Chapter 55 - Chapter 57

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 57

Chapter Title: Business

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"Where are we headed this time?"

Shin Seo-yeon asked as we stepped out after lunch. Staring off into space, I murmured softly.

"Thinking of sorting out some items."

With most of my saved points spent, if I wanted dinner, it was time to put in some legwork.

"Oh, straight to the shop then?"

"Nah."

"Huh?"

As we exited the restaurant, the full street scene burst into view.

It was 2 p.m., the sun still blazing high, so the streets buzzed with people milling about.

As I took it all in, passersby spotted us and began whispering.

"Look over there."

"That's them from yesterday."

The murmurs spread fast—every passerby started stealing glances our way.

"I saw them fighting yesterday. Insane skills."

"Heard Yi Jong-cheol's party got wrecked and bolted without a peep."

"For real?"

The rumors from yesterday had spread across the entire rest area. In a way, it was a relief—no one would dare mess with whatever we did from here on out.

"Min-jun, heading back to the dorms then?"

"Nope."

"Then where?"

I stood at the dorm entrance, opening my inventory as I spoke.

"From now on, I'm doing business."

"Pardon?"

The women blinked at my sudden declaration, eyes wide.

"Business?"

There are plenty of ways to make money during the selection process.

The most common? Farm items from trial zones and unload them in the rest area.

There are multiple ways to offload them, but the best is refurbishing your farmed gear and selling it high to others. Yeah, that's the play.

No need to refurbish these.

I'd already used Fresh Core before heading out, so every piece gleamed like brand new.

Prep was perfect—just had to hawk 'em now.

But Shin Seo-yeon looked skeptical.

"I get the idea, but you think this'll sell here? Street vending ain't easy, especially when everyone's broke. Don't waste time—just dump it at the shop."

Han So-hee chimed in cautiously next.

"Selling's fine. But if you're doing it, why not hit a proper market street?"

She had a point. Unlike the first rest area, this place had a strip lined with weapon and armor shops where vendors clustered in small groups, hawking wares.

Folks gearing up for the next trial always headed there—easy foot traffic, built-in advertising.

But I shook my head.

"You've got items too. You wanna risk hauling that stuff around for hours?"

"Well..."

"This spot's the safest and best. So quit standing around—head back to the dorms, grab two or three items each, and come out."

They scratched their cheeks awkwardly but nodded and ducked into the dorms. Even in weird situations, they followed my lead.

Good. While they do that, I'll set up.

"Serah. Help me out."

"Yup!"

With the idle little grim reaper, I spread out a wide mat. Then I laid out weapons from the skeletons, one of each type.

Street vending's no cakewalk, like Seo-yeon said.

Who buys roadside junk?

They'd rather hit a proper shop for shiny new gear.

But what if roadside weapons sparkled like fresh from the forge? Radiant glow, edges honed razor-sharp?

"What's that guy selling?"

"Where?"

Passersby started taking notice, one by one.

"Hey, isn't that one from yesterday's crew?"

Thanks to Shin Seo-yeon's rampage, I got unintended free promo. Like a celeb showed up—crowds gathered, curious.

Humans crave proximity to the strong. Instinct.

They swarmed for a close look at me, eyes landing on my wares.

Then their eyes bulged.

"Options...?"

"Look at this! Says it adds dark attribute damage!"

"Weapons have that kinda thing?"

Shocked, they rushed in, swarming the gear.

"Jackpot."

"Grade's High?"

"How much better than Common?"

Interest exploded. The buzz drew more from the street.

"What's the commotion?"

"Wha...? This?!"

Curious newcomers gawked in shock.

People called people, crowds swelled—instant mob, latecomers couldn't even see.

Still, more poured in.

"Hey, you selling this stuff?"

As numbers grew, someone wary demanded confirmation. I nodded.

"Selling!"

"How much? Name a price!"

First customer hooked. Time for pricing.

I recalled shop prices.

First rest area weapons: 50 points.

This one: 100 points.

Price higher than first, lower than here. Feels fair.

Two shops selling same? Cheaper wins, hands down.

But no fire sale—aim higher than shop buyback.

Max profit at a sweet spot for buyers.

Checked the weapon shop earlier—these'd fetch about 55 points each there.

Ridiculous, really.

High-grade outperforming 100-point stuff—for 55.

Shops slash over half value. System's rigged.

So farm, try players first—dump unsold at shop. Maximizes gains.

"So, how much?"

How to max my take?

After mulling, I faced the crowd.

"90 points each."

"90? Any weapon?"

"Yep."

Chaos erupted.

"This sword? I paid 100 at the shop for a basic one! Better gear for 90?"

"And brand spanking new!"

They started shoving, scrapping over items.

"Mine!"

"Bull—gimme!"

"Sell to me!"

"No, me! I'll pay extra!"

Begging, yelling—some drew weapons.

Great for sales, bad if blades fly. I intervened fast.

"Calm down, everyone. Plenty of stock—no need to fight."

"That's not all?"

"Enough for everyone here."

990 high-grade from skeletons. Worry was selling all.

"Line up single file, pick one by one. Sheathe that weapon."

They queued quick, buying eagerly.

Buyers hugged gear, beaming.

"Amazing! Options like this exist? How'd I miss it?"

They couldn't know.

First trial, only Lair of Evil Spirits dropped high-grade besides boss—survival under 1%.

Survivors too busy surviving, no real farming. Most holed up with trauma.

No time for high-grade drops.

"I'll take this!"

"This one for me!"

Items flew off the mat.

Line didn't shrink—grew.

Street packed solid. Unheard of, even in my first run—like an Earth pop-up sale line.

"Whoa, what's going on?"

My crew emerged from dorms, arms full, jaws dropped at the scene.

"Dickhead, what the hell'd you do? This your power too?"

"Truly impressive. Business savvy like this... befits the man I acknowledged."

They gawked. I waved it off, beckoning.

"Enough awe. Gonna sell those? Hand 'em over."

I took their stuff, laid it out.

Mine mostly weapons; theirs gems, clothes—few weapons.

"How much for these? The robes."

Mages and priestesses, bored sans weapons, perked up.

I pointed to high-grade priest robes.

"30 points each."

"That cheap?"

Lightweight but bulky. Why I skipped clothes first trial, crammed weapons.

They'd lamented shop prices later...

"Selling like hotcakes!"

"Didn't expect this."

"Gone in seconds."

Girls lit up seeing points roll in.

Stock depleted, they dashed back for more.

To yawning Ise-ra beside me:

"Don't feel left out. I'll hook you up special."

She replied:

"It's fine! Oppa money's my money anyway."

"Huh? What?"

"'Cause you're marrying me."

"..."

Scarier logic than Seo-yeon's, somehow.

I handled customers as streets choked with buyers.

Business boomed.

Buyers drew more—street vending hit jackpot.

Points ballooned wildly. Raking it in.

Not just me benefiting?

"Debated shop buys for days—then snag gear like this. Thanks to you."

"Grateful, kid. Top-shelf stuff."

"Sell more! You're blessed!"

Everyone thrilled. Better than shop, cheaper? Duh.

Brand new to boot.

They left beaming, clutching like fresh unboxings.

"No wonder they seemed so strong."

Some figured gear made us beasts. Half-true—I just smiled.

Not always smooth sailing, though.

"Hey, I want this."

A middle-aged guy barged right up.

"Buddy, what're you doing?!"

"Line!"

Back-of-liners yelled; he ignored, grabbing a two-hander.

"Got 80 points now. Rest later—put it on tab."

"..."

Brazen demand, one-sided.

He popped trade window—then it vanished as he screamed.

Thwack.

"Gah!"

Clutching his skull, bewildered, scanning around. But the beatdown kicked off.

"Ow! Ow! What the—? Who?!"

Ise-ra in stealth, schooling him.

Full swings. No blood—her tool? Anal beads.

Thwack-thwack-thwack.

No gore even flat-out, but hurts.

"Ow! Stop!"

Like Jack vs. Spoon Killer, he staggered up and fled.

Ise-ra tailed relentlessly, whaling on his noggin.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

"Yaaagh!"

Beaten bloody—well, not—stumbled into the line.

"Help me out!"

Waiting? Line's wrath for his cut.

Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!

"Urk."

They pummeled him one by one.

Pushed to the back, eating blows till he crumpled, twitching, down for the count.

No more cutters after.

Grim reaper moves—ushering to death. Comically so.

"Only 50 points—any leeway?"

Bargainers popped up.

Inevitable.

"Bought from shop already..."

Many had—200 reward left 100 after gear, minus food? Tough for 90 more.

"Sorry."

"Ah..."

Most couldn't swing it—but if they could, they did.

"Min-jun, what's Common High Epic diff?"

"High gets options, Epic two, Mythic three."

"Aha."

"Rough guide—not strict. Varies by trial; early Mythic vs. late? Numbers worlds apart despite count."

Farm gear steady.

"Next."

Answered Saintess, refocused. More hagglers.

"Trade low-end for shortfall?"

Shop commons offered, eating loss.

"Handsome oppa, body for the rest? I'll make it worth it."

Some bartered flesh.

I'd glance back at my girls.

They zipped lips.

Shin Seo-yeon, Song Ha-na, Han So-hee, Ise-ra.

Stunners all. Made up, varied vibes and curves.

Hookers half-naked, flaunting? Outclassed.

"Just pay. You're loaded."

"Haha, yeah."

Most paid up anyway.

Hookers thrive, as said—sell body here for cash, there for spots in good parties. Tiny edges ensure survival.

"Next."

And the finale oddballs.

"Trade this?"

"..."

Biggest hauls, VIPs. I took his item.

Stat shard traders for weapons.

Smart—and creepy. Holding emergency funds unused.

I eyed each.

Future big shots.

Skip instant power-up? No normie cold blood.

Desire control, foresight elite.

But standout: skill surplus to skip absorbing and survive.

Man said:

"Sword for the shard."

"Here. Survive—and let's meet again."

"Thanks. Good words noted. And the blade."

He rose, melted into the crowd.

No player hunter.

Hunters lack patience—can't tote shards.

But faint bloodlust? From countless kills.

Gait screamed stat feasts.

Last trial survivor potential.

Maybe others here too.

But no matches from memory.

Hmm.

I knew last-trial faces roughly—ten years street-watching.

Hard to spot now.

Fresh from Earth: clean faces, pudgy/skinny builds, soft eyes.

After hellfronts, muscle, hollow eyes, wild hair—then I'll know.

And finally, business wrapped triumphantly.

"Sold out."

All farmed gear gone.

Saved crew's Epic+ and worn stuff for survival.

Just treasure vault junk left.

Late dinner done, we hit the armor shop. Clean sweep today.

Then—a notification.

Ah, wondered where the challenge was—this time, here.

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