The commotion caused by the new goods went far beyond what was initially thought. On his way to the capital city of Caldera, carrying a large quantity of goods, Vorris received a letter from Abel.
He was traveling in a carriage when a subordinate quietly called him and handed him a letter.
Vorris opened the letter, his eyes scanning it quickly before his expression turned serious.
After reading it, he slammed the letter on the table with a “thud,” then stood up and paced rapidly around the carriage.
As if struck by a sudden thought, Vorris quickly looked at his subordinate, his voice urgent: “You, quickly find an ordinary person without a magic core!”
He took out the boba milk tea, opened it, and poured some into the cup. The milky white liquid contained some thick, granular solids, looking completely unremarkable.
Like everything in that shop, there was no magical fluctuation.
After summoning an ordinary person and having them drink the milk tea, he confirmed that what Abel had said was true.
In this world, there really are items that can alter a person’s talent!
The creation of a magic core is predetermined and decides the path you can take in life at birth.
Vorris could almost foresee the uproar these things would cause among the nobles.
For those nobles with money to burn, a hundred gold coins were nothing.
Moreover, some nobles didn’t even have magic cores, and wouldn’t hesitate to spend gold coins just to become warriors or mages.
Vorris lifted the carriage curtain and shouted to the coachman, “Speed up! Don’t stop for repairs on the way, and get to Caldera as quickly as possible.”
*
The Abyss.
Lu Sinian gently pressed the close button on the door. It was eight o’clock, the business was closed for the night.
He went up to his room, and looked curiously towards the third floor.
It was a three-story villa, but the third floor remained closed and sealed off.
“What’s on the third floor, and how do I unlock it?”
The system hesitated for a moment, its voice slightly embarrassed: “Master, I’m not quite sure either… but it should be unlocked in your next world.”
Lu Sinian didn’t dwell on the topic and went to the kitchen to prepare a few simple dishes.
Since binding himself to this system, he had lived a secluded life in the abyss undisturbed. It was a life many times more leisurely than on Earth.
Looking at the delicious-looking food before him, Lu Sinian chuckled softly and asked a question he had never brought up before.
“Why did you come to me? You should have had better options.”
Back when the mechanical voice in his mind told him he had bound himself to the interdimensional trading system and needed to open shops in various worlds.
Lu Sinian remained silent for a while, asking nothing, before agreeing.
He had no curiosity whatsoever about the system’s origins, his existence, or its purpose, and simply sold himself to the system.
“…”
The system didn’t respond.
Lu Sinian hadn’t expected an answer anyway.
He suddenly changed the subject: “You’ve always had this mechanical voice? Can’t you change it?”
“Master, if you’re not satisfied, you can upgrade my voice pack with 10,000 energy coins.” This time, the system responded quickly.
“Hmm…” Lu Sinian tapped his temples, pondered for a moment, and said, “Then let’s upgrade the voice pack. Your voice is making me uncomfortable.”
With a whoosh, energy coins were deducted.
“M-Master.” A clear, pleasant, youthful voice echoed in his mind, hesitant and stuttering.
It sounded quite young, still carrying a childlike innocence, and the way it addressed him as “Master” gave one the unsettling feeling of enslaving a child.
Lu Sinian’s hand reaching for the teacup suddenly paused. His tone was tinged with amusement as he asked, “How old are you this year, um…?”
The system seemed much more lively after changing its voice, unlike its previous stiff, mechanical tone. It now possessed some emotion: “Master, from the day I was created, I’m 126 years old.”
Now, with such a youthful voice, Lu Sinian felt an urge to tease it, laughing, “I think your mental age is at most eighteen.”
“Do you have a name?”
“The number one test subject of the dimensional general store.”
Lu Sinian picked up the plate and walked towards the kitchen, saying, “This is too inconvenient. From now on, I’ll call you Rong Qing.”
“The phoenix chick’s cry is clearer than the old phoenix’s, a thousand miles of paulownia blossoms along the red mountain road.”
The young voice remained silent for a long time.
Only after Lu Sinian finished washing the dishes did it quietly respond, its voice low.
“Mm.”
*
A few days later, Vorris finally arrived in Caldera. As a renowned merchant, his trip to a remote, isolated city to purchase goods was met with ridicule from many, with some even waiting to see him fail.
The moment he stepped through the city gates, news of his arrival reached the ears of certain opportunists.
Before he could even rest at the inn, he was ambushed on the road.
His decision to travel to Vista was a desperate gamble driven by his hopes for the Demon Shop.
Business in Caldera hadn’t been good for the past two years as Viscount Hawthorne had been subtly suppressing his caravan.
The viscount possessed territory, a high title, and was also the emperor’s nephew, attempting to seize a significant share of the caravan’s business.
The Vorris caravan had lost much of its business and couldn’t acquire rare goods, showing signs of decline over the past two years.
But now…
Vorris couldn’t help but sneer. With the gifts from the demon lord, a mere viscount was nothing. Even if His Majesty the King were here, he could speak with his head held high.
Looking at Viscount Hawthorne, fully armed, dressed in flamboyant clothes, and practically looking down on everyone, Vorris was quite relaxed.
“Oh, it’s Viscount. What brings you here? Why aren’t you checking on your caravan?”
Hawthorne scoured Vorris, a fake smile on his face. “Did you buy anything good this time? If you can’t get any more goods, what will your caravan do?”
Vorris’s expression changed as if a sore spot had been hit. He immediately retorted, “That’s no trouble for you, sir. I have my ways.”
The Viscount now had a plan in mind, realizing that the other party probably hadn’t bought anything good this time, and his smile became genuine.
“Hey, I say, you too, running all that way to that Lawson’s Vitas City. With that time, you’d be better off browsing the black market in the main city, maybe you’d even find some treasure, hahaha.”
Vorris spat, not bothering to argue with the Viscount, touched the large and small packages of goods on the carriage, and silently entered the post station.
Hawthorne curled his lip. He was just waiting for the caravan to go bankrupt and kneel down begging him.
The group turned and left. Hawthorne completely disregarded Vorris at this point as a money-grubbing merchant easily crushed with a finger.
After entering the post station, Vorris finally smiled and quickly unloaded the goods from the carriage.
These items bought from the Demon Shop had no trouble selling.
As for Viscount Hawthorne?
Ha, a mere viscount, his target was the higher-ranking nobles.
He casually picked up a bottle of cola. After witnessing the wonders of these things, he already knew how to make the most of them.
*
These past few days, a piece of news had been spreading like wildfire in Caldera, even attracting the attention of many nobles.
It was said that a previously unknown merchant had suddenly risen to prominence, possessing many unheard-of strange items.
At first, the nobles, boasting of their high status and having seen countless rare treasures, were completely unimpressed.
But as the rumors grew, while the other goods were less impressive, a few items were truly coveted.
For example, there was cola that could supposedly grant advancement, and candy that could restore magic cores.
Even more unbelievable was a milk tea that could supposedly create a magic core.
That was truly a fantasy. They treated it as a joke, making a few sarcastic remarks and that was it.
But the price was so cheap, only a few hundred gold coins—enough to barely make a splash—that they couldn’t resist the urge to buy a couple to try.
For a time, many nobles outwardly remained arrogant and disdainful, but secretly sent people to inquire.
Those without combat talent were even more anxious, searching everywhere for channels to purchase it.
At a grand banquet hosted by the royal family, many nobles were invited to attend. Everyone raised their glasses in toasts, creating a lively and festive atmosphere.
A lady in a long white dress with elegant manners, picked up a delicate pastry from the table. She whispered to her other sisters.
“Alice, do you know that merchant? I heard his advertisements are very convincing, and he really can grant magic core talents.”
“Oh, everyone knows that. The whole circle is talking about it. But that merchant has some kind of limited-purchase, queuing system. I paid several times the price, but he wouldn’t sell it to me. He doesn’t know my background, and he has no social skills whatsoever.”
Lady Kofipol sighed, worriedly saying, “Alas, my good-for-nothing son has no talent whatsoever. He wants to find a way to buy it early. If it’s really that magical, it must be extremely rare. Giving it to commoners would be a waste.”
Alice’s eyes darted around, and suddenly she remembered something: “Isn’t Viscount Hawthorne also involved in some kind of caravan business? Perhaps he knows something. We might as well ask him.”
Lady Kofipol suddenly understood. After thanking Alice, she decided to personally visit Viscount Hawthorne after the banquet.
*
Meanwhile, on the other side, Hawthorne was in a rage, violently sweeping everything off the table, shattering it into pieces.
“Investigate! Find out who that person is! Who dares to ruin my plans!”
He gritted his teeth, unable to contain his rage.
He had thought that by eliminating the top merchant, Vorris, his caravan would be unstoppable, raking in piles of gold. Who knew this obstacle would appear out of nowhere?
“Sir, Lady Kofipol has sent a visiting card, requesting an audience with you.”
Hawthorne’s eyes lit up, and he quickly stood up. This was the Countess, someone he rarely saw.
As he strode out of the room, his demeanor became slow and leisurely, exuding an air of dignity.
“Madam, is there something important you wish to discuss with me at your residence? Please, have some tea, and we can speak at your leisure.”
He waved his hand, instructing a servant to fetch the finest tea.
Lady Kofipol waved her hand, getting straight to the point: “I have indeed come to tell you something important.”
Hawthorne could barely contain his excitement. If he could establish a connection with the Countess, it would be a significant advantage at future royal banquets.
He coughed twice and sat up straight: “Please speak, Madam. If it’s within my power, I will certainly do my best.”
“Do you know my good-for-nothing son? He’s been unable to absorb magic. I heard there’s someone selling something that can create magic cores. If you have any information, please inform the Earl’s manor. Thank you.”
Hawthorne’s expression grew increasingly stiff with each word. His lips twitched, and he abruptly stood up.
Lady Kofipol was startled and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Hawthorne tried his best to maintain his composure, forcing a few polite words before seeing Lady Kofipol out of the manor.
Watching the lady’s carriage disappear, he finally lost his temper, and his face contorted with rage. Damn it, damn it, damn it! Who is it?!
He ruined my plans, I won’t let him get away with this!