"Since this shop has opened, the number of Purple-rarity Curios that had appeared could be counted on one hand. Ms. Jade, your luck is extraordinary."
Though your colleagues in the IPC may find themselves… just a little less fortunate.
Sylvester smiled lightly. "This Curio is called the [Truth Chair]. Anyone who sits on it must answer every question, and their words will always be true."
At his words, Jade's eyes widened. She stared intently at the plain wooden chair, shock written across her face.
It looked utterly ordinary, the kind of chair one might overlook in a corner of the shop.
But its ability was anything but ordinary—especially for someone in her line of work. The convenience it offered was immeasurable.
Anyone seeking IPC funding exaggerated their worth to secure larger investments.
And though the Strategic Investment Department was far from naive, verifying those claims through multiple intelligence channels was a costly endeavor.
Intelligence was never cheap—particularly for a galactic conglomerate with cashflow on a cosmic scale.
Even then, some clients were skilled enough to keep their secrets buried, leaving the IPC footing the losses. Otherwise, bad debt would not exist.
Up until now, Jade had considered maintaining that sprawling intelligence network worthwhile. It had saved the IPC uncountable sums.
But this chair? This one chair could render much of it obsolete.
If it can make people tell the truth… in the battlefield of business, it's a dimensional strike, no less devastating than a Stellaron to a primitive world.
And beyond that—there was its second, more insidious use: testing loyalty.
A universal headache for every power in the cosmos.
The human heart was unknowable. But now… it could be known.
Jade's eyes narrowed as she studied the chair with predatory interest. "What if the one sitting refuses to speak at all?"
"Silence isn't possible—they'll be compelled to speak," Sylvester said firmly. Then he shrugged. "Of course, if someone forcibly sealed their own mouth, that's different. But surely the IPC wouldn't be stymied by such a trivial obstacle?"
Her eyes gleamed. She was staring at him, but her gaze had long since turned inward.
She remembered past clients who had tried—or succeeded—in cheating the IPC. A hunter's smile curved her lips.
"Of course. Even if someone bit off their tongue, our doctors would stitch it back on—so they could speak their mind."
The last three words landed heavy with menace.
Sylvester didn't bother appealing to her better nature. The chair might surpass any lie detector, but there was only one. Even if run around the clock, it couldn't vet more than a fraction of the IPC's clients. Only the most critical individuals would ever 'enjoy' such treatment.
And those people? Hardly his concern.
He quipped, half in jest: "Does Ms. Jade not wish to try the chair herself?"
Jade smiled. "Is Shopkeeper Sylvester eager to hear what lies in my heart?"
Oh-ho, kicking the ball back to me?
"If Ms. Jade truly wishes to share, I would be honored to listen," Sylvester replied smoothly.
"How unfortunate. My mind is full of company affairs. Though I trust Shopkeeper Sylvester to keep his lips sealed, should anything slip, it would harm our relationship. Best not to trouble you with that."
A flawless reply.
Sylvester didn't press further—it had only been a joke. Secrets of the Interastral Peace Corporation held no interest for him. As for Jade's personal secrets…
His gaze swept her striking figure, then he shook his head.
She was far too shrewd to reveal herself so easily.
He raised a hand. "There remains one last Trash Can. Please go ahead."
Originally, Jade had intended to open it alongside the previous batch. But the sudden appearance of a purple Curio had drawn her focus away.
Now, truthfully, her excitement had dulled.
Sylvester understood. Just like gacha players—after pulling something rare, no one expected another prize immediately after.
This last Trash Can felt like a mere afterthought.
Outside, however, the two customers were fidgeting with anticipation.
If Jade had pulled a purple Curio, maybe this batch really was high-quality?
What if destiny changes for us right here?
Jade lifted the final lid.
With all she had already gained, even green light would be acceptable.
But in that instant, brilliance spilled forth once again.
Another wave of purple light filled the shop.
The two men outside nearly clawed their eyes out.
Again?!
"HEY!" One of them hurled his phone to the ground, only to realize a second later what he'd done.
"My phone! That was the newest model!" He cradled the shattered device, but his grief for it was nothing compared to the envy consuming him.
What's a phone worth? With a purple Curio, I could buy a new one every day—play ten at once if I wanted! A lifetime of luxury—ruined, all because I grabbed a quick million credits!
But Jade herself was not jubilant.
She stared at the bizarre object in her hands, mind full of question marks.
At least the last one had been recognizable as a chair. This… she couldn't even identify the form.
Dozens of metallic-looking spheres, entwined by a golden coil, each marked with lightning-shaped symbols.
Some kind of ultra-modern art piece?
"[Devil Fruit]."
Before Jade could even ask, Sylvester spoke first.
"Fruit?" The name instantly caught her attention.
A purple Curio, with such a peculiar name—could this be the battle-oriented Curio she had longed for?
The [Truth Chair] was invaluable, but what the IPC truly prized was combat power.
Yet this… this hardly looked edible.
A fruit? More like something a demon would eat.
Recalling the literal nature of the last Curio's name, Jade felt a flicker of unease.
"That's right—a fruit," Sylvester confirmed. "Ms. Jade, you'll be able to boast to Mr. Aventurine when you return. With this, your luck is truly remarkable. If the IPC ever wages a full-scale interstellar war, feed this to someone strong enough, and the battle won't even need to be fought."
"So powerful?!"
Jade's pupils contracted sharply. She believed him without hesitation—Shopkeeper Sylvester's Curios had never failed to live up to their description.
But if he wasn't exaggerating, then this purple Curio… possessed power enough to decide the outcome of an entire war?!
[Jiki Jiki no Mi: Grants control over magnetism and electricity, allowing manipulation of all metallic objects. Can generate magnetic fields to magnetize metals and freely command them. With sufficient scientific knowledge, the user can even assemble complex machinery. Magnetic repulsion can also hurl objects away with force. When activated, the user's hands emit purple sparks. (Note:Adapted to this universe's laws, the fruit's strength scales with the eater's Path power.)]