I've Got a Money-Duplication Bug

"So money can be copy-pasted."

Using the auction house was simple. All I had to do was step into one of the auction booths installed at the Hunter Association, verify my hunter license, and deposit whatever items I wanted to sell.

Since the auction booth itself was an SS-rank skill, it inspected the items and synced them directly to the auction site as listings — meaning I could sell anything I owned, whenever I pleased.

Having to verify my hunter license was a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠little unsettling, but I decided not to assume an SS-rank hunter operating auction houses all over the world would come hunting for me over something that trivial.

"Am I selling these too cheap?"

So, the things I'd listed. Honestly, from where I stood, accurately gauging market prices and selling at fair value was next to impossible. I'd never studied a lick of economics, and even in games, rather than bothering to research going rates, my daily routine was to slap items up at lowest price minus one won out of sheer laziness.

Watching my sleeping bags get resold at inflated prices should have bothered me a little — but mercifully, that feeling never came.

"Free advertising is free advertising."

The sleeping bags and swords were just clutter I'd received as quest rewards anyway; clearing them out was the whole point. I had no romantic notions about poor hunters finally getting gear they needed at an affordable price — I knew full well it would only fatten the scalpers — but I decided to be satisfied that within just two days, talk of the 100x Channel was slowly starting to appear on the Hunter Gallery and various other communities.

And just as a modest trickle of attention began to gather...

I threw a Heroic-grade beginner's survival sword onto the market at a steal. It sold less than three seconds after listing.

At the same time, before even a minute had passed, posts came flooding into the gallery.

And that was when it hit me.

"Why do I even need to set the prices myself?"

Watch the gallery, and the collective hivemind would debate the price of anything I sold among themselves, dragging in all sorts of comparables and settling on a number for me.

Even better, the sword I'd sold would inevitably be relisted on auction shortly after, letting me measure its actual market price. Follow that, and even if I took a small loss here and there, I could move inventory fast at perfectly reasonable prices.

But knowing that, I still chose not to.

"You're telling me this many people are watching my channel and nothing else?"

I could make money selling things privately, without ever registering them on the 100x Channel.

"Keep your eyes peeled, folks. You never know when the next one drops."

Even though all I did was sit at home ordering delivery food while watching the auction house and the gallery, the days flew by before I knew where they'd gone.

"These are the potions I made with the ingredients you gave me."

After spending about three days glued to the auction house at home, I finally reported to the workshop — and Lee Arin greeted me with a weary smile, dark circles sagging beneath her eyes.

Five hundred HP potions, enshrined like precious treasures.

"Whoa. That's... a lot?"

"I brewed twenty hours a day."

"It takes that long?"

"Brewing the potion itself doesn't take long — it's the concentrating and first-stage processing of the Fruit of Life that eats up time. I used up all the pre-prepared blending ingredients I had in stock and had to source more, so it took a while."

Seeing that made me feel inexplicably guilty.

"I didn't ask you to make this many."

"Oh! I'm sorry. There's still plenty of Fruit of Life left, so I started with the high-quality batches first..."

"No, no, you don't need to apologize."

What I'd actually asked for was to keep a reserve on hand so that, like last time, we'd always have about one dose's worth ready. After all, I'd guzzled every last one hunting those wild dogs, and the warehouse stood empty.

Instead, to grind experience, Lee Arin had converted nearly eight entire Fruits of Life into potions.

Not that it mattered. The remaining Fruit plants had already gone through a second harvest — there were hundreds sitting in the fields. My only worry was that, unable to tell her about the 100x ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Server, she might feel bad about all the experience points being "wasted" here.

"Take a look. Genuinely top-shelf goods."

"Whoa!!"

My worries evaporated the instant I saw the potions. After all, the crafting ingredients would keep coming. The Fruit of Life was fine on its own — but this was where the investment in an S-rank alchemist, one who could amplify the fruit's effects like this, paid off in the span of a single bottle.

"Shall we formalize the contract, then?"

I transferred 1.3 billion won to Lee Arin on the spot through the auction site. Sure, it took a 1% fee, but it was far more convenient than the hassle of withdrawing physical cash.

"Thank you, Master!! I look forward to serving you!!"

"Likewise. I've got plenty I'll need you for, Arin."

"Anything!! I'm confident I can do it all, without skipping a single thing!!"

A contract that left us both satisfied. Despite the exhaustion caked all over her, she wore the expression of someone hoping for a compliment, shooting me a look that asked what she'd be tasked with next.

Managing people was new to me, so I'd had my worries — but watching how utterly docile Kim Yerin had become inside the 100x Server gave me some confidence. At the end of the day, every deal was give and take. In a trade where I offered something overwhelmingly valuable that the other party could never obtain otherwise, I figured a little rudeness and high-handedness on my part would be tolerated to a reasonable degree.

"First, I'll list a few of these potions on the channel and sell them at less than half of Taesung's price. And Arin — I need you making potions around E-rank quality."

"Using the high-grade fruit?"

"Yes."

With our expectations aligned, I brought up business. When I laid out what I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wanted, Lee Arin raised the issue carefully, her expression troubled.

"I can make them, but... the Fruit of Life is just too good."

A problem born of the fruit's excessively high grade.

"At Taesung, the mass-market F and E-rank potions are usually made from D-grade Fruit of Life. That's their absolute bottom tier — a half-grown fruit the size of half a fist, barely ripe. They extract only the bare minimum concentration, squeeze out about two hundred bottles, and sell them to minimize their losses. Compare the price of that fruit to this one, and the difference is at least tens of times over..."

"Doesn't matter. If we're going to crush Taesung, the quality has to be good."

At my unhesitating declaration, her lips twitched — but she couldn't quite swallow down the practical concern.

"Lowering the grade doesn't exactly enable mass production, you know. Especially with Fruit of Life this good — I can increase the volume, but a lot of the potency leaks away, so overall..."

It was a worry I was glad to hear. Even though the contract was barely signed, it was the reaction of someone who genuinely cared about me — and about the Fruit of Life itself.

I stepped closer and put a hand on Lee Arin's shoulder. Meeting those worried eyes, I gave it to her straight.

"I don't care how much money we lose. I'm going to grant your wishes too, so think of it as spending my money and just make it."

"..."

I'd done a rough bit of research, myself. On the size of the potion market. It was decently large, but not nearly as colossal as one might imagine.

Hunters above a certain rank always brought a healer along — it was a survival choice, plain and simple. And hunters who couldn't afford a healer didn't push themselves into dangerous dungeons in the first place.

Which meant HP potions were essentially a fire-extinguisher market — a product you hoped would save your life at the critical moment. And consumer-grade fire extinguishers don't climb above a certain price point. The more expensive they got, the higher the threshold climbed before even poor hunters would crack open their wallets for one.

There was a supply ceiling on the Fruit of Life, too.

That was precisely why Taesung Pharmaceutical had been able to hold a monopoly — and why a mere individual like me could show Lee Arin the near-bravado confidence of vowing to shatter Taesung outright.

"But it has to be you, Arin."

"...Sorry?"

"Calculate how many we need to make to put Taesung down — and make exactly that."

"Oh!"

Me, of course, I was just the head cheerleader and the sugar daddy. Playing the fun anonymous merchant was my job; the analysis belonged to the professional.

Her expert gaze turned to the ingredients still stacked in towering piles. She ran the numbers fast, and her expression stiffened slightly.

"It won't be easy. Honestly, it might be better to just lock down the A-rank market solid. Even lowering the grade with these ingredients, eighty bottles a week is my ceiling — and Taesung supplies over five thousand F-rank potions a week..."

"So we'd need at least a hundred Fruits of Life per week, then?"

"Yes."

The towering wall of reality. The frustration of confronting the fact that even with ingredients this good, something remained out of reach.

I could have opened the server warehouse and shown her. I didn't.

"Could you pack about a week's worth of supplies?"

"Pardon? Why would I need to pack..."

"Because there's somewhere you're coming with me."

"...!"

At my offer, her eyes wavered. Her lips opened and closed, fumbling ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for words, before she swallowed dryly.

"Think of it as a field trip. Consider it me granting your third wish, too."

Did she even hear a word I was saying right in front of her?

After a moment's hesitation, Lee Arin's face settled into a look of decision, and she nodded.

"Yes."

How would Server Slave No. 2 react, I wondered?

As I stored the potions in the warehouse, I bustled about my own preparations to welcome a new guest.