The rat demon held up a single, deliberate finger, a smug grin spreading across his whiskered face. "One million low-grade spirit stones."
"Are you out of your mind? That's insane," Hong Yu shot back, not missing a beat.
He took a slow, unbothered sip of his tea. "Fine. What's your offer?"
"Ten thousand," she said, her voice firm. "We'll take that Thunderstone off your hands for ten thousand low-grade spirit stones. Final offer."
The rat demon choked, spraying a fine mist of tea across the table. He sputtered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "What? Ten thousand?" He stared at her as if she'd grown a second head. The sheer audacity of it was staggering. He'd quoted a million, and she'd countered with one percent of his asking price.
That wasn't a lowball offer; it was an insult. He wasn't just taking a haircut; he was being scalped.
I just stood there, my own jaw on the floor, looking back and forth between them. I'd always heard that women were ruthless negotiators, but I never imagined Hong Yu, a snake demon, was a master of the craft. Countering a million with ten thousand? The thought had never even crossed my mind, let alone would I have had the guts to say it out loud. As a straight-shooting guy, my negotiation strategy was basically to pay whatever they asked and leave.
"Lady Snake, you drive a hard bargain," the rat demon said, forcing a pained smile. "For ten thousand stones, I couldn't sell you the dust off the box it came in." He leaned forward, trying to recover. "But, because you seem like serious buyers, I'll knock a little off the top. Nine hundred thousand, and it's yours."
A slow, knowing smile spread across Hong Yu's face.
"Manager, let's not play games," she said, her tone smooth as silk. "We did our homework before we came here. Thunderstones are rare, yes, but they're not particularly useful."
She leaned in, her voice dropping conspiratorially. "Only a handful of demon beasts have a very specific, very niche use for them. Frankly, most demons on the street have never even heard of a Thunderstone. What that means," she continued, "is that we are likely the only customers you'll have for this thing. We're your only ticket to offloading a piece of inventory that's probably been collecting dust for years."
She paused, letting the words hang in the air before delivering the final blow. "Otherwise," she said, her smile turning sharp, "it'll sit on your shelf until the end of time. Good luck moving it then."
The rat demon's composure finally cracked. He shifted uncomfortably, the forced smile vanishing from his face. He let out a dry, nervous cough. "Well, Lady Snake, it seems you know the market. Alright, you're a professional, I'll treat you like one. No more games. Five hundred thousand low-grade spirit stones. My real price."
"Not good enough. Fifty thousand," Hong Yu countered instantly.
"Impossible," he said, shaking his head frantically. "The lowest I can go is three hundred thousand."
Hong Yu shook her head right back. "Also impossible. I'll come up to eighty thousand."
"Three hundred thousand," the rat demon insisted, his voice strained. "Not a stone less. That's my bottom line. We're already losing money at that price!"
"Okay, I'll budge one last time," Hong Yu said, standing her ground. "Two hundred thousand. Take it or leave it."
"Leave it!" he snapped, his attitude hardening. "We can't even get them for that price. If you want it, it's three hundred thousand. If not, the door's to your right. Don't let it hit you on the way out."
"Fine by me," Hong Yu said, standing up without a moment's hesitation. She grabbed my arm and started pulling me toward the door.
My mind was reeling. Honestly, three hundred thousand sounded like a steal! We'd started at a million! I felt like we'd already won. If it had been me, I would have slammed the money on the table and been done with it. Yet here was Hong Yu, walking away completely unsatisfied.
She dragged me out of the Treasure Pavilion, my feet shuffling reluctantly.
"Hong Yu, I think that was a pretty good price," I said once we were outside. "I could have easily paid that."
"Shh, not a word," she whispered, glancing over her shoulder. "Just act like you couldn't care less. He's watching. He's going to crack."
"You sure about that?" I asked, skeptical.
"Trust me," she said with a wink. "I've done this before. The key is to look like you have all the power, like you don't need what he's selling."
"Alright," I sighed, squaring my shoulders.
We walked away with a purpose, not even glancing back at the shop. We made it a few hundred yards down the bustling market street when, just as she'd predicted, a frantic voice called out from behind us.
"Hey! Wait up, my esteemed guests!" The rat demon came jogging up, slightly out of breath. "Okay, you win! I give up! Forget three hundred thousand, but two hundred is still too low. Let's split the difference. Two hundred and fifty thousand low-grade spirit stones. My final, final, rock-bottom price. Deal or no deal?"
Hong Yu stopped and pretended to mull it over, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Hang on, I need to talk it over with my friend."
She pulled me aside, out of the rat demon's earshot.
"Okay," she whispered, her eyes darting around. "I think this is it. Two-fifty is probably his real bottom line. Any lower and he'll actually let us walk. Everything has a floor price, and I'd bet this is it for a Thunderstone of this quality."
"Two-fifty is great," I said immediately. "I have no problem with that at all."
Are you kidding me? I wouldn't have had a problem with a million. Hong Yu was a legend. She'd single-handedly haggled the price down by seventy-five percent. I had just witnessed a masterclass.
She led me back to the anxious rat demon, cleared her throat, and announced, "We've discussed it. We can accept your price of two hundred and fifty thousand." Then she added, "On one condition: you guarantee this stone is of the highest quality."
"My dear Lady Snake, please!" the rat demon cried, his relief palpable. "You know the Treasure Pavilion's reputation. It's solid gold!" He ushered us back toward the private room, his good mood fully restored.
Once we were seated again, Hong Yu leaned forward. "One more thing. If we were to buy in bulk, could you give us an additional discount?"
The color drained from the rat demon's face.
"My lady, I'm begging you, have mercy!" he pleaded, his hands clasped together. "This price is already slicing my margins to the bone. We are truly not making a profit on this deal!"
"Oh, please," Hong Yu scoffed. "I've never believed a merchant who claims they aren't making a profit. It's just a question of how much profit. So, no discount for a larger order? We might be interested in quite a few."
"Absolutely not!" he said, shaking his head. "The price is the price, no matter how many you buy. Honestly, if my boss finds out I sold it for this cheap, he'll have my hide!"
"Alright, alright. I won't torture you anymore," Hong Yu said, waving a dismissive hand.
The rat demon looked like a man who had just been pardoned from execution. "So," he asked, rubbing his hands together eagerly, "how many Thunderstones do you need?"
Hong Yu didn't answer. She just looked at me.
I considered it for a moment, then turned to the rat demon. "Just how many do you have?"
"We have five total," the rat demon explained, "all of them this size and quality."
I nodded, processing. I opened a private channel to my internal system.
System, is five going to be enough?
Negative, the system's reply was instantaneous and clinical. You require a minimum of five additional fist-sized Thunderstones to meet operational parameters.
I sighed internally. Of course.
"Alright," I said to the rat demon. "Bring out the other four. I'm buying your entire stock."
"Excellent!" he beamed, scurrying out of the room. He returned a moment later with four more ornate boxes. Inside each was a brilliant blue, fist-sized Thunderstone, humming with latent energy. The quality was undeniable.
"So, esteemed guest," he said, practically glowing. "Are you satisfied?"
"Very," I confirmed.
"Wonderful! Then let's settle the bill," he said, rubbing his palms together. "That's five Thunderstones at two hundred and fifty thousand low-grade spirit stones each, for a total of one million, two hundred and fifty thousand low-grade stones." He added, "Or, if you prefer, one hundred twenty-five thousand mid-grade stones."
The conversion rate in the cultivation world was a standard hundred-to-one. One hundred low-grade stones got you one mid-grade, one hundred mid-grade got you one high-grade, and so on.
"I don't have that many mid-grade stones," I said plainly. "And I don't carry low-grade ones."
The rat demon's cheerful expression froze. For a second, he looked like he was about to shout for the guards.
"However," I continued, letting him sweat for a moment, "I do have high-grade spirit stones. By my math, that comes out to one thousand, two hundred and fifty of them, correct?"
"Yes! Of course, yes!" The tension left his body in a rush. "You nearly gave me a heart attack! I thought you were trying to pull a fast one."
I just chuckled and reached for the simple leather pouch at my hip—a habit I'd picked up from the other Demon Generals around the city. It was far more civilized than the old way of swallowing valuables for safekeeping, which was not only inconvenient but, frankly, a little disgusting. I counted out the gleaming, high-grade stones, their ambient energy warming the air. Transactions of this size were almost always done in mid or high-grade stones; low-grade currency was for the small-timers.
After stowing my new Thunderstones in my pouch, I looked up. "These five won't be enough. Any idea when you might get more in?"
He hesitated. "It's… unlikely to be anytime soon."
"Why's that?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Two reasons," he said. "First, these things are just genuinely hard to find. We had to source this batch from several different cities over a long period. But the second reason," he sighed, "is the more important one. Just like your friend said, there's almost no market for them. To be perfectly honest with you, these five stones have been sitting in our vault for over twenty years."
He leaned in, his voice low. "If we weren't so desperate to get them off our books, I never would have sold them for so little. But you got a hell of a deal. They're large, pure, and will serve you well."
I nodded. "Your Treasure Pavilion has a wide reach. If you happen to stumble across more, I want you to buy them for me. I'm staying on Green Snake Street. Send word if you find anything."
"You can count on it," the rat demon promised. "I'll keep my ears open."
With our business concluded, he personally escorted us out. Hong Yu then gave me a tour of the rest of the underground market, a sprawling bazaar filled with rare and often illicit treasures, each, she claimed, with a bloody history.
After we'd seen enough, we emerged back onto the city streets and went our separate ways.
Back in the quiet of my own home, I finally let myself relax. After a short rest, I unrolled the map of the Red Desert and spread it across my table.
System, mark the locations of all remaining bandit factions in the region.
Query, the system responded. What is the host's objective?
Isn't it obvious? I thought. I'm going to liquidate them—their operations and their assets. Everything I need to do now—gain experience, earn points for the exchange, buy materials—it all requires a massive amount of spirit stones. My current funds are a drop in the bucket.
A grim smile touched my lips.
Those bandits are sitting on fortunes, and they're all murderers and thieves. Taking them out comes with zero moral baggage. It's time to go hunting.
Acknowledged, the system replied. Marking extended territories now.
Five minutes later, I was gone, a shadow slipping out of Flying Sand City's gates.
For the next several weeks, I became a whirlwind of destruction in the desert, moving from one bandit stronghold to the next, leaving nothing but silence in my wake. It wasn't long before a new legend began to spread through the criminal underworld, a whispered tale told in hushed, fearful tones.
They spoke of a crazy snake demon. A demon who, despite being only in the early Demon Core Realm, fought with the ferocity of a peak-level General, tearing through defenses and cutting down anyone who stood in his way. After the slaughter, he would vanish, taking every last spirit stone with him.
At first, many crews dismissed the stories as campfire tales. They paid for their disbelief with their lives, their entire operations wiped out overnight, leaving no survivors to tell the tale.
Panic set in. Faced with a predator they couldn't fight, the bandits did the only thing they could: they ran. They packed up their camps and fled to distant, safer lands, disappearing from the region entirely.
As a result, an unexpected peace settled over the desert. The trade caravans could now travel without fear. But for me, it meant the hunt was over.
The bandits were all gone. And I was running out of prey.