55. "Heh Heh, Think You Can Handle It?"

The Mirage Merchant burst into incredulous laughter at my question.

"In all my years of dealing, you're undoubtedly the boldest trader I've ever met. Me, unable to handle something? There's nothing the Mirage Merchant can't procure."

"You didn't even have a mid-grade Blue Stone, yet you tried trading with me... "

"And that's exactly why you got it, isn't it?"

Despite my jab, he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠only smirked wider.

"Of course, I can't provide things like the end of the world or assassinations... You understand those are off-limits, right? Even the Mirage Merchant has his rules."

"Naturally."

I nodded.

"Good. Then swear on this contract now. The details of the trade will appear on it."

He pulled a weathered scroll from his robes. It looked like ordinary parchment, but I recognized it instantly.

Yeoneung Seoyakseo.

'Even back then, when Glory's 9 swore their loyalty to me, they used one of these.'

I gave a wry smile at the familiar parchment after so long.

"This is probably your first time seeing one, so let me explain briefly. It's a bit different from a standard contract—nothing complicated. No need to sign; just swear it verbally."

The Mirage Merchant unrolled the parchment and held it out to me.

"What's the condition?"

"The trade listed here is like a test from me. As I said, you'll see the details after swearing. All you have to do is complete it."

"B-Bro, you're really taking a quest without knowing the details? Even for you, this is... "

Nam-gung Yun, who'd been silently obeying until now, finally spoke up, sensing how utterly unfair this deal was.

And he had a point—Dimension World occasionally spawned quests that were nearly impossible to clear. Most were likely World Quests, but since I was already on one, difficulty didn't matter. This was worth the challenge.

"Hmmm... "

"Scared? You can back out even now."

As I hesitated, he teased. There was a hint of amusement in his voice.

Communities had debated the Mirage Merchant's existence endlessly. Players who thrived on grinding levels, skills, and dungeons hated him—he undercut the joy of self-made strength. But others argued that in a lottery-like world rigged by corporations and sponsors, pure effort couldn't compete. The Merchant was key to flipping the script.

'Both sides are the same, though.'

The first were sponsored players; the second, the dirt-poor grinders.

'Spend less time whining online and more time getting stronger.'

Still, their chatter had pieced together some solid intel. The most reliable: When the Mirage Merchant trades, he measures not by item grade, but by quantity.

'Only if he wants what you have, of course... '

Players had spotted the pattern: 'He appears to those holding what he desires.'

But we overlooked one thing—not everything he craved was an item.

'Players drool over his gear and skills... '

I sneered, curling one lip.

The Mirage Merchant, coveted by all, was an enigma—not a benevolent helper. Loaded with Heroic and even Legendary items, would he covet ours? No. He'd tricked players with junk before.

'He's no ally. He's the most dangerous entity to watch for.'

Knowing that, I had to tread carefully with him.

"One question before we trade."

"Getting chatty."

"For a big deal, isn't a simple service fair?"

"Heh heh... Fine. What is it?"

I asked, "Are you planning to take Isabel Silver as your disciple?"

He flashed a cryptic smile. "Sorry, can't answer that."

"Bargaining?"

He shook his head at my probe.

"Haha, no. I'm more interested in you than you think. I don't want to sour things over trivia."

"What do you mean?"

"Hard to say... She might become my disciple—or not."

The Mirage Merchant eyed me.

"As Unto told you, I'm getting on in years. I need a successor... scouting candidates. She's one of them."

"Have you met Silver?"

"Not yet. She's promising, but far from your level. Why not become my heir instead?"

"I don't work under anyone. Doesn't suit me."

"Kekeke... "

I watched him chuckle with that grating rasp, thinking.

'In my vision of Dimension World, she was the top candidate to claim his seat. But he approached me first... '

My feats must've outshone other players.

'I need to meet the Hidden Eater before he does.'

"Let's trade."

Confirmed, I placed my hand on the contract.

"Accepted."

Woooong...!!

My palm print glowed vividly on the paper as the contract lit up.

'As expected... '

He'd called it a mere contract, but the alert clearly labeled it an oath document. A subtle wordplay anyone might gloss over—but I nodded slowly as I read.

'Just as I thought. It's a Yeoneung Seoyakseo.'

This parchment was no ordinary item.

Yet he'd said nothing.

That alone made his "fair trade" dubious.

'Sure, verifying every detail is trading basics—if I got cocky, no complaints... '

He'd exploited that blind spot by hiding the parchment's secret.

Why does the contract type matter?

'Other players wouldn't know. It didn't exist in Dimension World 1.'

Yeoneung Seoyakseo (Word Spirit Oath Document). Less a contract, more a ritual binding.

Words hold ancient power beyond writing—hence incantations for spells. This heirloom required verbal acceptance but enforced terms absolutely.

'Those who swear on it must stake their life to fulfill it.'

That was the core.

'Glory's 9 bound themselves that way to prove loyalty.'

A life-on-the-line oath. Reckless without warning—bordering on scam.

With the servers fresh, no full item database existed. Tons of in-game items stayed unknown.

'This is one of them.'

We lack info. That's our weakness—NPCs hold the edge.

"... "

I glared coldly at him.

Exploiting player ignorance like this? Astonishing for a programmed AI.

"Not a bad offer, eh? A safeguard against risks—just choose your clause wisely."

He spoke leisurely, like granting a favor.

"One question. If the test is tough, it might take time. Didn't you say you're seeking a disciple? You're no spring chicken."

"True."

"What if you die first? Does my test fail?"

"Hahaha, no worries. As long as the Mirage Merchant's name endures, your test continues."

"Still uncertain."

"Kekeke. If I somehow perish, you'll get your reward."

He waved it off, amused at the odd query.

"But... don't entertain foolish thoughts."

His eyes flashed menacingly—a warning against regicide.

Yet his threat only brought me relief. I smiled at him.

'You're... '

I added a single line to the blank.

'You picked the wrong one.'

He'd never suspect.

'You might know this world better, but I know the real one you don't.'

'Think NPC tricks give you the edge? Wrong, Mirage Merchant. Witness a player's way.'

I stared at him.

"Kekeke, not hedging failure, but worrying about missing rewards? Overconfident or arrogant?"

He scoffed at my glance, then touched and lifted his hand from the document.

Woooong...!!

'What an absurd test.'

I let out a hollow laugh at the list. No clue what these meant—or even were.

'Designed for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠failure. And collecting them... Don't tell me he wants to make that.'

I frowned slightly.

'He only influences the world by selling items. But gathering these... '

"Oh, I forgot something."

As the document glowed, he pressed his temple like he'd just remembered.

"About that contract you just signed... "

He gently lifted my hand.

Words materialized on the once-blank parchment.

"Do you know the penalty for failure? Sorry, but you'll have to forfeit your life. Get it? Your fate's mine. Should've checked the contract type. Heh heh heh."

"L-Life?! What the hell!!"

Probably his desired reaction. But Nam-gung Yun was the one freaking out.

"I know."

"...?!"

"The Yeoneung Seoyakseo oath-taker yields life-and-death rights to the contractor upon failure. Refuse death? Become their slave. Right?"

"... You knew this document?"

His face hardened at my words. Seeing him rattled was amusing.

"Trade without knowing that?"