William currently only had thirty thousand dollars. After so inquiry, he found out that even a slightly larger storefront would cost nearly a hundred thousand dollars a year in rent. If it were a pri comrcial area, the rent would be even higher. Landlords often preferred stable inco streams, so they typically required tenants to sign long-term contracts of three, five, or more years.
"I'll buy a storefront," William said, having never been in the habit of renting a store.
In the past, if one wanted a small shop, a place to settle, they could build it themselves. Even later on, when one had to buy land, it wasn't expensive. At least it wasn't as astronomically expensive as it is now.
"Buying a storefront… If it's in the city center, it would likely cost several million, maybe even close to ten million dollars," Alice thought out loud, and then added, "I have so money. I could ask my grandfather for more."
The value of the two parchnt-bound books William had given her was imasurable. Even if she were to gift William a storefront in return, it would be nothing compared to the value of the books. Whether as a form of gratitude or respect for her teacher, it seed appropriate.
"No need, just accompany to Chelsea to look for antique boutiques," William shook his head, his thoughts on the million or so dollars needed for a storefront.
Money was not a significant concern for him. If he rely wanted to make money, he had countless ways to do so. Turning thirty thousand dollars into one million dollars was a simple task for him.
"Antique boutiques? Are you looking for treasures in antique stores?" Alice's eyes narrowed slightly, her young teacher seed to have a large appetite.
The books "De dicina" volus I and II were, in his opinion, rely 'well-written'. And now, with just thirty thousand dollars, he wanted to buy a storefront and thought that visiting an antique boutique would suffice?
Alice was curious about William's thods. So far, he had not shown any exceptional skills.
"Get in the car."
Alice assud the role of the driver, taking William to Chelsea. She was curious to see if her teacher could turn thirty thousand dollars into a million dollars.
The tactics employed by antique boutiques nowadays are intricate.
Decades ago, the stores that sold antiques here offered mostly genuine items. One could even buy rare treasures at low prices. However, now the market is flooded with counterfeit and deceiving works of art. Many shop owners resort to elaborate sches to defraud people.
Throwing thirty thousand dollars into such a place without professional appraisal knowledge, it would be challenging to purchase authentic items.
William walked ahead, Alice following him. At tis, she felt that her teacher didn't seem as young as he looked.
He appeared to be in his twenties, but he spoke with an unwarranted maturity. He seed too seasoned for his age.
His appearance, too.
A typical twenty-year-old would likely still have a youthful face, especially the eyes. They certainly wouldn't look as experienced as William's, which were full of world-weariness.
If William were to wear a mask, showing only his eyes, and soone were to say he was forty, Alice would believe it.
"Master, do you know antiques?" Alice had accepted William as her teacher but still didn't know much about his abilities.
Her grandfather had recomnded William for a reason. Perhaps William was skilled in dicine, but antiques required a unique eye and a deep understanding of history. Besides, various knowledge was indispensable.
Alice felt confused as soon as she entered the Chelsea Flea Market.
Without a proper understanding of these items, acting hastily would surely result in a loss.
William smiled faintly and said, "I know a little."
Throughout the world's history, William's traces can be found. He has seen and genuinely interacted with objects from every era.
It could be said that in the entire world, no one understands these antiques better than William.
So modern people collect antiques because of their historical value, but almost no one would use them as everyday items after acquiring them.
But William was different. In his view, antiques might be more comfortable to use than modern crafts.
As for the so-called historical value, it had no significance to him.
Chelsea is known for its art galleries and fashionable nightlife. The district is usually crowded and has nurous galleries. In particular, Chelsea is famous for its Chelsea Flea Market, a renowned flea market that often features stalls selling antiques, collectibles, art, jewelry, antique furniture, and other items. In the past, this market was one of New York's most popular flea markets, attracting countless antique dealers and collectors. William's presence drew the attention of several antique dealers.
The dealers noticed Alice's attire and quickly concluded that she was a wealthy young woman. People like her were very desirable potential custors for them.
"Interested in so 1710 issen? It's perfect as a gift for your elders," a young antique dealer whispered to Alice as he approached her, holding out a porcelain plate. "Take a look at this. If you're interested, you can visit my shop; I have plenty more."
Alice stood out with her striking deanor, wearing an exquisite diamond bracelet on her wrist that signaled her family's considerable wealth.
"How much?" Alice casually inquired, though she had no intention of purchasing it.
The young man looked serious and said in a low voice, "1,200 dollars. If you're really interested, we can negotiate a bit further over there."
William, who had been looking up antique prices on his phone, glanced at the porcelain plate the young man held, then looked at Alice and calmly stated, "It's a replica, and not a particularly good one at that. I wouldn't pay more than 20 dollars for it."
The young dealer's face twitched in frustration, thinking to himself, "Was I exposed just like that?"
He had initially disregarded William, considering him young and therefore unlikely to know much about antiques. But William's words had swiftly shattered his pretense.
"What did you say?" The young man glared at William and angrily lunged at him, dropping the plate he had been holding.
Catching the plate would have been an easy feat for William, but he didn't even spare it a glance.
"Crash!"
The plate shattered on the ground.
"What do you an by that? You're not leaving here today unless you pay for this plate!" The young man, red-faced and furious, yelled as he scrambled to his feet. A crowd quickly gathered around.
Though Alice clearly appeared wealthy, individuals from affluent families like hers were usually not known for their bravery. In such situations, many would rather settle the matter by paying.
William remained impassive, staring at the young man, while Alice rely frowned slightly.
Turner family mbers traditionally trained in martial arts from a young age to ensure their ability to protect themselves. Alice was no exception.
She had seen the young man deliberately collide with William, and the entire incident had not escaped her attention.
"Guys, this person knocked over my porcelain plate and even attacked ," the young man pointed at William, falsely accusing him.
A burly figure erged from the crowd, tattoos of nacing designs inked on his arms. He stared at William and sneered, "What do you think should be done about this?"
Alice stepped forward, positioning herself between the man and William, and retorted, "What do you want?"
In Alice's eyes, while William was not frail, he was certainly not robust. He didn't display the features of a martial artist and might be at a disadvantage against this group of petty thugs.
William was, after all, Alice's ntor. How could she let this gang of hooligans bully him?
Reviews
All reviews (0)