Since Michael's products were a little different, they attracted the attention of many people.
After the first customer left, another man stopped in front of Michael's stall.
"What've you got there, human?" asked a dwarf, half-armored, with a bow on his back and a skeptical gleam in his eye.
Michael put on his best salesman smile.
The dwarf picked up one of the small boxes and examined it.
"Is this… paper? What is this, some kind of art?"
"Not art," Michael said, picking up a matchbox.
"They're called matches. The stick inside is used to make fire."
Many people in this world still used stones to start fires, which made it very difficult to do so. Although magic could be used to start a fire, it was limited to the wealthy. The magical items used for fire-starting were very expensive, beyond the reach of ordinary householders or novice adventurers. They were also cumbersome to carry due to their size.
"Matches? Never heard of 'em. How's that little twig supposed to make fire?"
"Look at this. If you rub the tip of this stick against the rough sandpaper of the box—"
Michael pulled a matchstick from the box and struck it against the side. With a hiss and a spark, it flared to life—sudden and bright, like a captured lightning bolt.
"See that?" He held it close, not too near, letting the heat dance in the dwarf's face.
The dwarf flinched backward, eyes wide.
"Wh-what in the blazing hells was that?!"
Michael struck the match, and the tiny flame flared to life between them.
The dwarf's bushy eyebrows shot up, his thick fingers twitching as if to snatch the fire from the air. Around them, the murmur of the marketplace dipped—heads turned, curious eyes drawn to the flickering light.
Good. Attention meant sales.
The dwarf recovered quickly, leaning in with a skeptical squint. "No flint? No sparkstone? Just… this little stick? Are you a wizard?"
"Of course not. It's just simple chemistry," Michael confirmed. He blew out the flame before it could singe his fingers and held up the matchbox. "There is no magic. And it's cheap enough that even a rookie adventurer won't go broke buying them."
"Ah, hmm, that's true too. If you were a wizard, you definitely wouldn't be sitting here selling these."
From what Michael had managed to gather since arriving here, wizards were considered of very high status in this world. Since so few people could use magic, only one in a thousand possessed the ability at all.
And even then, most of them were only lower-ranked wizards who could perform basic spells. An intermediate or special-class wizard was as rare as one in ten or even twenty thousand.
That was why the bandits had been so afraid of him, and why that man and his daughter had treated him with such respect.
The dwarf snatched the box from his hand, turning it over with thick, calloused fingers. His nose wrinkled at the faint sulfur smell, but his eyes gleamed with interest. "How many fires per box?"
"Fifty."
A grunt. "And the price?"
"Five copper a box."
The dwarf's eyes narrowed. "That's robbery."
Michael shrugged. "Compare it to what you'd spend on flint and tinder over a month. Or a fire-starting charm from a mage—how much does that cost?"
The dwarf's scowl deepened, but Michael could see the calculation behind it. Fire-starting magic was a luxury item, priced in silver, not copper. Even good flint and steel wore out eventually. Matches? Disposable. Reliable. Fast.
"…Fine. I'll take three boxes." The dwarf slapped down fifteen copper coins with more force than necessary. "But if these fail me in a damp cave, I'm coming back to break your nose."
Michael grinned. "Fair enough."
Word spread quickly.
Adventurers, always wary of damp kindling and unreliable flint, bought matches in bulk. A grizzled ranger tested one immediately, nodding in approval when it lit on the first strike. A harried housewife, her arms full of groceries, bought two boxes after seeing a demonstration. "Gods know my husband can never start the hearth properly," she muttered.
But not everyone was convinced.
A gruff miner, his face streaked with soot, squinted at the tiny sticks. "They work underwater?"
Michael shook his head. "No. But neither does flint."
The miner grunted and walked away.
[Mission Progress: 31/100]
Then there were the skeptics. One man, his robes marking him as a local priest, recoiled when a match flared too brightly.
"Demon sticks!" he hissed, making a warding sign. "No natural fire burns so quick!"
Michael utterly despised people like that—ignorant, superstitious fools. However, Sista had warned him to control his anger. After all, as a merchant, he couldn't afford to treat customers badly. And besides, this was his first day. So, he barely kept his face neutral.
The priest wasn't the only one glaring. The fire-stone seller two stalls over had been watching Michael with increasing hostility. Fire-starting items were his bestsellers—small vials of alchemical paste that ignited when exposed to air.
Now, Michael was undercutting him.
The man's jaw tightened as another customer bypassed his stall entirely, heading straight for the matches.
Tough luck, buddy, Michael thought. This is business.
Still, he kept an eye out. Enemies in the market could be more dangerous than monsters in a dungeon.
[Mission Progress: 73/100]
The matches sold well. The canned food? Not so much.
"Preserved corpse-meat?" one elf asked, wrinkling her nose at a tin of tuna. "That's what this is, yes?"
Michael forced a smile. "Fish. Caught across the seas. Preserved by methods that don't require salt or smoke."
She didn't buy, but a few curious souls did. Most asked the same questions: What was inside? How long did it last? Was it safe to eat? How did he do that? etc.
Michael had answers.
By midday, Michael's voice was hoarse from the same five sentences. He didn't mind. The pile on the table was lower. The coin pouch was heavier. He kept his posture the same—arms loose, eyes level, a small smile.
More and more curious people came and bought—mostly drawn by the low price—and in the end, he finally got exactly what he wanted.
[Mission Progress: 123/100]
[Ding!]
The blue text flashed across his sight.
[Mission Complete]
[Reward Granted] [+500 EXP]
[+100 D-Coins]
[Reputation +3]
[New Skill Unlocked: Negotiation (Basic) — Improves bargaining and closing odds. +10% success on price anchors. Stacks with Business Sense]
[EXP: 750 / 1000]
[Level Up!] [Level: 3]