"Ten million?" Reo asked with a gentle, almost innocent smile, casually holding out his hand like he was offering candy and not attempting to buy a potentially deadly skill scroll.
The old man snorted, visibly amused. "Ten million, kid?" He leaned back on his chair, letting out a dry chuckle as if he’d just heard the punchline to a very old joke. "Are you serious?"
But when he looked closer at Reo’s expression—that calm, unwavering gaze and quiet confidence—his laughter slowly died. His amused grin turned into a thoughtful frown.
He sighed. "150 million. That’s my bottom price. Not a single credit less."
His voice lost its light tone, now firm and grounded. There was no room for negotiation in that statent—or so he claid.
Reo’s eyes darkened slightly. He didn’t like being strongard, but this wasn’t just any normal Skill. There was sothing about it
it was a Gamble since it’s quite Unknown But. His instincts told him it was worth fighting for. He hadn’t co this far just to walk away empty-handed.
He raised a brow. "Ninety million," he said in a serious tone, voice flat but steady.
The old man didn’t budge. His arms were crossed, and his single working eye just stared, unimpressed.
Reo exhaled a quiet sigh. He wasn’t one to throw money around, but...
"One hundred million," he finally offered, his tone sowhere between reluctant and resolute.
This ti, the seller’s expression wavered. His brows furrowed, and he leaned back, eyes narrowing thoughtfully at Reo. Silence stretched between them.
The truth was, that scroll had been sitting on his table for years. Dust had gathered on its edges. Dozens of buyers had co, ogled it, and left without spending a di. None of them had been willing to take the risk—or had the instincts sharp enough to understand what it really was.
This kid was different.
He was young, sure. But his eyes weren’t those of a fool. He had the sharpness of a hunter, the poise of soone used to danger, and most importantly—he had courage.
The old man tapped the table, lost in thought.
"One hundred million..." he muttered. "Still a loss, but..."
After another minute of hesitation, he finally picked up the scroll. His gnarled hands trembled just slightly as he extended it.
"Fine," he said, voice quiet. "It’s yours."
Reo’s eyes lit up for the first ti. Even Althea stirred within his soul.
But of course, Andrea was the first to speak.
"Wait, are you really going to buy that?" her voice rang out, filled with curiosity and just a bit of mischief. "You realize, mortal, that after this, you won’t have enough to buy Blessed Stones if you Bought it right?"
Reo Smiled faintly. "Don’t worry. I have my plans."
Before sealing the deal, he subtly scanned the old man again with his soul sense, trying to gauge his strength.
...Nothing.
The man’s aura was like a void. Reo couldn’t even pierce through it. That alone spoke volus.
At least B Rank, he estimated silently. And likely more dangerous than he lets on.
Knowing better than to try anything tricky, Reo reached into his spatial ring. He took out a small, secondary ring—an unmarked black band, used for secure, high-value transactions.
He placed it on the table.
"One hundred million credits. All inside," he said simply.
The old man inspected the ring, nodded in satisfaction, and gave Reo a crooked smile. "Smart. Not many young ones understand how to move real money without making themselves a target."
He patted Reo’s shoulder lightly, the gesture oddly paternal. "Be careful with this skill. It’s not flashy, but if you master it—truly master it—it’ll keep you alive when everything else fails."
Reo carefully took the scroll into his hand. Its surface was warm, like it had a heartbeat. He scanned it with his system.
Reo’s eyes flickered with interest.
"What does it do, exactly?" he asked.
The old man chuckled. "Ah... that’s the fun part. No one’s sure."
Reo stared at him.
"But," the man added with a knowing smile, "From what i rember say it allows you to grow bones throughout your body as natural armor. Not decorative, not aesthetic—it’s full-on skeletal reinforcent. Your ribs, spine, arms... all beco stronger. Hardened from the inside."
Andrea whistled softly in his soul. "That sounds horrifying. Are you sure you still want this?"
"Of course," the old man went on, "It has its... quirks. Growing bone too fast can be painful. And if your body isn’t prepared, it might rebel. So say the scroll was once used by a warrior who could regenerate like a monster and turn his body into a living fortress."
"Sounds brutal," Reo muttered, both impressed and wary.
"But if you master it, kid—if you synchronize your flow, timing, and resilience—it’s said to be tougher than enchanted armor. Strong enough to block high-tier blades, and flexible enough to adapt in the middle of a fight."
Reo nodded slowly, already imagining the potential.
"I’m satisfied," he finally said, tucking the scroll into his spatial ring with care.
As he turned to leave, the old man added one last thing
"Rember... it will be quite Painfull so don’t Be Mad or Regret that you Bought it and not Giving you a Warning."
Reo glanced back, just briefly. "Thanks for the warning."
And with that, he disappeared into the crowd.
But even as he left, Andrea’s voice whispered again in his mind.
"Mortal... if you die trying to grow bones, I’m going to laugh at you. Just saying."
Althea, cool and observant as always, rely responded with a quiet
"...He won’t." There’s suprising Teasing in her Voice.
Reo stood still for a mont, lost in thought amid the bustling crowd of the Black Market. Andrea’s voice echoed in his mind, as lively and mischievous as ever.
"Can you use your power to manipulate the people and hypnotize them, even while you’re inside ?" Reo asked ntally, his eyes scanning the area with growing intent.
Andrea giggled with interest. "Of course I could, mortal. But for what exactly? Just so you know, with my current sealed state, I can only hypnotize up to D ranks, and even then, for only a few seconds."
Reo’s lips curled into a slight smirk. "That’s fair enough," he whispered. "A few seconds is all I need."
The market was noisy and chaotic. Stalls lined the streets in a maze of colors and movent, each vendor shouting over the next to promote their goods—elixirs, worn-out gear, potions of questionable origin, and of course, the most precious commodity: Blessed Stones.
Reo moved through the crowd like a shadow, his expression casual, unbothered. Inwardly, however, he was already calculating. Most of the sellers had guards stationed nearby or were of too high a rank to be manipulated safely.
"C ... C ... B... Damn, even the fruit seller is at D ," he muttered to himself, ntally filtering through a sea of faces.
He needed at least thirty seconds—enough ti to swipe what he needed and vanish. A few seconds wouldn’t cut it if the seller caught wind of what was happening. But then, finally, he spotted his target.
An Lean and Looking arrogant man in a worn-out cloak stood in front of a stall, with four large sacks of Blessed Stones stacked behind him. Reo’s eyes lit up as he focused on the man’s aura—it was faint and unrefined, barely at D-.
"Jackpot."
Reo approached casually.
"Ah! Young man!" the vendor greeted enthusiastically, a toothy smile stretching across his wrinkled face. "Only 35 million per sack! Quite the bargain! You won’t find a better deal anywhere else, I swear on my mother’s bones!"
Reo forced a chuckle. "Sounds like a steal."
"Oh, it is! I’ve been in this market longer than most of these kids have been alive!"
Internally, Reo activated his ntal link. Andrea. Now. Everyone within two ters—hypnotize them to forget what I’m about to do.
Andrea yawned lazily but obeyed. A soft pulse of invisible energy rippled through the air around Reo, almost like a wave of dizziness passing unnoticed. The people closest to him—shoppers, hawkers, and even the old man—stared blankly for a heartbeat too long, their thoughts dulled.
In that mont of silence, Reo acted.
With swift movents, he opened his spatial ring. His fingers danced over the four massive sacks of Blessed Stones—roughly the size of duffel bags—and stored them without hesitation. Accessories, potions, or other goods were ignored entirely. He was after only what mattered most.
But of course, the hypnosis wouldn’t last forever.
Not a second after he finished, a sharp shout erupted nearby. "HEY! STOP! THIEF!"
The trance had worn off, and a group of patrolling guards had spotted the suspicious movent.
"Shit," Reo muttered under his breath as he turned on his heel and bolted into the crowd.
Imdiately, the guards gave chase.
"He’s only F ! Don’t lose him!" barked one of the guards, pushing through civilians.
Reo’s heart pounded, but his mind remained clear. The adrenaline was sharp, addictive even. His movents were fluid, darting between people with practiced ease. His clone technique was on standby, but using it here could backfire if soone stronger saw through it.
He used the Mask too Change his own Face too not here recognized.
Andrea laughed inside his head, clearly enjoying the thrill. "Ohhh, mortal, I’m starting to like you more! You’re reckless but clever~!"
"Not now, Andrea," Reo snapped, weaving through a tight alley, leaping over crates, and knocking over a display stand to slow his pursuers.
Despite the chaos, it was going... suspiciously smooth.
People scread in confusion as Reo passed, but they didn’t block his way. He was fast—unnaturally fast for soone labeled only F . His newly upgraded agility was showing real results. Still, he couldn’t afford to let his guard down. If even a single B-Rank decided to intervene...
Suddenly, a voice rang out from behind the crowd.
"Another thief?" a grizzled man scoffed. "Relax. That one’s just F . He won’t get far. Send the newer recruits."
That gave Reo a little hope. They weren’t taking him seriously.
Good. Keep underestimating .
He ducked into a tighter alleyway, sliding under a rail and leaping over a broken fence. The path opened up into a busy street—an upper-class district just outside the main market.
The mont Reo’s foot touched the polished stone of the sidewalk, the crowd’s appearance changed dramatically. Gone were the ragged rchants and shouting hawkers. In their place were fashionable elites, carriages, and digital escorts—the rich of the Aspiring City.
Reo slowed down just enough to blend in, catching his breath while adjusting his collar.
With the sacks of Blessed Stones safely tucked in his spatial ring, Reo knew he had pulled it off.
He let out a satisfied exhale, then looked ahead.
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