40 gold crowns.
This wasn't a quote; it was a highway robbery.
One had to realize that Elias's current total assets, all added up, amounted to exactly 54 Soren, 11 Shillings, and 8 Fenny.
Let's do the math.
First was the 36 gold crowns salary he earned from working as a guard on the island for a month and a half.
Then there was the 20 Shillings in pocket change he took from Firth's wallet.
Finally, the biggest windfall: the 20 gold crowns bribe found in the hidden compartment of Firth's suitcase.
That was a total of 57 gold crowns.
It looks like a huge sum, right?
But after subtracting yesterday's deposit to Red-beard, the hotel room fee, dinner, carriage fare, and various tips...
This was all that remained.
In this damn Kingdom of Velen, what did 40 gold crowns mean?
It meant he could commission his own carriage in Landon City, and even hire a driver to take him three laps around the Velen Imperial Palace!
And now, with just a flick of his lips, this Red-beard wanted to take away the vast majority of his savings.
"We need to be reasonable."
Elias took a deep breath, attempting to shine the light of rationality upon this greedy soul.
"I made my budget very clear yesterday: under 35 gold crowns."
"Even if these items were made of solid gold, that's all the money I have."
However, Red-beard was clearly not moved by this display of logic.
A foolish grin was plastered across his face as his two large, calloused hands rubbed together, making a raspy sound much like a butcher sharpening his knives.
"It's not expensive! Really not expensive!"
Red-beard chuckled.
"Look at this craftsmanship, this texture!"
It was obvious that this fellow was dead set on recouping the money he had lost to Captain Crowley from a soft persimmon like Elias.
His level of craftiness was hardly inferior to that old sea dog, Crowley.
'Edmond, what do you think?'
Elias remained calm, calling for outside support in his mind.
"To be fair, the craftsmanship is indeed excellent."
Edmond's voice quickly responded with an objective admission.
"Within the budget you requested, the transcendent effects of all three items are quite good."
"Although this fat man's character is lacking, his skill as a craftsman is top-notch."
Having received the old ghost's affirmation, Elias felt a bit more confident.
The items were good, but that didn't mean he was willing to be a sucker.
"However..."
Edmond's tone shifted.
"This fat man's acting is terrible; I doubt you failed to notice."
'That's for sure!'
Elias glanced at Red-beard, who was smiling like a blooming wild chrysanthemum, and silently rolled his eyes.
"He's pure-bloodedly lying about the severe waste and breaking three saw blades."
"A believer of magic and the God of Alchemy and Craftsmen shouldn't be that incompetent."
"He definitely wants to embezzle the leftover scraps from those two large carapace husks."
"While those scraps can't make large items, they can be ground into powder or made into arrowheads to sell for a good price on the black market."
"So, you can use that to bargain; there's no problem at all."
"He probably sees you as a newcomer who just advanced to Scale One and thinks you don't know anything, so he's trying to force a sale to make a profit."
Dirty profiteer!
Elias cursed inwardly.
Since you're being unscrupulous, don't blame me for being unrighteous.
A plan immediately formed in his mind.
Elias instantly adopted an inscrutable, calm expression.
"Hey! Fatty!"
This form of address made Red-beard freeze instantly.
He widened his bull-like eyes and pointed at his own nose.
"What? Who are you calling?"
"Fatty?"
"I'm burly!"
Red-beard was clearly very dissatisfied with the name, his muscles tensing up.
"See, you're getting agitated again."
Elias waved his hand.
"I know you're in a hurry, but don't be in a hurry yet."
"First, the materials I gave you definitely weren't all used up. Don't talk to me about waste; I might be a layman, but I'm not blind."
"Those were two massive carapace husks; the material used for these three items isn't that much, is it?"
"Where are the leftover scraps?"
Red-beard opened his mouth to argue, but Elias didn't give him the chance, holding up a second finger.
"Second, I asked for two items, and you made three."
"What do you call this? It's called a forced sale!"
"Where is the logic in that?"
Elias stared into Red-beard's eyes, his tone categorical.
"One price! 30 gold crowns."
"I'll take these three items, and the leftover scraps will be considered a gift to you; I won't ask for them back."
"Eh? No!"
Red-beard was a bit dazed by this sudden verbal barrage, but he quickly reacted, shaking his head like a rattle.
"There really was waste! Brother, you don't know how difficult that stuff is to handle..."
"And 40 gold crowns for three items is really not expensive!"
"Then how about you let me tour your workshop?"
Elias suddenly interrupted him with a seemingly irrelevant request.
Red-beard immediately became alert, even taking half a step back to block the curtain leading to the back room.
"That's definitely not allowed!"
"It's a trade rule! My techniques are unique trade secrets; how can I just let them be seen?"
"Oh—!"
Elias elongated his tone, a look of sudden realization dawning on his face.
"If it's not a technical issue, then why are you so nervous?"
"Could it be..."
Elias lowered his voice, speaking mysteriously:
"That you're hiding some contraband?"
Red-beard's expression changed.
What were modern people best at?
It was definitely pinning labels on others!
Regardless of right or wrong, you slap a big label on them first and make them prove their innocence.
This tactic was a lethal weapon that never failed in online arguments.
"You should think carefully."
Elias continued to apply pressure, his speaking speed slow but his words cutting to the heart.
"Last night, the Seventh Agency found a corpse on the beach over there; that caused quite a stir."
"I assume you've heard about it."
"You also know the operating style of those black trench coats."
"They're currently frustrated about not finding any clues."
"If... and I'm just saying if... they happened to trace it back here..."
"You dare threaten me?!"
Red-beard finally realized what was happening.
Instantly, his eyes, surrounded by dark circles, bulged like copper bells.
The young apprentice nearby also immediately grabbed a hammer, preparing for a fight.
The atmosphere became instantly tense.
However, Elias knew very well that his true performance was only just beginning.
He remained very calm.
"It's really not a threat. Do you know where I got the carapace husk shells I gave you?"
He spoke persuasively, like a big bad wolf luring Little Red Riding Hood.
Red-beard froze for a moment and subconsciously asked, "Where from?"
Elias leaned into Red-beard's ear and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear:
"I got it from that corpse I looted."
When traveling, one's identity is whatever one claims it to be.
Furthermore, he wasn't lying; he really had looted a corpse.
It just wasn't the carapace husk shells.
The effect of this sentence was stronger than anything else he could have said.
Red-beard's face turned green instantly.
The corpse on the beach last night, the case the Seventh Agency was investigating, and the materials he was currently processing.
These three elements instantly connected into a line in his mind.
"Oh! You're going to be the death of me!"
Red-beard suddenly snapped, his previous ferocity turning into instant terror.
He clutched his head with both hands and paced in circles like an ant on a hot griddle.
"I knew it! I knew anyone associated with that old thing Crowley wouldn't be a good person!"
"This is stolen goods! This is murder evidence!"
"You kid are trying to drag me down with you!"
If the items were just ordinary stolen goods, Red-beard had been in the black market for so many years that he had ways to settle it.
But who would commit a crime right under their noses?
You're trying to launder money while they're actively investigating?
"So,"
Elias watched the panicked Red-beard and slowly tossed out his final trump card.
"If you want to kill me or cheat me,"
"And I die here, or if I refuse to leave and the Seventh Agency follows the clues here,"
"None of us will be getting away when that happens."
"If you insist on forcing me to pay 40 gold crowns, then I simply won't buy them. I'll go straight to turn myself in and say I'm reporting stolen goods at your place. Maybe it'll even count as a meritorious service."
"Either I go to meet the Mother Goddess of Destiny and you go to eat the Seventh Agency's prison food,"
"Or we can both eat royal meals together."
"We'll both have such a bright future!"
This speech effectively roasted Red-beard over the fire.
This was a case of the barefoot not fearing those with shoes.
I'm just a low-Scale One rookie; at worst, it's one life.
You, Red-beard, have a big business, a room full of equipment, and so much stock.
Who's afraid of whom?
"You..."
Red-beard pointed at Elias, his fingers trembling.
He clearly hadn't expected this refined-looking young man to have a heart even blacker than his own.
"I can report you first!"
Red-beard had a sudden inspiration, attempting a final struggle.
"You're going to turn yourself in? I'll drag you to the police station first! I'll say you brought stolen goods to be laundered!"
"Are you sure?"
Elias raised an eyebrow.
"Then don't blame me for biting back!"
"I'll just say you have contraband here."
"Whether it's true or not, they'll definitely come to search."
"And I only stole two carapace husk shells; that crime will only get me a few years at most."
"Once they enter to search..."
"The things in this shop of yours..."
Elias didn't continue, merely giving a meaningful smile.
"Who loses more?"
This was an unequal gamble.
It was also a contest of psychological fortitude.
Red-beard breathed heavily, staring fixedly at Elias.
He knew the kid was right.
If those people from the Seventh Agency entered his shop, they really never leave empty-handed.
Even if there was no problem, they'd find one!
To lose his life's work over a few dozen gold crowns?
It wasn't worth it.
Not worth it at all!
"Fine!"
Red-beard swung his large hand violently, as if shooing away a bothersome fly.
His large face was written with bad luck and impatience.
"I'm afraid of you!"
"35 gold crowns, you take all three!"
"Will that do?"
Rate on N.U.
