The fat collector, whose name was Fatty Ma, took a step back. His eyes, nearly swallowed by the folds of his face, were locked onto the blue vial.
"Divine Essence?" he laughed, his voice like sandpaper scraping stone. "Don't take me for an idiot, Han Seo-jun. No one in this city owns a treasure like that. Least of all a starving wretch like you."
Ma gestured to his Level 2 guards. The men drew their sabers. The air in the room grew heavy.
"One more step," I said, raising the vial over the carpet, "and the Golden Fang Guild loses its best retirement plan."
It hurt just to breathe, but my voice did not shake.
"Prove it," Ma challenged. "Repair that Lin family scrap in front of me. If you fail, I won't just take your leg. I'll take your tongue for lying."
The System flared across my vision.
> [PRECISION ALERT]
> Due to Credit Fatigue, your hands will begin trembling in 60 seconds.
> System Advice: Be fast. Or die.
I grabbed the "Snow Fang" sword with my left hand, which felt as heavy as lead. With my right, I uncorked the vial. The scent of ozone and metal filled the air.
I poured a single drop onto the base of the blade, right where the microfracture lay.
Ssssss.
The blue liquid seeped into the metal as if it were alive. The Silver-rank steel, once dull and cracked, began to glow with icy light. The temperature in the room dropped several degrees.
Ma's expression changed. Suspicion gave way to pure, unrestrained greed.
"That is… high-level alchemy," Ma whispered, stepping closer without realizing it.
"It's soul-sealing technology," I lied without hesitation. "And only I possess the catalyst to make it permanent."
I sealed the vial with a sharp snap.
"Ma, you're a businessman. What's worth more? My left leg, which will only feed your dogs, or ten percent of the auction for this technique?"
Fatty Ma stopped. He looked at his guards. He looked at the sword, now releasing a white mist of pure power.
"Ten percent?" Ma burst into laughter. "I want fifty."
"I'll give you fifteen. And you give me twenty-four hours of full protection. If Lin Chen's brother tries to enter this place before the auction, your men stop him."
"Are you insane? Lin Feng is Level 3. My men would die."
"Then they'll die as heroes defending fifteen percent of a million-stone fortune," I met his gaze. "Or would you rather explain to your boss why you let a million stones slip away over a villain's leg?"
Ma fell silent for what felt like an eternity. Sweat streamed down his forehead. Finally, he tucked away his silk handkerchief and nodded.
"Twenty percent. And my men guard the door, not the garden. If Lin Feng jumps the wall, you're on your own."
"Deal."
Ma signaled, and his guards sheathed their weapons, taking positions outside the room. When the door closed, I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
My hands began to shake violently.
> [SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
> You have successfully manipulated a superior enemy.
> Cunning Reward: 5,000 Soul Stones.
> Balance: -1,000,160,000 Soul Stones.
Jo rushed in from the kitchen, his face pale.
"Young Master. Are you really giving them twenty percent?"
"Jo," I said, collapsing back onto the pillows, "you can't give someone twenty percent of something you don't intend to sell."
"What do you mean?"
I looked at the vial. The blue glow was already beginning to fade.
"This adhesive is temporary. In twelve hours, the sword will be broken again. I only need the merchants to believe the trick long enough to pay tomorrow's installment."
I closed my eyes, feeling the darkness claim me.
"Jo, get ready. Tomorrow, we're not selling a technique. We're selling the most expensive smoke this city has ever seen."