"Commissioner Skott, was it?" Feixiao had seen enough of the little exchange between the two and decided to get rid of him first.
"There are a dozen or so Trash Cans left. Even split between Lady Fu Xuan and myself, it hardly seems enough. Naturally, that leaves nothing for you."
"You may leave the Luofu now."
"Heh… leave the Luofu?" Skott forced a dry laugh. He knew his hopes of completing the mission were already slim, but he wasn't about to give up this fat piece of meat so easily.
Just ten minutes ago, this had been his for the taking—a prize served on a silver platter. Now, in the blink of an eye, it had become someone else's feast. Who could accept that? Who wouldn't curse themselves awake in the middle of the night?
"I recall the purchase limit states—ten per person per week, yes? And Boss Sylvester here stocks ten Trash Cans every day. If I can't buy them today, I'll buy them tomorrow. And if I can't, someone else will."
Feixiao no longer bothered to hide anything. "Today, the Six Charioteers convened to place minor restrictions on luxury goods. From now on, all such items must be purchased with personal assets."
"You—you're going to classify Trash Cans as luxury goods?!" Skott's face froze, though he immediately understood.
And that was exactly why his hatred now burned past the point of return. This truly left him no chance at all—not even to buy a few as token proof for the Interastral Peace Corporation. The law would strip even that away!
"Correct. By tomorrow at the latest, you'll see the statute yourself." Watching Skott grit his teeth, Feixiao thought he deserved it.
After all, the new law had no effect whatsoever on ordinary buyers of Curio Trash Cans. The only ones hurt would be forces like the Interastral Peace Corporation, who used underhanded means.
If anyone was limited by this law, it only proved the Xianzhou was in the right.
"Ding! Payment received: ten million credits. Payment received: six million credits."
Two electronic chimes sounded. Sylvester beamed from behind the counter. "Ladies, today's Trash Cans are all yours. Thank you for your patronage."
"Good. I've long wanted to try one of these cans myself—especially after hearing it could unseal something like… uh, the Zafkiel's Sixth Bullet." Feixiao strode toward the shelves, scanning the rows. She wanted the luckiest one, but the standardized cans all looked identical—without even a scratch to tell them apart.
After a bout of choice paralysis, she gave up and simply picked the first one in the top-left corner.
"Wait!"
Feixiao turned with annoyance. This detestable man again?
Fu Xuan's gaze was colder still. "Giving you advance notice of the law is already the greatest mercy. You should understand—if we had waited until tomorrow to announce it, we could have had you dragged to the Shackling Prison on the spot."
Skott's mind was already a storm of curses. But that was exactly why he had to speak. If he left empty-handed, he would certainly be demoted. His title of P30 Commissioner looked glorious—but every one of those he had schemed against was waiting with clenched teeth for him to fall.
And once he fell, they would bully him the same way he had bullied them.
No choice left. This was the final gamble. "You've all been deceived! His Trash Cans don't hold real Curios at all—just worthless junk!"
From the start, Skott had never believed anyone could produce such a flood of Curios, let alone sell them hidden inside Trash Cans. Such disregard for profit? To him, laughable.
"He's the one who belongs in the Shackling Prison." Skott jabbed a finger at Sylvester. "So many people paid exorbitant sums for useless scraps—he covers it up by calling it 'bad luck' and gets away with it? That's fraud! His ill-gotten wealth should be confiscated, and he should be punished to the full extent of the law!"
He spoke righteously, but the others saw through his scheme at a glance and ignored him.
However, Guinaifen noticed the livestream's comment feed had shifted.
[Paper Allergy: "I think this guy's a fraud too. For once, the Interastral Peace Corporation's right—Sylvester should refund all the money."]
[Cuckoo Clock Hater: "Exactly. He's scamming ordinary folks out of their hard-earned credits. I bet there are no Curios left in those cans!"]
"Everyone, look…"
The group huddled to glance at the comments, and their heads throbbed.
They hadn't expected Skott to be so troublesome. Even with the battle already lost, he still found a way to disgust Sylvester.
Skott, basking in the hostility aimed his way, laughed inwardly with glee.
Finally. Finally, I've won one!
By the end of the afternoon—between Fu Xuan and Feixiao—Sylvester had sold all eighty-eight Trash Cans. Most buyers hadn't recouped their investment.
And Skott knew exactly what that meant. Stirring the pot during the livestream had already borne fruit—but it wasn't enough. He would unleash every ounce of propaganda power at his disposal to fuel the flames.
Sylvester, was it? If the Interastral Peace Corporation couldn't have those Curios, then they would tarnish your name until no one bought from you again. If every Trash Can you put up went unsold—then his own failures would be offset, and he could go on strutting in the Interastral Peace Corporation's halls.
It was a fine plan. But Sylvester only felt like laughing.
Have you ever heard of the Golden Soft Pity system? That's the ultimate edge of a Trash Can's potential.
After seventy-two worthless blues and greens… the next pull could reach the stars.