Bad Uncle

Clearly, he was far more interested in the origin of this gold coin than in trading with the kobold before him.

For a dirt-poor kobold tribe to suddenly produce a gold coin...

...was as absurd as a beggar who had been homeless for years suddenly pulling out the keys to a Lamborghini.

“You don't need to know,”

Fido said loudly, lifting his chin and staring straight at Magricius with his cloudy eyes.

“Now, give us the salt!”

“Oh, heavens! If you don't tell me, how do I know you didn't just rob some passing merchants?”

Magricius said as he waved his hand, slipping the gold coin into his storage ring.

He casually stepped back toward his mercenaries, pretending it was an unconscious move.

“My dear Chief, you must understand that I am an honest merchant. I never accept dirty money like this...”

Fido hesitated for a moment, then spoke as if reciting a rehearsed script:

“This was given to us by a Lord Mixologist who is temporarily staying in our tribe.”

“She also has some liquor she wants you to help sell...”

As a straightforward kobold, his acting skills were frankly terrible.

After rushing through his lines, he pulled out another gold coin and jingled it in his hand.

“That esteemed guest also wants you to help purchase some goods.”

“Are you telling the truth?”

Magricius's expression turned serious.

He took two steps forward, looking down at Fido.

He tried to read the old kobold's face to see if he was lying.

He had indeed heard that some mixologists traveled far and wide to brew unique, exquisite liquors.

They searched for rare ingredients suitable for their brewing.

Compared to a noble mixologist, traveling merchants like them were practically beggars.

Those master brewers could easily sell a single barrel of liquor for an exorbitant price.

If this old kobold was telling the truth, he was about to make an absolute fortune.

Fido's cloudy eyes flickered. Instead of giving a direct answer, he waved his hand.

Receiving the signal, two strong young kobolds immediately stepped out from the crowd, carrying a wooden barrel that stood half a man tall.

Magricius's eyes went wide.

Snapping out of his daze, he quickly took a few large strides forward, pulled out the barrel's wooden plug, dipped his finger inside, and tasted the liquor.

Shifting his gaze craftily, he turned his head and shouted to Fido:

“This barrel of liquor tastes rather ordinary!”

He dipped his finger in again to take another taste.

“I can only offer you one silver coin for this entire barrel, at most.”

“One silver coin?” Fido frowned. “That is far too little...”

Having heard Irene explain the value of these liquors, he knew very well that they were worth far more than that.

Even if ninety percent of this barrel was actually diluted with water.

“It is already quite generous, my dear Chief.”

Magricius shot a look at the mercenaries behind him, signaling them to load the barrel onto a packhorse.

“Chief, you have never been to the outside world, so you do not understand the market. The price I am offering is already extremely fair.”

As he spoke, he pointed toward the mercenaries behind him—specifically, at their drawn weapons, which gleamed with a cold light.

“I have incurred many expenses along this journey. You cannot expect me to...”

“Enough! You are far too greedy!”

Unable to bear it any longer, Fido slammed his cane heavily against the ground, cutting Magricius off.

“Put the liquor down! We would rather sell it to other traveling merchants than to you!”

“Come now, Chief, try to understand. I have my own difficulties too.”

Magricius patted the barrel that had already been secured onto the packhorse.

“Besides, other merchants might not even offer you a price as high as mine.”

“How about this? Take me to meet the Lord Mixologist who brewed this. I am sure they understand the true value of this liquor far better than you do.”

“This...” Fido fell silent for a moment.

During this silence, Magricius watched the old kobold intently, trying to guess his thoughts.

“No. It is inconvenient for that esteemed guest to meet you,” Fido said.

“Oh? Is that so?”

The smile on Magricius's face grew even wider.

In his mind, why would any mixologist willingly come to such a remote, godforsaken place?

These savages must have simply robbed some unlucky traveling merchant who happened to pass by.

Now, they wanted to use the stolen gold and liquor to trade for goods with an honest merchant like him.

Well, since he had stumbled upon this, he might as well help that anonymous fellow merchant recover his goods and gold.

Magricius's gaze took on a dangerous edge.

During his first two visits, he had already gotten a clear grasp of this tribe's strength.

They were nothing but a bunch of elderly, women, and children. Not a single class-holder among them.

With the three mercenaries he brought along, they could easily wipe this place off the map.

In the God-Forsaken Land, it was common for traveling merchants to be attacked by beastkin and half-beastkin.

Consequently, it was just as common for traveling merchants to lead adventurers to exterminate entire tribes.

Magricius did not feel any moral conflict about this.

After all, these beastkin and half-beastkin were like weeds in a field.

As long as the oasis remained, a new batch would sprout up before long.

There was absolutely no need to worry about running out of business.

Magricius silently plotted his next move.

Glancing at the still-hesitant old kobold, he turned around and spoke to his mercenaries:

“Hey, guys, I think we should stretch our limbs a bit...”

“I advise you to abandon that dangerous thought.”

A sudden voice interrupted Magricius mid-sentence.

Following the sound, he saw a human girl standing not far away, though he hadn't noticed when she had arrived.

Her fair skin and clean black robe stood in stark contrast to the dirty, disheveled kobolds behind her.

For a young human girl to suddenly appear in this savage, God-Forsaken Land was highly unusual, no matter how one looked at it.

Magricius was slightly surprised. But seeing the old kobold's reverent expression, he quickly put two and two together and thought to himself:

This was getting interesting. If he could use this opportunity to get to know a mixologist...

...or even establish a partnership to exclusively sell their liquors, he would be set for life.

Who would ever want to come back to this savage wasteland then?

With this in mind, Magricius shot a look at his mercenaries, signaling them to put away their weapons for now.

He then walked toward the young girl. Whipping out a sugar cube from his storage ring like a magic trick, he squatted down and said in a coaxing tone:

“Would you like a sugar cube, beautiful young lady?”