Chapter 6: Value Isn’t Always Measured in Gold
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 6: Value Isn’t Always Measured in Gold
“Don’t worry. While the color is indeed a bit... striking, it becomes completely undetectable once you mix it into something like red wine.”
Noticing Muen’s concern, the shopkeeper explained patiently:
“And compared to the minor flaw of it not being very discreet, its advantages are far greater. Just a single drop is enough to leave even an elephant weak in the knees, slumped on the ground.”
Muen’s eyes lit up. “That powerful?”
“Of course. You get what you pay for. I’ve always run a small, honest business—fair prices for all, young or old.”
The shopkeeper boasted for a moment before extending a pair of excessively fair, slender hands toward Muen and the other black-robed figure. With a chuckle, she said:
“That will be one hundred and thirty thousand Emiels. No haggling, no credit. Thank you.”
“One hundred and thirty thousand...”
Muen’s eye twitched slightly.
Emiels were the universal currency of this world, and their purchasing power was roughly equivalent to the RMB from Muen’s previous life.
He realized then that the shopkeeper’s talk of a "small, honest business" was pure nonsense. Who on earth sold a bottle of knockout potion for a hundred and thirty thousand!
Fortunately, he was still the all-powerful son of a Duke. A mere hundred and thirty thousand was nothing to him.
“Will that be card or cash?”
The shopkeeper rubbed her hands together with a hint of excitement. It wasn't often she encountered two suckers at the same time; naturally, she had to fleece them for all they were worth.
“Card.”
Muen tossed his crystal card onto the counter with the casual air of the nouveau riche. A crystal card of his rank came with high-level security measures, so he wasn't worried about his identity being exposed.
“Coming right up.”
The shopkeeper skillfully swiped the card for one hundred and thirty thousand Emiels. She then pulled a small vial from a nearby shelf and presented it with both hands, along with his crystal card.
“Safe travels, Young Master. This is a little gift for you.”
“A gift? What is it?”
“Hehe, a little mystery keeps things interesting, doesn't it? But I suggest using it alongside that knockout potion. It’ll have... miraculous effects.”
“Miraculous effects?”
Does it boost the potency?
Muen frowned. Knowing little about magic potions, he didn't give it much thought. He tucked both vials into his pocket and prepared to leave.
Meanwhile, having collected Muen’s payment, the shopkeeper turned her gaze toward the other black-robed figure.
“And you, guest? Card or cash?”
“I do not have enough Emiels, nor do I intend to pay with them.”
The black-robed figure spoke these dangerous words in a calm tone. Hearing this, Muen couldn't help but stop in his tracks, casting a curious glance back.
Was there actually someone bold enough to commit a daylight robbery in a place like the underground black market?
“Oh? And what does the guest mean by that...?” As expected, a chilling coldness seeped from beneath the shopkeeper’s hood.
“I have no money, but I can sell you a piece of information.”
“One hundred and thirty thousand is no small sum.”
“This information is worth every bit of it.”
The black-robed figure handed the shopkeeper a slip of paper. “To the right person, it is worth far more than a hundred and thirty thousand.”
“Oh?”
Though her face was hidden, Muen could imagine the shopkeeper raising an eyebrow in curiosity.
“Interesting.”
The shopkeeper took the paper, unfolded it, and scanned the contents rapidly.
For a split second, Muen felt as if the very air had frozen.
“My, my. This is quite something.”
The shopkeeper looked up at the black-robed figure, her tone now carrying a hint of gravity.
“Are you certain this information is authentic?”
“With your resources, shopkeeper, you can verify it in an instant.”
“...You certainly are trusting. But as you said, this information is indeed worth a hundred and thirty thousand.”
The shopkeeper tossed a vial of knockout potion to the black-robed figure. “Take it. It’s yours.”
The figure caught the potion and, remaining as silent as ever, turned and left without another word.
Cold and efficient, like a machine.
Muen hadn't even fully processed what had happened. His gaze lingered instinctively on that slip of paper.
What kind of information could be worth a hundred and thirty thousand?
“Oh? Is the Young Master interested in this information as well? Why don't I sell it to you too? Since we’re practically old friends now, I’ll give you a discount. Just this much.”
The shopkeeper held up nine slender fingers to indicate the price.
“Ninety thousand?”
“Hehe, you’re quite the joker, Young Master. My shop would go bankrupt at ninety thousand.”
The shopkeeper paused, then said:
“Nine hundred thousand Emiels.”
“...”
Muen’s lip twitched. He ignored the shopkeeper, turned on his heel, and walked away.
She had scammed someone with a knockout potion of unknown value to get that information, and now she wanted to sell it for nine hundred thousand?
As expected, the woman was a pure, unadulterated shady merchant.
*
“My, my. This really is something.”
After Muen left, the shopkeeper continued to stare at the information on the paper.
She had already lowered her hood. Her willow-thin eyebrows were arched high, as if caught in a breeze.
“Tomorrow was supposed to be nothing more than the coming-of-age ceremony for Duke Campbell’s worthless son. But if this information gets out, things are going to get very interesting, very quickly.”
“Now, who should I sell this to? The Second Prince seems like a good choice; he’s always loathed his overachieving little sister. Given his status, asking for two million shouldn't be excessive.”
“And that old fox, Duke Raymond, will certainly be very interested as well.”
“Oh dear, double-dipping... I really am a bad girl, aren't I?”
The shopkeeper rested her cheek in her hand with a look of mock distress, though her lips curled into a charming, soul-stirring smile.
“But then again, there’s no rule saying information can only be sold to one person, is there?”
*
“Young Master Muen.”
When Muen returned to the Duke’s estate, he happened to run into An, who had just finished her busy rounds.
“How is it? Is the matter with the maids settled?”
“It has been handled. The Head Maid will be recruiting throughout the night, and the staff has been reassigned. There should be no issues with manpower tomorrow.”
“That’s good. With the schedule so tight, you’ve all worked hard.” Muen nodded.
“No, it was our failure to make the proper arrangements in advance. We have caused you unnecessary worry, Young Master.” An bowed in apology.
“There’s no need for that. It’s only right that I look out for these things.”
Muen waved his hand, signaling for An to stand straight.
“You should get some rest early, too. There won't be any time for breaks tomorrow.”
“But I still need to attend to you, Young Master...”
“No need. I’m not a child who needs constant supervision. Besides, I plan on turning in early tonight myself.”
Without giving An a chance to respond, Muen turned and headed straight for his room.
It was better for him to be alone tonight. The sins he was destined to bear shouldn't be shared by another innocent soul.
“...”
Left behind, An watched Muen’s receding back. The lingering doubt in her eyes grew deeper and more intense.
“How strange.”
An bit her lip instinctively as she pondered.
She didn't even notice when blood began to seep from her lip, dripping onto the white collar of her maid uniform. She simply stared fixedly at Muen’s silhouette until he vanished from sight.
“Young Master Muen... since when did you become so gentle?”