[Good work, Host. You crossed the line in under one day. Time-Efficiency Bonus applied.]
[Ding!]
[Time-Efficiency Bonus: +150 EXP | +90 D-Coins]
[EXP: 900 / 1000]
[D-Coins: 249]
A rare, genuine smile tugged at Michael's lips—just for a second.
(That was quick. Faster than I planned…)
He checked the numbers again. One hundred ninety D-Coins in a single mission. At the current rate, that was over four and a half million euros.
190 × €24,000 = €4,560,000.
If things keep going like this, I'll be a billionaire soon.
Just then, the system screen popped up again.
[Ding!]
[New Mission Activated: #3]
Mission: Earn 1000 silver by selling your goods in Albham.
Copper and gold will be tallied in silver at standard rates (50 copper = 1 silver; 50 silver = 1 gold).
Time Limit: 6 days, 0 hours, 0 minutes
Reward: +800 EXP | Pocket Warehouse → Lv.2 | Reputation +3 | Skill: Appraise (Intermediate) → Lv.2
[Counter Initialized: 0 / 1000 silver]
[Timer: 6:00:00:00]
[Recommendation: Focus on matches and candles. Secure one wholesale buyer (inn, tavern, or caravan) to speed up the tally.]
Michael's eyes narrowed at the screen. No D-Coins in the reward? Just EXP, warehouse upgrade, reputation, and a skill upgrade?
Then a message came from the Sista:
[Host, I've already told you—you won't always receive D-Coins as a reward. So use the D-Coins you have carefully.]
Michael felt disappointed—his emotions like those of a child who had just lost interest in his favorite toy.
[Host, don't be so disappointed. Keep working hard; success will definitely come to you.]
Ugh, I know.
Soon it was afternoon, and Michael had already sold all the matchboxes he had. Since they could easily start a fire, they quickly became his best-selling item. Many people were even willing to pay two or three times the price for them but still had to leave empty-handed, as he had sold out completely. He promised to bring more matchboxes the next day.
However, that wasn't the case with the canned food. People still didn't have full trust in it. Although he managed to sell quite a few, half of the canned food still remained unsold.
Just when he was thinking that he should pack up these products and leave, someone approached his stall.
A tall woman draped in a black robe stopped in front of his stall. Her hood concealed her face, yet the graceful lines of her figure were striking enough to leave anyone captivated.
She first took a good look at Michael's products as if they were some kind of relics. Then she picked up a can.
"You're the one selling these?" she asked.
Michael nodded. "Yes, it's a preserved fish can. High in protein, lasts for months. Good for long voyages or sieges," he said in a slightly bored way because he wanted to leave soon.
She raised a thin brow. "Where, exactly, does this fish come from?"
Huh, again the same question.
[Host, you should handle your customer properly instead of getting irritated. According to my analysis, she seems interested in your product. As a seller, you should provide your customer with the necessary information about what you're selling.]
"Okay, okay, I get it. You don't need to say anything else."
"Huh? What do you mean?" the woman said, as if she couldn't understand why Michael reacted that way.
"Ah, umm… I mean those fish are from the south of the Endless Sea," Michael replied, calming himself. He'd collected plenty of information to back up his claims, just in case anyone asked. "My homeland has ways of preserving food without rot or decay. Ancient methods."
It wasn't a lie—not exactly. Just a diversion.
She studied him for a moment longer, then tapped the can with a manicured fingernail. "How does it taste?"
Michael didn't miss a beat. He took his knife, popped the can open with a satisfying hiss, and let her lean in to sniff it.
Her nose wrinkled—but not in disgust.
"Try it."
Unlike the other customers Michael had dealt with so far, she took a bite without the slightest hesitation, as if certain that nothing there could possibly harm her. She chewed slowly, then dabbed her lips with a silk handkerchief.
"…Not terrible. A bit bland, but edible." She set the can down carefully. "How much for all of those?"
Huh, all of those?
[Streetwise Instinct: No deception detected. Curiosity present. Risk: Low.]
Bingo.
[Host, according to my analysis, this is not an ordinary buyer. You should ask her for a higher price.]
Michael kept his face calm, but his brain was already crunching numbers.
[Negotiation (Basic) Activated — +10% price anchor success]
"If you want to take them all, I'll give you a special discount—one gold, and all yours."
A pause.
"Deal."
Damn. A rich customer. I should have asked for more.
The gold coin glittered in her gloved fingers for a second before landing on the board with a metallic clink.
Michael slid it into his pouch without hesitation. Business was business.
"Do you need me to deliver these somewhere?" he asked, already starting to pack all the cans into the cloth bags. There were fifty cans in total, so it was obvious she wouldn't be able to carry them all by herself—unless she had some kind of supernatural strength.
The woman smiled faintly, her hood still shadowing most of her face. "No need. I have men for this."
Men?
That single word rang louder in his head than it should have.
[Host, her behavior and confidence level suggest she holds a high social position. I detect no mana or anomalies. Possibly nobility—or someone with wealth and influence.]
"Hey, are you even listening to me?" the woman said, tilting her head slightly, her tone half-amused.
"Ah, yes—sorry. Got a little distracted," Michael said, stuffing all the cans into two cloth bags.
"You are a very strange person, just like your products," she chuckled softly. "So may I know your name?"
Michael paused for a beat. "It's Michael."
The woman nodded slowly, as if memorizing it. "Michael," she repeated. "I'll remember that name. I hope we meet again."
The woman turned to leave, but Michael called out to her, asking when her people would come to collect the goods—because he was planning to leave soon.
Before she could answer, two more hooded figures appeared in front of him, silently taking the cloth bags and walking away with her.
Michael blinked, startled. He hadn't even noticed them standing there all this time.
[Host, you didn't ask about them. Besides, they posed no threat to you. If they had been dangerous, I would have taken action automatically.]
Michael sighed under his breath. "Next time, maybe just mention it anyway."
[Noted.]