After enduring until the end of school,
Ryan drove to a black market in the city.
A black market is a place where gray-area transactions happen.
Over 90% of the goods traded here are of dubious origin, like items looted by "brothers" during "zero-dollar shopping sprees."
These items usually end up for sale here. Though the sources are questionable, the prices are incredibly low—half or even a third of retail prices.
Buying goods here also means you don't have to worry about being scammed or robbed.
The sellers are usually local power players, so if what you just bought gets stolen, someone will help you get it back.
Some stores even offer pre-order services.
Customers can pick out the goods they like, and professional "brothers" will go on zero-dollar shopping trips to stock up.
In short, it's a magical place.
Even more impressive is that this place has been around for over a decade.
Yet, it has never been shut down by the authorities.
This makes you wonder if the upper echelons of Country are deliberately fueling the conflict between the lower and middle classes.
They're encouraging this kind of behavior.
They divert the lower class's resentment toward the middle class and sacrifice some of the middle class's interests to satisfy the lower class's needs.
In theory, as long as these two classes are at odds, the power structure at the top becomes more secure.
It's a simple tactic, but an effective one.
The lower class struggles to survive, so they go on zero-dollar shopping sprees at stores.
The stores buy insurance from insurance companies and get compensated.
The insurance companies collect hefty premiums and always come out ahead.
On the surface, no one loses.
However, if you think about it more carefully, it's absurd.
In the past, crimes such as robbery and theft were punished as felonies, which served as a deterrent.
However, a few years ago, some states began legalizing zero-dollar shopping.
California, the most lenient state on this issue, declared that "zero-dollar shopping" under $950 wouldn't be prosecuted.
The state even prohibited store owners and employees from stopping "zero-dollar shoppers." If anyone got hurt or faced legal consequences for trying to stop the shoppers, the responsibility would fall entirely on the store owners and employees.
This caused the rate of zero-dollar shopping to skyrocket.
In just a few years, many insurance companies and stores went bankrupt because of it.
Ryan feels like if this keeps up, the country won't be far from civil unrest.
But what does that have to do with him?
Even if World War III breaks out, it won't affect him.
Firearms, drugs...
Groups of "brothers" with big gold chains and flashy watches get high together. There are even streetwalkers in skimpy outfits soliciting customers on street corners.
He even spotted a couple of desperate men and women high out of their minds going at it in a dark alleyway.
A crowd gathered to watch the spectacle, and soon the number of combatants grew from two to five.
Ryan had truly seen it all now.
Just glancing at the rotund woman involved in the fray stung his eyes. He quickly averted his gaze; any longer, and he feared he would get an eye infection.
Moving past the chaotic scene, Ryan arrived at a store called "Papa's Armory."
Stepping inside, he was immediately blinded by the glare of polished steel. Rows of cold weapons lined the walls, their edges gleaming like mirrors under the harsh lights.
"What'll it be?"
A shirtless, sweat-drenched, middle-aged Chinese man emerged from the back, puffing on a cigar. Still holding a hammer, he wiped his brow with his forearm before grabbing a beer from the counter and chugging half of it. His eyes finally settled on Ryan.
"I need weapons," Ryan said, scanning the arsenal with interest.
"Weapons? Plural?"
The shop owner raised an eyebrow. Most customers bought one or two pieces as collectibles. Bulk orders were rare.
"Everything's here. Pick what you want. But fair warning—my stuff ain't cheap," he said, gesturing lazily at the walls. "It might break your wallet."
Ryan nodded and began browsing.
Soon, he realized something peculiar: these weapons looked familiar.
There was a spiral greatsword with a charred black blade and crimson, ember-like patterns.
A menacing broadsword with a goat skull pommel whose eyes glowed faintly.
- Twin cleaver-like short swords linked by a chain.
- An ornate silver longsword.
"Bonfire Greatsword... Frostmourne... Chaos Blades... Silver Sword..."
Ryan's lips twitched. "Yamato, Hidden Blade, Leviathan Axe, Rebellion, Buster Sword, Ebony & Ivory, Vampire Killer..."
"Damn. You've got everything."
The shop owner was clearly a fellow gamer. Every weapon was an almost perfect replica of iconic video game weapons—the craftsmanship was impeccable and the details were flawless.
Ryan even spotted a full set of Penetrator Armor and an Eternal Fortress Shield at the back.
His gaze at the owner grew increasingly complicated.
This guy's interests are...eclectic.
"Don't look at me like that," the owner grumbled. "Gotta make a living."
His family had been blacksmiths for generations, and he loved the trade. But in this era? Few bought cold steel when bullets existed.
So he'd made a choice: betray his ancestors' traditions.
Instead of making classic weapons, he crafted replicas of fantasy and video game armaments and sold them at premium prices to collectors. Business boomed tenfold.
At least he wouldn't starve.
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