Business Tastes Best When You Haggle Hard
The comments section was already on fire.
“I’ll make sure you lick more than just toes, you bastard.”
The blatant insult made rage flare up for a second.
But after three hundred years as a blacksmith, I’d seen my share of these types.
The smart move was to let ignorant trash like this go in one ear and out the other.
I ignored it and kept scrolling through the rest of the comments.
“Hah, now we’re talking.”
The sweet scent of capital wafting from the comments was intoxicating.
This was exactly why I made equipment.
With a calmer mind, I scanned through the replies and private messages. A strange addiction took hold; I suddenly felt the urge to start forging weapons right away and post new listings.
But everything has its proper order.
First, I sifted through the mountain of comments and messages, carefully selecting only those who truly understood the real value of my weapons.
“Only the ones who know how precious these items are should get them. That way my weapons will be happy too.”
Even if the grades were low, every piece had passed through my hands.
I’d rather throw them back into the furnace than hand them over to some random idiot.
“Hmm. Still too many, though.”
Even after filtering, more than ten people remained.
I only had three E-grade pieces, one D-grade, and one C-grade dagger in stock right now.
I needed to narrow it down further to match the number of items.
I could make more and sell them, sure, but flooding the market would only drive down prices and rarity.
For now, I’d sell in small batches and gauge the hunters’ reactions.
“This comment’s good.”
Out of all the replies and messages, I picked the five most polite ones and sent responses.
“Whew. Replies are done. Now I just need to figure out how to actually send the stuff.”
Since I was using the marketplace, there had to be instructions on the page somewhere.
I left the Hunter Gallery marketplace and started checking other posts. One neatly organized guide caught my eye.
I read through the post carefully.
It explained that there were basically two ways to trade: direct deals or consignment shipping.
The author strongly recommended using Market Rocket for consignment. Sure, there were fees and shipping costs, but it was way better than dealing with higher-ranked hunters who would haggle aggressively or even resort to violence. In the worst cases, people apparently got their items straight-up stolen.
Also, don’t try to ship anything that stinks. That’s not allowed.
“Direct trade or consignment shipping, huh.”
According to the guide, the choice was obvious.
Either meet strangers face-to-face and go through the hassle of negotiating, or pay a small fee and handle everything comfortably through consignment.
“Direct trade sounds like a pain in the ass.”
Sitting across from someone I didn’t know and arguing over prices didn’t suit my personality at all.
Maybe it was the trauma from my dwarf days. Just seeing knights or nobles was enough to give me a stress-induced migraine.
They’d always stick their noses in the air and treat people like machines that spat out goods.
The post basically said the same thing: the marketplace was crawling with hunter versions of those arrogant pricks, so it was smarter to avoid the headache altogether.
In that case, consignment was obviously the way to go for my peace of mind.
“People really are the same no matter where you go.”
I packed the newspaper-wrapped weapons into my bag and headed out again.
Market Rocket.
The largest delivery company in the country.
Apparently it started as the company that revolutionized logistics with its lightning-fast Rocket Delivery service. After the Gates appeared, they partnered with the Hunter Gallery marketplace and evolved into this massive platform.
They even hired hunters to safely transport loot from the towers.
But the moment I stepped through the fancy entrance, chaos greeted me.
“No, why can’t I send this?! You said you’d ship anything! I’m just sending it to my own house!”
“Ma’am, I’ve told you several times. We cannot ship items that have a strong odor. There’s a risk of cross-contamination, and the shipping fee increases. Besides, why do you keep bringing in stuff that needs to be disposed of? If you don’t clean this up right now, I’ll have to report you for illegal dumping!”
“What a circus.”
A scrawny woman clutching a suspicious-looking box was arguing with an employee.
I didn’t know the full story, but it seemed the post was right; they really wouldn’t ship anything that stank.
If they said no, just accept it. Why make things harder on yourself?
“Sigh.”
Seeing her struggle with a box almost as big as she was, I felt a twinge of pity.
I was about to walk past them when—
Sniff.
A very familiar… extremely recognizable stench hit me.
“Huh?”
The sharp, fishy, nauseating smell that stung my nose.
It was the unmistakable odor of goblin leather—the same one I’d grown sick of during my dwarf days.
The nostalgic stench stopped me in my tracks.
I had no idea why tower loot would smell exactly like the goblins from the other world, but the scent dragged up old memories I’d tried to forget.
Are you doing it properly?! You can’t even read the grain of the leather and you want to pick up a hammer?!
The hellish ten years I spent under my master right after being summoned to the other world, handling nothing but goblin leather.
Every time I messed up, an iron club would come flying at my back without mercy.
The days when my fingernails turned pitch black, my whole body reeked, and even my fellow apprentices avoided me.
The bitter start of my training came rushing back so vividly that goosebumps rose along my spine.
“Just take it already!”
A sudden sharp shout scattered the memories like mist.
When I looked up, the woman was being kicked out of the building with a miserable expression.
Her hands trembled violently as she clutched the box.
Now that I think about it…
In the other world, goblin leather was a staple material for beginner blacksmiths.
It was easy to get, tough, and if processed correctly, it offered the best cost-performance ratio for armor.
The posts I’d skimmed on the marketplace earlier flashed through my mind.
The price was dirt cheap.
With my current bank balance, I could easily afford it.
And if I turned that leather into proper equipment and sold it…?
My gaze naturally drifted to the box in the woman’s arms.
“Excuse me.”
I called out to her as she trudged away dejectedly.
“...Yes? Me?”
She looked back with a puzzled expression.
“Is the stuff in that box for sale?”
“It is, but…”
She hesitated at my question.
“Can I take a quick look at the goods?”
“Huh? It smells really bad… everyone’s been grossed out by it…”
Before she could finish, I reached into the box and pulled out a piece of leather.
“Wait!”
She flinched in surprise, but my attention was already completely focused on the texture against my fingertips.
Just as I thought.
I yanked out a clump of leather, roughly unfolding it.
It hadn’t been properly cleaned—the membrane was still attached—but the elasticity was beyond imagination.
It even carried a faint trace of mana. This was far superior to ordinary goblin leather.
At least a goblin chief? Maybe even goblin king level?
I ran my fingers along the grain and cheered inwardly.
It might look like a lump of filth to others, but with proper processing, this was practically a bundle of cash.
“Hmm.”
“Are… are you interested in buying?”
Even when she asked, I didn’t answer right away.
Instead, I put on a deliberately serious face, stroking my chin as if meticulously inspecting the leather’s condition.
Of course, inside I was dancing with joy.
Leather of this quality was hard to come by even in the other world.
But the first rule of business is poker face.
The moment I showed any eagerness, the power to set the price would shift to the other party.
The one who wants it more always ends up at a disadvantage.
When the seller doesn’t know the true value of their goods, the buyer should act like the picky expert.
Emphasize the flaws that need immediate fixing rather than the material’s rarity.
That was the basic skill needed to… well, to drive a hard bargain. For a reasonable transaction, of course.
“...The leather itself isn’t bad, but the preparation is terrible. Never mind the smell; at this rate the processing cost will probably exceed the material value.”
I flicked the edge of the membrane with my fingertip and frowned.
“...Right? I knew it was too much, wasn’t it?”
Her voice grew watery.
She’d just been rejected even by Market Rocket.
To her right now, this box was probably nothing more than a headache she wanted to get rid of as fast as possible.
“How much were you thinking of selling it for?”
The hook was in her lip. Time to give the line a gentle tug.
“Ah… it’s 10kg, so… um… ten thousand won…”
“Ten thousand?”
At my question, she flinched and lowered her head even further.
“If that’s too expensive… then… eight thousand…”
Her overly submissive attitude pricked my conscience a little.
But my own situation wasn’t exactly comfortable either.
I pulled a ten-thousand-won bill from my pocket, pretending to be generous.
“Let’s go with ten thousand.”
“...Ah, eight thou— Wait, what? You’re buying? Really?”
She looked back and forth between the bill in my hand and my face, completely stunned.
The suspicious look in her eyes vanished the moment she realized I was serious, replaced by pure brightness.
If a retriever saw a snack, it would probably make exactly that face.
Her eyes looked like they might overflow with tears any second as she sighed in relief and quickly shoved the box toward me.
“Thank you so much!”
“If you get more of this, could you contact me separately? Seems like no one else will take it because of the smell.”
I took the heavy box and casually dropped the suggestion.
“Ah, yes! I will! By the way… may I ask your name…?”
“I’m Lee Shinwoo.”
“I’m Kang Chae-ah. Thank you so much!”
We lightly exchanged numbers.
She walked away with light steps, as if she’d just dropped a massive burden.
Watching her retreating figure, I looked inside the box at the leather once more.
“Heh heh. Talk about a lucky break.”
Turning ten-thousand-won leather into high-priced equipment.
This was the kind of massive profit created by information asymmetry.
And the way a craftsman survives in capitalism.
Yeah, business really does taste best when you haggle hard.
After finishing the consignment process, I finally returned to my rooftop room.
Carrying that heavy leather box had completely drained what little stamina I had.
“Ugh, I’m gonna die. I’m seriously dying.”
It was probably because my strength, agility, and stamina stats were all scraping the bottom.
To be screaming in agony after carrying just one box… I desperately needed to raise my stats as soon as possible.
“Haa. I’ll just sleep for now.”
My mind was already half logged out.
I didn’t even want to wash; I just wanted to collapse on the bed and pass out.
Just as my eyelids grew unbearably heavy—
Knock knock.
A knock echoed through the room.
“...”
The landlady?
At this hour, the only person who would come all the way up to the rooftop room was the landlady.
I was already two months behind on rent.
Hiding wouldn’t solve anything anymore.
Besides, I’d sold the weapons, so money would come in soon.
Time to face her head-on!
“Ah, ma’am… about the rent, I’ll have it soon…”
I staggered over, mumbling my prepared excuse, and opened the door.
The moment I flung it open with the excuse on my lips, I froze solid.
Instead of the landlady who should have been standing there, an entirely unexpected person was waiting.
“Are you by any chance the user ‘HammeringFor300Years’?”
“...Park Taesu?”
The guy who had screwed me over at the Management Office was standing in front of my shabby rooftop room.