—A Staggering One Hundred Billion—
In under a minute, three figures entered through the door: two beautiful women with their heads bowed low, and an elderly man of about sixty, his steel-grey hair swept back and tied with a dark ribbon. He wore a long, somber coat and leaned on a wooden cane.
The old man's eyes found us the moment he stepped inside. In thick, local dialect, he addressed Caleb with familiar ease. "Master Lin, you have guests! The energy in here is strong — perfect for improving my luck. I've been on a terrible losing streak." He made as if to amble toward us, causing Jasper and Victor to shrink back instinctively.
"Thomas, mind your manners. These are my friends," Caleb interjected swiftly.
"Only joking," Thomas said, waving a dismissive hand, his earlier bravado fading into a sheepish grin. "Those scoundrels cleaned me out again... I'm here to exchange for more funds."
Caleb's gaze fell on the cane in Thomas's hand. "Exchange with what? You pawned your walking stick to me last time. As far as I know, you have nothing left."
"Them," Thomas said, jerking a thumb toward the silent women behind him.
"You know my rule: I trade for burial goods, not 'people.'"
Thomas leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Master Lin, have a heart... They can do anything you ask. You can give me a little less, I don't mind..."
"No." Caleb's tone was final.
Thomas's shoulders slumped in defeat. "I've traded everything I can. Only they remain..."
"There is one thing you could still sell," Caleb said abruptly, his glance flickering almost imperceptibly toward me.
"What?!" Thomas's eyes widened sharply.
"Your thirty-six 'house pillars.' I'll give you enough for two months." — The Coffin Nails were what they called house pillars.
For a moment, Thomas simply stared, his expression darkening as if in anger. My hand slipped quietly into my pocket, fingers closing around the Lumin & Umbra Sigil.
But then, his face transformed. He held up two fingers, excitement bursting through. "Two months?! This thing is that valuable? Why didn't you say so sooner!" He broke into a wide, delighted smile. "Anyway, I'll be reincarnated soon — they're useless to me now! I'll go fetch them straight away!" Humming a tuneless melody, he turned and shuffled out, the two women gliding soundlessly in his wake.
The three of us exchanged stunned looks. This was my first time witnessing a transaction with the dead firsthand.
I clasped my hands together in a respectful salute toward Caleb. "Master Lin, thank you."
He waved it off. "Those items have no fixed market or price. It's merely a coincidence that you need them, and he has reached his end. Consider it a fortunate alignment."
"May I ask... how much for thirty-six Coffin Nails?" Victor's voice still carried a slight tremble.
"Not much. Given that old ghost's spending habits... about a hundred billion."
"A hundred billion?!" Victor nearly leapt from his seat.
"Ah, apologies," Caleb said, a chuckle softening his features. "I forgot you deal in dollars. I was quoting the currency of the Netherworld. In your terms... less than ten thousand."
We collectively released a breath we hadn't realized we were holding.
"I hope he didn't frighten you," Caleb said, his eyes scanning our faces. "Thomas has a fondness for ill-timed jokes."
We shook our heads in unison, though the chill of the encounter hadn't fully left our bones.
---
—The Netherworld Merchant—
"It's just... we've never met a merchant like you before," I said, keeping my voice steady.
"There's unlikely to be more than one in any given city,"
he replied, preparing three cups of coffee for us before pouring tea for himself.
"It's been years since the living have stepped inside. Most wouldn't dare, and for those who would, it's often unwise to let them stay. If not for your... unique status, I couldn't have allowed you to remain."
"How long have you been in this line of work?"
Caleb was silent for a moment before speaking slowly.
"Many years. My family were tomb raiders for generations. Our ancestors served as 'Imperial Excavators' — officials tasked with procuring treasures from the graves. You could say I followed the family trade."
He took a sip of tea.
"Times changed. Policies shifted. I served a prison sentence for a... professional miscalculation.
After my release, I felt lost, adrift in a world that had moved on without me. Then, my grandfather came to me in a dream.
He told me to open a shop for the Netherworld. Said he'd already spread word down below — many souls were poor, with no descendants to make offerings. They would bring their possessions to exchange for spirit currency. So, I opened this establishment. I trade with the dead."
"It sounds like a legend," he said, setting his cup down. "But it is all true."
"Dealing with... *them* all the time... Aren't you afraid?" Jasper blurted out.
"I was, at first. Fear of ghosts is innate. But I learned they mean me no harm. They're not so different from the living, really. In time, the fear faded."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Frankly, the items they bring are often finer than anything I ever found raiding tombs. And there's no risk of arrest. It's an advantageous arrangement."
"Could anyone open a shop like this?" Jasper asked, his tone eager.
I answered before Caleb could.
"Of course not. Master Lin's ancestors were Imperial Excavators. They command respect in the realms below. The ghosts abide by the rules out of deference to that lineage. You have no such standing down there. Why would they grant you any courtesy?"
Jasper fell silent. I turned my attention back to Caleb. "Master Lin, have you ever married?"
The question seemed to catch him off guard. After a pause, he gave a wry laugh.
"Who would want to share a life — and a home — with someone who hosts ghosts nightly?" He shook his head.
"But witnessing the customs of another world has its own rewards.
Take Thomas. In life, he was a mighty minister, a man who shook kingdoms. He was due for reincarnation long ago, but he grew fond of the indulgences of the afterlife and refused. Now, with his lineage extinct and no more offerings, he survives by selling his burial goods... He has two months left until his next chance for rebirth. That's why he's finally willing to part with his Coffin Nails."
Perhaps because he so seldom had living company, Caleb shared more tales of his spectral clientele.
At two in the morning, Thomas returned, just as before, the two women trailing him. He tossed a cloth bundle onto the counter. "Master Lin! As agreed — two months' worth!"
Caleb took the bundle and passed it to me. I counted the contents. "Thirty-six nails. Freshly drawn. Good."
"How much?" Thomas pressed, quivering with anticipation.
"One hundred billion. Plus five hundred gold ingots."
"So much!" Thomas cried, a mix of delight and profound regret coloring his voice. "If I had known their worth... Ah! A hundred billion will keep me in comfort for months, and the gold can grease a few underworld palms..."
"Remember," Caleb said, his tone now that of a concerned friend, "you must accept reincarnation in two months. Refuse again, and you'll face two centuries of destitution."
Thomas nodded fervently. "Yes, yes, I know, I know." Slinging his arms around the shoulders of the two women, he hummed his way out into the night.
The moment the door closed, Jasper couldn't contain himself. "Master Lin, those women were so beautiful. Why did you refuse them?"
Caleb looked at him with utter incredulity. "You truly believe they were ghosts?"
"Weren't they?"
"They were burial paper figures," I answered.
"P-paper figures?!" Jasper's jaw went slack.
After the brief ripple of laughter subsided, Caleb's eyes met mine. "Mr. Arcturus, let us consider this fate. I'll give these to you at cost — ten thousand. Consider it a gesture of friendship."
I nodded to Victor, who produced and handed over a pre-written check. "Master Lin, this is for two hundred thousand."
Caleb frowned at the check, then looked at me. "Mr. Arcturus, this isn't appropriate. I wish to be your friend. Accepting so much would mean you do not value the friendship."
"You have helped us immensely. Please, you must accept this. Otherwise, it would be you declining our friendship."
He was momentarily speechless, having been outmaneuvered by his own logic. Finally, a smile broke through. "Very well." He accepted the check. "Then... you are welcome here anytime."
"We will return. Farewell." I saluted him once more with clasped hands.