Ding!
[Smoke_Trader: 2 ssages.]
Raven bolted upright. "Huh—?!"
He blinked in disbelief. "No way..."
Tapping the blinking na, the chat scrolled instantly with two bold new ssages and more incoming.
’Well, damn...’
That was all Rave could say as he looked at the ssages.
It turns out that our greedy rchant hadn’t locked him, nor was he ignoring him, but searching for artifacts that could be of use to him.
’What do I do now?’
Technically, their deal was still ongoing since Smoke had gone to fetch items for him, but his prejudice made him think that it ended.
Now, the deal was still on from Smoke’s side, but Raven had gone and confird his trade with Windy.
So, the one at fault was Raven, but what could he do now?
He couldn’t go and stop Windy.
Therefore, he decided to co clean with Smoke.
There was a long pause before Smoke’s next series of ssages.
’What the...?’
Raven frowned as he read through those ssages.
’I’m here, trying to apologize to the guy because I realized my mistake, but he wouldn’t let it slide? And he’s calling rude?’
Raven decided to stop playing nice.
After all, he wasn’t the only one at fault here.
Raven did say those things, but he regretted it instantly as he realized who he was talking to.
’Fuck! That bastard is a god!’
The mories of being turned to ash because of the gods’ curses were still fresh in his mind.
Yet, without thinking about it, he was trying to fight a god.
’What would I do if he called for a fight?!’
The replies ca from the other side.
Usually, Raven would’ve nodded his head and done as he was told because he knew he could never win against a god, but today, sothing inside him snapped.
He didn’t feel like backing down.
Not before so greedy rchant.
But what could he do?
In this situation, was there anything—
’Aha!’
Then it clicked.
He quickly opened his friend list and took a screenshot.
Yes, there was a screenshot function, and he used it.
Then, he sent that screenshot to Smoke.
That was all; he didn’t say anything else.
Then, he waited until finally—
Yes, Raven had sent the screenshot of Grandpa, the strongest god on this server, in his friend list.
As for authenticity, no one would doubt it.
Because only one person can take one surna—no two people can have similar surnas.
Raven grinned.
Raven stared at the chat for a few seconds but Smoke wasn’t typing anymore.
The guy was probably scared shitless now.
After all, it hadn’t been long since Grandpa had destroyed one of the major god’s sanctuaries because that god had attacked him.
Raven smirked, his fists clenched.
’Yes! This is it! This is the feeling!’
Clutching the bedsheet, he took a deep breath, not letting himself get lost in the feeling of silencing a god.
Of course, Smoke wasn’t scared of him, but Grandpa was his backer, and that alone was enough to make Raven one of the big league players.
Raven closed the interface, now waiting patiently for Windy’s ssages.
His protagonistic senses were still telling him that he should talk to the guy, but he ignored it.
He didn’t care about that guy anymore.
But then—
Ding!
[Smoke_Trader: 1 ssage.]
Raven stared at the notification.
Ding!
[Smoke_Trader: 2 ssages.]
[Smoke_Trader: 3 ssages.]
[Smoke_Trader: 4 ssages—]
"What does this fucker want now?!"
Raven opened the chat.
Raven didn’t know what to say.
Smoke didn’t seem to be lying, but that didn’t an Raven would feel pity for that guy.
If Grandpa wasn’t his backer, who knew what would’ve happened?
He wanted to block this guy, but then, sothing clicked in his head.
’Wait. Can’t I use this to my advantage?’
A desperate person would never make demands so Raven could get things at the cheapest price possible.
Above all, he still needed sothing for himself.
A sword preferably.
He could even test out what his protagonistic senses were pointing at.
He grinned and sent a ssage.
Far away in the divine trading server realm, a chaotic swirl of mana exploded like a mini supernova around one particular rchant desk made entirely of lava-proof obsidian and gold.
"HE ACCEPTED!"
Smoke_Trader’s entire form—currently a six-ard, flaming mongoose hybrid in a bathrobe—shot to his feet, knocking over a stack of cursed price tags.
"YES! THE BAD LUCK IS GONE! BRING OUT THE FILE! BRING OUT THE FILE!!"
His assistant, a small ghostly intern nad Jeff, floated in carrying a scroll labeled ’Mortal-tier Things That Don’t Sell.’
Smoke ripped it open with all the ceremony of an auctioneer on espresso and sent it into Raven’s chat.
Ding!
[Smoke_Trader has sent you a file: "All_Mortal_Things_CheapCHEAPCHEAP.zip"]
Raven downloaded it with a sigh, stretched his arms, and opened the folder.
Hundreds of items appeared before his eyes.
There were many things, but Raven was more focused on the weapons. There was a scythe called "Semi-emotional support edge." Then there was this sword that ca with a plushy sheath and voice lines like "You got this, champ!" every ti you drew it.
Raven blinked. Then blinked again.
All of them were strong, but Raven felt nothing as he looked at them.
Not a damn thing in that entire folder made his heart stir.
’No shiver... no sparkle... no mysterious aura whispering, "I choose you."’
He felt nothing but boredom and vague disappointnt—like watching a sequel to a cult classic made by interns.
"Typical," he muttered. "A protagonist never gets hyped over normie weapons."
Raven popped his knuckles and typed.
Smoke_Trader’s tail twitched. His six eyes widened.
"Wait!" He muttered, clicking his claws. "He wants a divine weapon now?! I might actually earn sothing from this trade!"
He cracked his neck and grinned. This was his real inventory.
Ding!
[Smoke_Trader is uploading a file: "Special_Weapons_ONLY_GIGA_RARE.zip"]
A gallery popped up. Raven leaned in.
- A glowing sword shaped like a banana. Activation: Must be peeled before use.
- A "Justice Hamr," forged by a blind dwarf bard, that sings courtroom drama music whenever swung
- A divine ladle nad "Soupender, the Brothbringer." Rumored to have slain a god by stirring their molten core.
- A cursed dagger that turns enemies into interpretative dancers for 7 seconds.
- A sword that only works if you’re emotionally constipated. Raven wasn’t sure whether to be offended or tempted.
Raven stared at it all, open-mouthed.
"Is this a divine garage sale or a fever dream?"
Still, even though the cursed crockpots and semi-sentient umbrellas were labeled "combat ready," he felt nothing.
He typed again.
There was a long pause.
Raven squinted. His protagonist instincts flared up like a nosebleed around a busty sword spirit.
Smoke blinked.
Then froze.
Then blinked again.
"Oh. Oh... I have THAT one."
Smoke_Trader slowly typed.
At that exact mont—
STAB!
Raven grabbed his face. His eyes stung.
"Ah! What the hell?!"
His irises shimred violet.
His Fate Eyes spun wildly, symbols appearing and vanishing like a roulette of destiny.
They were reacting. No—they were confirming.
’This is it!’
The junk sword no one wanted.
Raven grinned like a lottery winner holding a ticket he found under a park bench.
Smoke_Trader paused.
Raven replied without waiting.
Smoke sat back, wide-eyed, mumbling to himself.
"First trade of the month... black-luck curse averted... and now, this lunatic wants that thing..."
He clicked SEND.
Far away, in Raven’s inventory, the ugly, black, unimpressive sword quietly appeared.
There was no glow. No hum. No thunder.
But Raven smiled like a man who’d just unearthed a dragon egg buried under manure.
"This... this is the one."
However, before he could bring that sword out, Smoke’s ssage arrived.
’Oh, yeah,’ Raven slapped his head in realization. ’I need to give him so plot points to make this a trade.’
He stared at his plot points.
[Plot Points: 130,909.]
As he looked at it, he realized what the right amount to send the guy would be.
Far away, sitting on his seat patiently, Smoke waited for Raven’s divinity (plot point) until it ca.
[Raven had sent you 1 divinity.]
Smoke stared at the notification for a whole minute before he rubbed his eyes.
’Haha, I must be seeing things.’
He thought that he couldn’t see the zeros after the one, but no matter how much he rubbed his eyes, the number didn’t change.
Raven, on the other hand, unbothered by the fact that his actions almost caused a god to experience a ntal breakdown, stared at his remaining plot points.
[Plot points: 130,908.]
’Now it’s even. Good.’
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