"This," I said, tearing the bag open with a flourish. The smell of artificial cheese and MSG exploded into the room. "Is a Divine Vitality Extract. Very rare. Very dangerous."
I smirked and reached in and pulled out a single, jagged, neon-orange Cheeto. I held it out to him. "Just one, Rufus. Your mortal frame might not be able to handle more."
The dwarf took it with trembling fingers. He sniffed it. He licked a tiny bit of the orange dust. His eyes widened. Then, he popped the whole thing into his mouth.
Crunch. For a second, nothing happened. Then, the world went crazy. Literal, blinding white light began to pour out of Rufus's nose. Then his ears. Then his mouth. It was like he'd swallowed a miniature sun. His dwarf-mana, which was usually a steady gold, turned a violent, vibrating green.
"MY BLOOD IS FIRE!" Rufus roared, his voice booming like a mountain collapsing. "THE KNOWLEDGE! THE SPEED! I CAN SEE THE MOLECULES IN THE IRON! I CAN FORGE A HUNDRED BLADES BEFORE THE SUN SETS! I FEEL NO FATIGUE! I AM... I AM A GOD OF THE ANVIL!"
He started pacing the room like a caged tiger, his eyes glowing like lanterns. "One bite! One tiny bite of this 'Divine Vitality Extract' and my mana capacity has doubled! The efficiency! The spice! Arthur, you didn't bring a tool... you brought the fuel of the heavens!"
I looked down at my own orange-stained thumb. I'd eaten three of them while he was screaming. I felt... nothing. No light out of my nose. No mana boost. Just a slight burning sensation in my stomach and the familiar craving for a glass of milk.
Wait, I thought, stunned. This junk food is literal mana-steroids for them?
"Arthur," Rufus grabbed my tunic, his face inches from mine, his breath smelling like spicy cheese. "Name your price. The Smithy. The gold. My firstborn. Just tell me you can get more of the Divine Vitality Extract."
I smirked, looking at the 80 VP remaining in my account. I was a scrawny kid from New York who couldn't use a sword, but I just realized I was the only dealer of the most powerful drug in the kingdom.
"Well, Rufus," I said, wiping my orange fingers on my tunic. "I think we're going to need a bigger back-room."
By the time Elsa's eyes flickered open, I was halfway through a lunch that would have cost a commoner's yearly salary. Rufus had pulled out all the stops: succulent grilled meat seasoned with rare mountain herbs, buttery sweet corn, a velvety cream soup, and a bottle of wine so fancy the glass looked like it was spun from moonlight.
I sat there, legs crossed, chewing on a piece of prime steak while the "Divine Vitality Extract"—a half-empty bag of Cheetos—sat regally on a velvet cushion next to my plate.
"So," I said, swirling my wine like a true aristocrat, "finally back with us, are we? You missed the part where Rufus tried to marry his hammer."
Elsa blinked, her rainbow hair looking a bit frayed at the edges. She looked at me, then at the orange bag, then at Rufus, who was currently scribbling on magical scrolls with a speed that shouldn't be physically possible for a dwarf.
"Arthur..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "That... that orange shard. I felt the world tilt. Is it true? Did it truly...?"
"Boosted his mana by two levels and gave him the energy of a caffeinated squirrel? Yeah," I said, popping a grape into my mouth. "Standard stuff where I'm from."
While Elsa was having an existential crisis, the shop was in an absolute frenzy. Rufus had sent out his "priority" magical scrolls—the kind only the top 1% of the kingdom receive—and the responses were flooding back in. Glowing birds and miniature whirlwinds of paper were flying through the window every thirty seconds.
Then came the boss. Mistress Helga had practically kicked the door down two hours ago, demandingly to know why her star clerk and her best assistant were locked in a back room with a mad dwarf. Rufus had pulled her aside, whispered three words, and gave her a single, solitary Cheeto.
The result? Helga didn't just brighten; she turned into a human lighthouse. Light poured from her eyes and her... well, let's just say her "merchant assets" glowed with a divine radiance that nearly blinded me. Then, she fainted. Her body literally couldn't handle the "cheese" factor.
When she woke up, she wasn't my boss anymore. She was my biggest fan.
"Arthur, darling, my brilliant, divine boy!" Helga cried, wiping happy tears from her red-painted lips. "A business partner! That's what you are! We shall conquer the continent! We shall buy the Queen's crown for a snack!"
We sat down for a "Board Meeting"—me, the dwarf, and the merchant.
"One piece," Helga suggested, her eyes glinting with greed. "One gold coin per shard."
"Are you insane, woman?" Rufus roared, slamming his fist on the table. "This isn't bread! It's condensed divinity! Five gold. Per piece. And even then, we're robbing ourselves!"
I just sat back and let them argue. My New York soul was singing. "Fine," I interrupted, leaning forward with a sassy smirk. "Five gold per Cheeto. I get 50%. You two split the remaining 50% for handling the nobles, the security, and the logistics. Deal?"
They agreed so fast I thought they'd give themselves whiplash.
By the afternoon, the operation was in full swing at Helga's Weapon Shop. Helga had brought in dozens of tiny, silk-lined pouches embroidered with gold thread. It was Elsa's and Helga's job to transfer the "Relics" from the bag to the pouches.
I watched them, leaning against the wall with my arms crossed. It was the funniest thing I'd ever seen. Elsa was using silver tongs, her hands shaking so violently you'd think she was handling live plutonium.
"Careful, Elsa," I teased. "It's just a snack. It won't bite back unless you get the Flamin' Hot ones."
"It is five gold, Arthur!" she hissed, her emerald eyes wide with terror as she placed a single jagged orange curl into a silk bag. "This one piece could buy a small farm! It is more valuable than my life!"
"Don't be so dramatic," I said, though inwardly I was doing a victory dance.
The scene outside the shop was even better. Within hours, the street was blocked by carriage after carriage. These weren't just merchant wagons; these were gold-trimmed, enchanted carriages belonging to the highest nobility and the most powerful mercenary captains in the city. Knights in gleaming plate armor were literally lining up, hands on their sword hilts, just for a chance to buy a "Divine Vitality Pouch."
I made sure Rufus and Helga kept my name out of it. To the world, this was a "Secret Alchemical Breakthrough" from an ancient source. I was just the quiet boy in the background, sipping wine and watching the gold pile up.
As I looked at the line of thirsty nobles outside, I tapped my phone in my pocket. 20 VP for a bag... fifty pieces in a bag... 112.5 gold total... "Venus," I whispered, a dark, delighted grin on my face. "I think I'm going to like being a 'Genius' in this world."