The familiar storefront of [Silverton Goods & Pawn] looked exactly the sa as when I’d first stumbled in here over a week ago in dirty rags. Sa wide mix of items seen through the windows, sa window poster promising fair deals on everything from electronics to jewelry.
And the sa annoying buzz of neon. But this ti, I walked in through the front door right away. With proof of identity in my pocket... and sothing of a lot more of sure value than a smartphone I knew little about.
> Wouldn’t sell it now for the world, I think. I really am becoming one of this reality’s residents... <
I’d opted to bring three gold coins from the collection. While the bulk of each size and type bore the sa sort of coin markings and more recent dates, there were a few that were clearly different.
The sort that might have been specially obtained because they were... rare. They were dated far older and had particularly detailed engravings. They seed like enough to test the waters without risking my entire newfound fortune.
And so casual research on the dates and sizes made sort of expectant of good news. The bell above the door chid as I entered, and the red-haired owner from before looked up from behind his counter.
> Weird. <
Slow recognition had moved across his face, followed by sothing that looked almost like relief after he looked behind to make sure I was alone. Did sothing happen after I left last ti? Kyrie was still around back then...
"Well, hello there. Good to see you again."
His tone was completely different from our first encounter. Warr, more respectful. Almost... deferential? I tried to rember if I’d also been particularly rude during my previous visit, but mostly I recalled feeling desperate and out of place.
"Hello. I was hoping you might be able to help with so coin appraisals today."
"Of course, of course. Please, co right up to the counter."
He gestured enthusiastically before clearing space on the glass surface and placing down a soft mat. I put the three coins on top of it and his eyebrows raised imdiately, perhaps not realizing I ant gold. He leaned in for a closer look.
"May I?"
He gestured toward the coins and when I nodded, he quickly handled them to get a feel for their weight and ran sothing in his hand over them. From my research, it was probably a strong magnet to check if they were not just fakes. After that, he reached under the counter for a small toolkit.
Magnifying equipnt, precise scales, and what looked like a few other specialized testing tools. After weighing and jotting down on a notepad, he used one of them - a caliper he said when I asked - to get the dinsions on the diater and thickness.
Then he sat down his phone with so software application open and balanced each piece of gold on the tip of his finger. Tapping them with a pencil size brass rod, his device recorded the sound they made and gave an analysis of the resonant ’ping’.
> I guess they deal with collector’s coins more regularly than I thought. <
Made even clearer when the final step was running a handheld scanner over it that looked familiar. It was one of the items in the electronics cache from the pond - an ’XRF Analyzer’ - and apparently could be used to determine the tallic content of an object.
"These are beautiful pieces. Mind if I ask where you acquired them?"
"Estate sale. Previous owner had them in a safe without the proper docuntation."
I decided to stick with the sa story I’d given Martha. No sense in trying to keep track of multiple forms of the lie. He nodded absently as he skimd through a database of so kind on his phone.
Then he began to inspect the details closer for any blemishes - doing a preliminary ’grading’. Continuing to make notes on the side. The third large coin received the most attention. He spent several minutes examining it from different angles, occasionally making small sounds of approval.
"This is probably the rarest of the ones you brought. The market for authentic pieces like this is very strong. Alright, let break this down for you."
He went on to patiently explain the current gold spot price and the collector premium for year and condition on each of the items. The half-ounce was only a hundred or so above base value, worth about $1,000.
But the second coin was closer to $2,500 total, adding quite a markup to what would have been worth around eighteen hundred only. And then there was the one that he called the real prize - explaining how at the right auctions or interested buyer... $7,500 was practically a minimum.
"Serious collectors pay premium prices for all minimum quality pieces from that year. One of these at similar quality in a major regional event for Numismatists went for $10,741, see?"
I had to take a breath as he showed the article. While I knew in so general way that it could be worth a lot, based on glancing on the internet... over ten thousand dollars for a single coin?
I’d honestly thought the ntions I saw of so going for hundreds of thousands or millions were only the super special coins with many centuries of age. The hunter’s collection was worth more than I’d initially calculated... at least these ones.
"So... I understand everything, but what would soone typically expect to receive by selling these to a dealer and not the collector?"
In my world, if a luxury rchant couldn’t buy sothing for at most a third of what they intended to sell it for, they often did not bother. His expression beca more serious, almost apologetic.
"Well, normally pawn shops work on pretty tight margins. We need to account for authentication costs, ti to find the right buyers, the overhead incurred in between while our funds are tied up..."
He began writing down so numbers on the pad. Doing the math by hand instead of using his phone’s calculator.
> As he is speaking other numbers out loud to . What a mad individual... <
"Usually we’d offer maybe twenty to forty percent of the estimated premium value on pieces like these - maybe eighty percent on the spot value. If we sell it to a refiner to lt it down, they also buy it at lower than market rate from us... and we’re trying to profit even a little, not break even."
My heart sank. Even thirty percent of thousands was still substantial money, but the difference between that and the full value stung. But it was good to know that I would not be getting the full $1800 on the coins without collector interest if I sold them here.
"However... I’d be willing to offer you eighty percent of my estimated retail values flat. Cash, today, no questions asked beyond what I need for my records."
I stared at him like he was suddenly replaced with a stranger. The man who just explained exactly how much he would normally charge people, was now stepping back and claiming they are waiving that practice. My mind turns trying to assign so rchant’s trick to it.
"Eighty percent total? Without taking down more for the premium?"
"That’s right. So $6,000, $2,000, and $800. You’ll walk out of here with $8,800 if you want to sell all three today."
> Fear. <
Vrika agrees based on his body language. But not the kind of soone afraid their bartering opponent will realize they are being tricked. The kind that a Princess receives when the loyal subject thinks they aren’t kowtowing enough.
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