"A long-term contract?"
If someone had made this proposal two days ago, right when the shop had just opened, Sylvester would have been overjoyed.
After all, having people come pick up trash cans every day was just a matter of minutes. Compared to sitting in the shop all day, that was a truly relaxing job with plenty of pay.
But now, given his relationship with the Xianzhou, if he let the Interastral Peace Corporation monopolize the trash cans, it would only invite endless trouble. Countless people would line up wanting to "have a cup of tea" with him.
What's more, Sylvester's trash cans had no trouble selling at all. Every morning, customers came early to squat at his doorstep, snatching them all up the moment he opened.
If not for certain customers who performed strange rituals, requested confidentiality, needed comforting for bad luck, or wanted explanations about the effects of the Curios, the whole process wouldn't even take an hour. He was already more than free.
So, this so-called long-term contract was not just useless—it wasn't even icing on the cake.
Sylvester shook his head at Aventurine. "I'm sorry, Mr. Aventurine. The people of the Xianzhou have shown great support for my shop. I cannot allow the Curio Trash Cans to be monopolized by any single organization or individual."
The crowd of onlookers let out a sigh of relief. Thankfully, the opportunity was still there for them.
The rejection was already quite clear, but Aventurine did not give up. Or rather, he wasn't naïve enough to think that today, in the Xianzhou Luofu, he could seize control of this shop with just a few words.
The day before yesterday, Skott's behavior had already soured the company's dealings with both the Xianzhou and Sylvester.
Not only were the expected profits completely gone, but the embarrassment from the livestream had caused the company's Luofu branch stock to plummet. If things continued, it would become a negative asset that would need to be liquidated.
So, to salvage the situation, the Ten Stonehearts discussed and agreed on two strategies. The first was this long-term contract—the ideal outcome.
The second was to use Aventurine's natural luck to secure for the company a powerful Curio comparable to the Luofu's gains.
To ensure the plan's success, Aventurine had not only combed through mountains of information but also secured from the company authorization for the highest budget multiplier—up to one hundredfold—meaning a staggering one hundred million credits for a single trash can.
Thus, he was utterly confident he could achieve one of the two goals.
"Haha. Perhaps Boss Sylvester has misunderstood the company's intentions. We have no desire to make things difficult for you."
Aventurine stepped into the shop, sat down in the chair before the counter, and pulled out a document.
"This is the contract. Boss Sylvester, you can look it over carefully. We have no wish to deprive the people of the Xianzhou. The exact number of trash cans sold each day—you can decide that yourself."
"And the price, we can discuss further. Business is about money, after all. Whether it's double, triple, even five times the price—it's all within my authority. Name your price freely."
Aventurine spoke generously, showing what seemed like genuine sincerity. Each increase was in multiples rather than percentages. But little did anyone know—this was only the opening move.
He knew well the art of "asking sky-high, settling mid-ground." He would start tugging with Sylvester at single-digit multiples, and once he figured out Sylvester's bottom line, he would hammer him with a tenfold offer. At that point, no one could resist the temptation.
Sylvester skimmed the contract, not giving any direct response.
Not because he was tempted, but because Aventurine was not someone easily dismissed.
Back in Penacony, he had bantered freely with Dr. Veritas Ratio—and it was one-sided banter. The Doctor cursed him as a damned gambler, while Aventurine kept calling him "Professor Ratio" with affectionate familiarity. That alone showed his unnerving resilience.
And Dr. Veritas Ratio was no beauty either, which ruled out the possibility of a "voice-crush syndrome."
Later, he even withstood Sunday's Harmony power, just to confirm the existence of the "dream's depths," and endured a slash from Blade. A man like this simply never gave up until he achieved his goal.
So, Sylvester decided to use a special approach.
"This contract… isn't entirely impossible. But as for the pricing, I have some of my own ideas."
"Please, go ahead," Aventurine replied with a calm smile, unfazed.
A million credits per trash can—how much higher could it go? If there was something even the company couldn't afford, it could only mean the seller never intended to sell in the first place.
But Aventurine underestimated Sylvester's imagination.
Sylvester had been waiting for this moment. With a broad grin, he said, "Have you ever heard the story of placing grains of wheat on a chessboard? Oh, you haven't? Well, you're about to."
"I've decided to price the trash cans on a progressive scale. Simply put—the first one is one million, the second four million, the third twenty-seven million… let's say, n to the power of n, multiplied by a million. Got it? I may have dropped out young and don't have a diploma, but as a company executive, surely your education isn't lacking. You understand, right?"
"U-understand," Aventurine's smiling face stiffened.
Understand my ass!
What kind of ridiculous pricing was this?!
Selling trash cans with progressive pricing? What were you before, an electric company employee?
And what kind of "progression" was this? Each step wasn't just higher, it was exponentially higher. Was climbing stairs in his house like taking one step, then jumping, then crawling on all fours? Why not just install an elevator already?!
Sylvester smacked his forehead, as if remembering something. "Oh, right. Starting tomorrow, my shop will stock twenty trash cans each day. Let's make tomorrow the first experiment. Buy all twenty to test your strength, then decide if you want to sign a contract."
"Test your strength…" Aventurine's composure finally cracked.
This wasn't "testing strength." This was testing whether the company could survive bankruptcy. He might as well have said that Sylvester wanted to directly become the company's chairman.
Aventurine quickly calculated on his phone—the twentieth trash can came out to a 26-digit figure, not even counting the extra million multiplier. This wasn't an astronomical number anymore—it was a physics number. Apart from Professor Ratio, he'd never seen anyone deal with numbers of this magnitude.
Even if the company liquidated all immovable and long-term assets, it would still fall short.
Aventurine's elegance and composure were shattered to pieces.
He bitterly regretted giving this man free rein to name a price.
What power in the entire universe would believe that the Interastral Peace Corporation—the ultimate embodiment of profit—would purchase something at hundredfold its value in bulk?
Any other faction would think the company's executives had gone collectively insane.
But here, Sylvester's price wasn't even something one could say out loud.
He had thought this was a rich man strolling into a discount store, buying whatever he pleased.
Instead, it was Grandma wandering into Cybertron, unable to even find the door out.
Since joining the company, Aventurine had never once encountered such an absurd demand. Anywhere else, negotiations would have ended here, and the company's warships would be deployed next.
But against this unyielding block of stone in front of him…
Aventurine truly couldn't think of a way forward.
As he fretted over the sudden collapse of his plan, he saw Sylvester's eyes dart mischievously.
His heart sank. No way… is he about to make an even stranger demand?
"You… what are you planning?" Aventurine stared warily at Sylvester.
Sylvester, seeing Aventurine flustered, knew his tactic had worked.
He wasn't just doing this to sabotage the company's plan, but also to give them a warning shot—to stop them from sending oddballs like Skott to play games again.
Rubbing his nose, Sylvester said, looking rather embarrassed, "So, uh… is Ms. Topaz busy these days?"