The potatoes had been delicious.
The taste was similar to a normal potato, but these had a stronger flavor and were much larger. A single one was equivalent to a full meal, and he had eaten two in a row. His body appreciated both the rest and the food.
Sitting down, arching his back slightly, one hand resting on his stomach and a satisfied expression on his face, he realized that his head no longer hurt. He was no longer dizzy, and his body had stopped trembling involuntarily.
He barely noticed it.
He looked at his hands and clenched a fist.
After assimilating his first singularity and resting, he felt noticeably stronger.
He turned to look at Audrey, who was now organizing her leather bags. When he saw her, his eyes widened with interest. She was sorting her loot just like that—completely unconcerned.
The loot was considerable.
There were twenty different singularities, each a different color.
He counted sixteen level-one singularities, one level-two, and the three level-three ones they had exchanged for his life, food, and protection.
"That's quite the haul," he said casually.
Audrey's eyes remained focused on the colorful spheres.
"It is. Even level-one singularities are valuable and difficult to obtain."
"What will you do with so many?"
"I'll assimilate the ones most suitable for me. I'll trade some of the interesting ones and sell the rest."
Soren nodded.
It was obvious that in this world, singularities were the most valuable currency—more valuable even than gold, silver, or bronze.
He pointed at a few that looked familiar. There were three dull-green singularities with miniature galaxies swirling inside them. Small roots sprouted from their centers.
"Are those Hot Potato Nests?"
"They are," she replied.
She had given him one the night before, and he had assimilated it, though he hadn't used it yet. He didn't know how she would make him repay it.
Curious, he asked:
"How much does one of those cost?"
Audrey thought for a moment before answering.
"If you wanted to buy a level-one singularity, the standard price would be ten silver coins or one gold coin. But the value varies depending on how rare it is and how useful it is. Besides, for each person, the usefulness of a singularity can be different."
She paused briefly, turning one of the dull-green spheres between her fingers.
"It also depends on the secret it hides. Some carry an unexpected blessing. Others a curse. That kind of thing makes them rarer… and much more attractive to collectors. A Hot Potato Nest, since its function is survival, might cost eleven or perhaps twelve silver coins."
Soren nodded, completely focused, absorbing every drop of knowledge.
In his past life, he had realized far too late that knowledge was power. He had never been good at studying in a classroom, but he excelled at something more practical: putting a price on things, selling, and negotiating.
"Singularity…" he snorted. "That name makes me think there shouldn't be two alike. But you have three Hot Potato Nests."
Audrey's eyes lit up for a moment.
"You noticed. That detail is crucial. Even if singularities share the same name, there's always something different about them."
She lifted her hand to the side.
At the spot she indicated, branches began to sprout from the ground. They intertwined and grew rapidly. When they reached about four feet tall, they began to curve. Green leaves sprouted from them. Then small seeds appeared.
The seeds swelled, transformed into fruit… and the fruit turned into potatoes.
Within seconds they began to heat up, and a starchy, steaming smell filled the air.
The entire process lasted barely five seconds.
Soren was completely stunned.
And yet, he still felt a small pang of envy when he saw the potatoes.
"This is my Hot Potato Nest," Audrey explained calmly. "It's a beautiful singularity. You could say it falls within the normal range."
The branches began to crumble slowly, as if returning to the earth.
"But if you try to use yours, it will probably change. Maybe not in appearance… but in how long the tree takes to grow. Or the size of the potatoes."
She paused.
"The most common change is the flavor. Some are delicious. Others are plain. Some are even tasteless."
The smell still lingered in the clearing.
"And there are Nests that can take hours to sprout from the ground. When a singularity has a flaw like that, its value drops exponentially. A Seeker needs efficiency."
Soren looked at the place where the branches had emerged.
Five seconds.
Five seconds could be the difference between life… or death.
Audrey saw Soren's serious expression and curved her lips slightly.
"Want to try yours?" she asked, amused.
Soren nodded, catching that faint smile.
"Yes."
He raised his right hand and pointed toward the ground. Before summoning the singularity, he stopped.
He hesitated for a moment.
He knew it wasn't wise.
That he was probably crossing an invisible line.
But he couldn't help it.
He turned his face slightly toward her.
"Want to make a bet?"
Audrey looked at him with genuine interest.
"If my Hot Potato Nest emerges faster than yours, you give me a level-one singularity," Soren said lightly. "And if yours wins… I'll give you the purple level-one."
A small silence followed.
The wind moved the leaves in the clearing.
The bet wasn't about potatoes.
It was about value.
It was about measuring hierarchy.
And they both knew it.
Audrey didn't look away.
Soren pulled the purple singularity from the leather bag. The sphere spun between his fingers as if it already belonged to her.
"I accept."
Soren extended his hand toward the ground.
Something beneath the earth answered his call.
Branches began to sprout.
One.
Two.
Three.
Roots intertwined.
Four.
Five.
Leaves appeared.
Six.
Seven.
Seeds swelled.
Eight.
Nine.
The potatoes emerged, releasing steam.
Silence.
Audrey burst into open laughter.
"Nine seconds," she said, amused. "Not bad… for a beginner."
She turned the purple singularity between her fingers.
"I've been a Seeker for years. I've never found a Hot Potato Nest faster than mine. Five seconds. That's the limit."
Soren looked at his steaming tree.
Nine seconds.
Four seconds could be an eternity.
He sighed.
"You've earned it."
"Of course I have."
The branches began to wither.
Later, Soren sat in front of the embers.
The fire was now a steady reddish glow.
He held a potato in his hand.
It was delicious.
More intense than Audrey's.
Deeper.
Not bad.
He took another bite.
Nine seconds.
He had known he would lose.
And yet he bet anyway.
He snorted softly.
His old bad habits had followed him into this world.
The unnecessary risk.
The need to measure strength.
The bet before thinking.
The world didn't matter.
He was still himself.
A crack interrupted the silence.
Both of them looked up.
Sira emerged from the trees.
Imposing.
A Bengal tiger with curved horns that cast small shadows in the firelight.
In its jaws hung a creature the size of a small dog.
Orange fur.
Its back was covered in metallic spines like overlapping blades.
The Blade-Spine Rat didn't move.
Sira dropped it in front of them.
The spines clinked against the dirt.
Small cuts marked the tiger's front legs.
Audrey observed the prey and then looked toward the forest.
"They don't hunt alone," she said calmly. "If she found one… there are more."
She stood.
"We're two days from the city at Sira's pace. But we can take a small detour."
She looked at Soren.
"A nest of Blade-Spine Rats could give us several level-one singularities."
Sira was already turning toward the darkness of the forest.
Soren finished the last bite of potato and stood up.
"Then let's go."
The detour wasn't large.
But it was the first.
And the journey was starting to feel real.