
But another group was different. Luofu's wealthy and powerful were many, and Guinaifen's livestream had spread across the net like wildfire.
From Central Starskiff Haven to Aurum Alley, from Exalting Sanctum to Stargazer Navalia, the rich mingled among the crowd. As soon as Fu Xuan left, they lined up in droves.
"Ehehe."
Behind the small shop's counter, Sylvester, holding a teapot and crossing his legs with a quintessential old shopkeeper's demeanor, had been listening for quite a while.
Seeing the queue packed outside, he wore a satisfied smile.
The advertising effect of Fu Xuan's acknowledgment was indeed massive, even if it scared off some ordinary folk.
Sylvester didn't mind—in fact, he agreed with it. He wasn't some heartless parasite out to squeeze away their hard-earned Credits.
After all, he knew the pull rates of the trash cans.
He even strongly suspected Fu Xuan had cheated with her Third Eye. To pull two top-tier items? Even a soft pity not going astray was rare, and she got four golds? Not even beginner's protection is that generous!
"Boss! Hey, move aside! Boss, give me two trash cans!"
A customer rushed in, shoving aside those behind who wanted the first pick, then immediately scanned his Jade Abacus and paid two million Credits. He became the first official customer.
"Take your pick." Sylvester rose and gestured toward the shelves.
"Hm, this one… no no no, that one looks too plain, clearly no good. The most hidden one in the corner must be better. And that one in the very center—looks lucky. Yes, these two!"
After fussing and muttering, he picked two trash cans.
Eagerly he unlocked and lifted the lids.
Two green flashes lit up as the metal trash cans vanished, leaving behind two odd items.
One was an orange glass bottle filled with orange liquid.
The other, a paper document stamped with a large red seal reading [Interastral Peace Corporation—Jade].
"Boss, what are these?" The customer's heart sank. He could guess these weren't anything great, yet still clung to hope.
Sylvester noted his constipated-but-not-quite face. Heh, this is nothing.
Just two pulls.
Try eighty pulls for Seele's banner and only ending up with a five-star Destruction Path white-haired girl from the standard banner—now that's despair.
"The first one's well known—a [Classic SoulGlad]. Made in Penacony for a celebratory music festival, a retro replica of the original. Quite collectible. Worth about three times a normal SoulGlad."
Then he lifted the paper, and almost burst out laughing.
"This is a [Interastral Peace Corporation Labor Contract]. Signed and stamped by Manager Jade herself. If you sign as Party B, you'll be a bona fide corporate dog—fourteen system hours a day, no pay."
"F%$#!"
The customer nearly collapsed.
Two million spent, only to drink overpriced soda and sell himself into slavery?
Losing money was one thing—but paying to lose yourself? What kind of cursed luck is this?
Sylvester eyed him wickedly. "So… do you feel like signing?"
"Obviously not!" the man snapped. Being Jade's dog maybe, but the Interastral Peace Corporation's slave? Never! That was his bottom line.
"Pfft—" The customer he had shoved aside earlier doubled over with laughter. "Serves you right! Thanks for taking the hit for us!"
The first man's face darkened further.
Why was it others got the Aeon's gaze and Curios that bent time, while he pulled this garbage?
Grinding his teeth, he glared at Sylvester. "You rigged this, didn't you? Good stuff for Fu Xuan, trash for us. Lining your pockets with scams."
Sylvester stayed calm. "Careful what you say. You picked those trash cans yourself. Muttering on forever, and I didn't even complain."
He sipped his tea, utterly at ease. "Say, ever heard of Herta Space Station's Simulated Universe?"
"Yeah, so what?" the man snapped.
"Good. Makes this easy. Even the Simulated Universe hands out negative Curios sometimes. Why are you surprised by yours?"
He spread his hands. "Fate is fate, fortune comes from the heavens. Your destiny simply wasn't here. And why isn't Jade's signed labor contract valuable? It's legally binding under interstellar law. Many would kill just to collect one."
"Damn it!" The man was furious.
If it's so valuable, why don't you sign it yourself?!
"You still have eight purchases left. Want to try again? If not, let the gentleman behind you—I think he's today's lucky one."
The man glanced back. Behind him was his biggest business rival from Aurum Alley, grinning ear to ear.
Sylvester had noticed the rivalry and was baiting him.
And sure enough, the man couldn't stand it.
He could lose to anyone but not him. Seeing his rival profit hurt more than his own loss.
"Two more!"
Clenching his jaw, he picked again.
After paying, he opened the lids. One green flash—then a dazzling blue light.
Two items appeared.
One was another piece of paper.
The other, a pill.
His heart pounded at the sight of more paper. Please not another labor contract…
He glanced nervously at Sylvester, bracing himself for the worst.
"No need to panic." Sylvester picked up the paper. "Oh—a [Steamed Black Bass Recipe]. Input it into an Omni-Synthesizer, and you can cook a long-lost Xianzhou dish."
"Phew…" The man relaxed, even a little pleased. His business in Aurum Alley was running a restaurant. A lost ancient recipe? Not bad at all. Though… at a million Credits, he'd need to sell a lot of fish to break even.
The restaurateur felt both relief and despair.
"And this pill? Surely a good one, right?" His eyes shone with hope—after all, this one had glowed blue, unlike the rest. It had to be special!
"This is the [Purple Resuscitation Pill]. It can fully restore a Pathstrider at death's door back to peak condition. Used well, its value is beyond measure. At the very least, it can save a life."
"Ha…"
At last, the man exhaled in relief. Finally something worthwhile!
He now had: a soda, a labor contract, a recipe, and a pill.
Except for the recipe, the first two were worthless. The pill, though—even a dying Pathstrider could be brought back to full health. For an ordinary man like him, wasn't this practically reviving the dead?
Worth it. More than worth it.
"See? Your luck's improving. Fortune favors the bold. Want to try again? Who knows, maybe you'll even pull an Emanator's power."
Sylvester tempted him further, like a greedy devil whispering into his ear.
"I…" The restaurateur's face twisted with conflict.
He did want to keep going. He had already spent four million, yet as Sylvester said—
He felt his luck was turning. He felt he could go all-in and flip his fate.