Chapter 50
Chapter 50
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: Brand (3)
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Through the real estate auction, he'd pulled it forward by up to seven times, but this was an even bigger deal since it could be repeated indefinitely.
Four times, 4.5 times, five times.
Rokan steadily tested the waters, tossing out items, and sold off all the gear he had at just the right level.
"This is what a lottery feels like!"
The amount he raked in was truly staggering.
[Held Funds: 458 Gold 98 Silver 32 Copper]
Nearly 4.5 times the profit. And in just a few dozen minutes.
No matter how much the rich get richer, when the investment scale grows, so does the profit—nothing to sneeze at.
But Rokan had no intention of stopping there. He bought up a massive batch of items from the auction house again, then headed to the dwarf blacksmith to attempt enhancements.
Exactly up to +3. Going higher might fetch even better prices, but he didn't want them getting too strong.
Still tough for taking down level 100 monsters. That level was just right, so he mass-produced +3 weapons and flooded the auction house.
"The world is wide, and there are plenty of suckers!"
No worries about oversupply tanking the value.
How many people do you think even play The Lord? With so many fields, players from the same country barely cross paths, let alone from other nations, who take even longer to meet.
The integrated auction house transcended regions and nations, so the number of level 90s users who could buy Rokan's items easily hit tens of millions. Selling to a few hundred wouldn't budge the value.
That's why they sold out as fast as he listed them, even after time passed.
Some folks noticed the oddity and posted on the forums, but it was just empty echoes. Only conspiracy nuts and scammers trying to exploit it yapped on—no one could give a clear answer.
'Of course not. Nobody knows.'
Meanwhile, Rokan kept enhancing items like magic, piling up cash. He was so absorbed he had no time for hunting or certification quests.
"Gotta row when the tide's coming in."
He burned a full day, but for this profit, it was worth it. It felt like he was earning all of The Lord's money himself.
Starting from 4x flips, each sale let him scale up bigger, building massive capital without even needing crafted items.
'Still, crafted gear is a long-term play.'
But he couldn't ditch crafted items. Well-rolled "craft tems" could hit +5 or better.
Plus, raising blacksmith affinity unlocked commissions in order: [Repair], [Enhance], [Craft]. Even if enhancement secrets leaked, crafting would suck honey for a while.
After sinking a full day into business, he logged in the next day and couldn't help furrowing his brow.
[Regional Notice: Enhancement system has been updated.]
[From now on, the daily limit for the enhancement system is restricted to 100 uses. Please use accordingly.]
The Lord’s god-slash-AI, Kondol, had pushed an emergency patch. Seemed annoyed at Rokan monopolizing enhancements and sucking honey. Now he couldn't churn out infinite enhanced items with a daily cap.
"At least it's a regional notice."
If it were global, everyone would know about enhancements, but regional meant just this area—i.e., Rokan.
In another light, it was Kondol's warning shot at him.
But Rokan didn't care much. He wasn't breaking system rules.
Plus, he'd already maxed his own gear. The Lion King's Sealed Helmet couldn't enhance, but it outperformed "high-enhance tems" anyway, so no issue. The rest, sacrificed for crit chance, hit +5—usable long-term without lagging behind others.
So his remaining 100 enhancements could go elsewhere. Sure, only enough for thirty-three +3 items, but that was plenty. He'd regretted dumping too many yesterday in excitement.
"Good thing I wrapped enhancements yesterday."
Accepting the patch humbly, Rokan headed back to the dwarf blacksmith. Time to pick up commissioned crafts.
"Here they are. A few duds mixed in—kinda embarrassing."
Unlike his sheepish head-scratching, the results were stellar. Out of fifty blades, only seven were low-grade; the rest magic or rare. Three even unique.
Higher grades meant killer attack power and options.
Options and attack were random, but these longswords packing heavy weapon-level damage? In skilled hands, they'd flip the meta.
"How much to price these..."
Could get dicey if rivals caught up, but Rokan was flush with time. Sure, such weapons boosted third-job quest odds, but gear alone doesn't clear class thresholds. Crappy control wastes even god-rolls—third-job stays a pipe dream.
Combo skills outshone weapon edges, and level 100s wielded gear leagues above level 90s anyway. These wouldn't shift things much.
Plus, his planted misinformation would bog down routes to third cities.
"Guess we'll see in a fight."
Rokan listed them all on the integrated auction house. Difference from prior enhancements: no instant buyout.
Auction times: one day for magic or below, two for rare, four for unique. Highest bidder in that window wins.
He enhanced twenty-five blades—items to burn holes in players' hearts—then left the auction house.
He could've done thirty-three max, but held back for one reason.
[+5 Slaughterer's Axe][Rare]
An axe modeled after one used by a slaughterer who rained merciless death on foes.
Infused with the slaughterer's madness, granting special power.
-Attack Power: 320(+150)
-Durability: 1,000/1,000
-[Blood Madness] effect: Attack power increases as HP lowers
This was why.
He'd used yesterday's flip profits to commission his personal weapon too.
Axe drops sucked, so he'd outsourced it—never dreamed it'd be this nuts.
"Oh yeah, pretty!"
No extra stats, but raw power and that lone option screamed berserker.
He enhanced it on pickup. Luck sucked—over twenty tries for +5—but he nailed it.
This weapon wouldn't blink at level 150s.
"Time to run again."
Snapping out of money-blind greed, Rokan refocused. Just the start. He headed to the half-elf racial building.
"You're... human. What brings you here?"
The half-elves eyed him warily despite same faction—annoying, but he needed them.
'Not even full elves, yet such tightwads!'
Cursing inwardly, he plastered on a smile.
"Came to help. Heard you have troubles."
"Who told you...? No need. Not desperate enough for frail human hands."
The half-elf leader rejected flatly, but Rokan knew it was bluff. He prodded again.
"I've earned the dwarves' respect. Not as weak as you think—give me a shot, worst case you lose nothing."
"The dwarves, huh... Figures. Fine, sit."
Mentioning dwarves made her glare, but she let him in. Better than pure elves, but tree-hugger half-elves clashed with destruction-rebirth-loving dwarves.
Still, they respected each other's stubborn skills.
That's why she could hand him a tough quest.
[Secure Foraging Party's Safety][Quest]
Half-elves sent to forage in Tekalona Forest haven't reported in days. Locate them, confirm safety, escort back to Crossroads.
-Success Conditions:
Confirm half-elf foraging party survival (0/1)
Escort half-elf foraging party (0/1)
-Failure Condition: Half-elf foraging party dies
-Completion Reward: Recognition of the half-elf tribe
-Additional rewards based on achievement rate
Extra rewards again. Just saving and returning them? Or speed? Rokan knew the hidden goal.
Fulfill why they went to Tekalona Forest.
'World Tree-related, probably.'
Didn't recall every detail, but half-elf racial quests tied to the World Tree. Rebuild it, summon lost elves, revive elf kingdom.
And enemies inevitably meddled.
'Undead, I think.'
Pushing achievement rate ramped difficulty, but Rokan was set. +5 gear top to bottom—what's to fear?
He grabbed the quest confidently and hit the stables. Quest route stretched long now—shortcuts key to fast growth.
[You have purchased a Black Horse.]
[Summon whistle provided. Blow anytime to summon/dismiss Black Horse.]
[Combat effectiveness may be limited while mounted.]
The so-called White Bone Horse.
Bones aren't white—it's the 100-gold price earning the "white bone" tag. Rokan bought one boldly.
Current market? 20 million won cash, a real car. But worth it for time saved.
'No choice now—gonna milk it dry.'
Mount up, squeeze thighs, heel tap. Rokan charged across the vast plains.