Alexander looked at the parchnts, both looked old and aged—yet the text seed fresh, its ink far too fresh for the paper it was used on.
"What is this?" asked Alexander.
"Contracts!" Brak chirped.
Alexander sighed.
"I’m looking to sell items, how does that require a contract?"
"It doesn’t, just anyone can co in here and sell sothing."
Alexander leaned forward and grabbed the freshly poured glass of water, handing it to Fae.
She drank it, barely making a sound while doing so.
"These contracts are mutually beneficial—In essence, you agree to co to first to sell your findings, and I’ll give you a 20% bonus on anything you sell, as well as 20% off anything you buy."
Alexander looked at Brak’s expression, it didn’t change, but he hadn’t been born yesterday.
"20% seems great. I’m sure anyone would be thrilled hearing those words, although you could price items 20% lower or higher, which essentially would an no bonus at all."
Brak’s expression was almost lustful, his eyes opened wide while he stared at Alexander’s, unbothered by [ The Weight ]’s passive effect.
"My store isn’t backed by the Adventurer’s Guild. I barely get any clients, especially those that go into higher-tier dungeons. So guilds like Gilded Order have their own supply chains, companies taking care of everything from the mont they drop it to the mont it’s shipped out. A lot of them actually have their own stores."
Alexander raised both eyebrows, surprised guilds went that far.
He played gas his whole life, with his father and by himself. His first instinct was that everything was as simple as it could get, you form a party and you run through dungeons.
Yet, at every turn, there was sothing unexpected happening.
It made sense that Gilded Order, the number 1 guild, would need help with selling what they acquired, but to go that far truly surprised him.
Brak snatched both contracts and flicked them upward; they curled into tight scrolls and vanished into his sleeves.
He then whipped a single new parchnt out of nowhere.
This one was truly different.
The paper was deep black, it looked brittle yet it didn’t crumble at all. It was smoldering through extrely thin cracks that went through the entire thing.
The ink used on that one was a glittering gold, brightly reflecting all the light that touched it.
Truly fascinating.
"Why?" asked Alexander.
"The other contracts are frail, it’s just business. These are more than just contracts. They’re a bond that cannot be broken."
"What do you an?"
"You sign this, and we’ll enter a partnership. I’ll essentially be your sponsor, and I’ll take care of anything you might need to the best of my abilities. This ans, if you need new gear, better weapons, potions, or just a set of nice unbreakable cutlery."
Alexander nodded while grabbing his chin.
Having soone sponsor him would make his life easier, especially soone who didn’t mind him being a cultist.
"So, what do you get out of this?" asked Alexander. "You wouldn’t just give free things."
"Indeed. I take care of anything you might need, but in return, everything you drop goes through . I’ll additionally take care of your finances, making your accountant and bank."
Brak lifted his hand, a black tallic card appearing in-between his fingers with a golden outline resembling the contract on the table.
"You’ll be bringing your drops, I’ll try to sell them for profit. As I’m your bank, I’ll hold onto your money and make deals I believe will benefit us both. As our money would be pooled together it’s an opportunity for to make even better deals. Of course, I’ll have parts of the profits go into this card for you to spend freely so you’re never caught off-guard—but I doubt you’ll need it much, considering I’ll already be providing everything you need."
Alexander sat back and took a deep breath. Brak’s offer was good.
But it had many holes.
A lot of what-ifs, and situations where one could find themselves in a pitfall.
While Brak might have his interest in mind now, that wouldn’t always be the case. He could wait a few years and leave with everything, and he’d then have nothing.
The math also needed to add up.
He would need to calculate everything, and keep track of his own stock as well as Alexander’s stock, the ratios when things are pooled together and much more.
"Things that are too good to be true simply aren’t. There’s a way to fuck over at every step of this plan you have. From the mont I give you everything I drop to this card that will hold my allowance. Being my sponsor is great, but even without you, I could easily buy what I need."
Alexander pointed to the loot on the table that he had accumulated in the dungeon.
After selling it, he would be able to buy anything he’d need, he was sure of it. It wasn’t E-tier loot, even Brak acknowledged it.
"True. It’s too good to be true. That’s why this contract is different."
Brak grabbed a fountain pen that was inside his jacket, and laid it on the table.
It was made of silver and gold that intertwined along the pen, its design flowed like a river along it.
"This contract isn’t just binding—it’s sacred. Once signed, it weaves a bond neither greed nor betrayal can touch."
"So, we sign this, and then, if we break the contract we die?"
"Oh no. See, death could also be a problem for contracts like these and cause more problems than they solve. This one is called a golden vow. Once signed, the vow between us would be sacred. You would simply be unable to break it, the golden vow would take over and force you to honor our bond."
"This ans I’m at the rcy of those words on the contract, and its possible traps I wouldn’t even see."
"If there were traps, the vow wouldn’t allow to exploit them."
Alexander glanced at Fae, she was barely paying attention to the conversation, studying his expression with a certain passion.
"Let read it," said Alexander, grabbing one from the table.
As Alexander held the black parchnt, a faint warmth pulsed through his fingers. What he felt could only be described as the opposite of what the entity made him feel until that point.
It felt like holding grace in his hands—like light rembered by soone who had lived too long in shadow.
He could feel the heat through Sunder’s mark.
If that abyssal being, the entity that changed his life, was reacting this way to the golden vow, then it had to be the real deal.
Only it would react poorly to sothing that felt so pure.
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