As Clayton stared in one direction, he unconsciously rubbed his eyes, as if trying to confirm whether what he was seeing was real. After blinking several tis and checking again, he was finally convinced—he wasn’t hallucinating.
"Damn! Is this what happens when your farming skill levels up?" he exclaid in disbelief, a grin spreading across his face.
In front of him was a stack of mysterious ice stones, nearly identical in appearance. The differences were subtle—probably due to slight inconsistencies in the freezing process. Normally, no one could tell which ones held sothing valuable and which were empty—at least, not with the naked eye.
But thanks to his Observation and Farr’s Intuition entrys, Clayton could faintly sense that a few of these ordinary-looking stones contained sothing worthwhile.
As he stood lost in thought, a cheerful voice called out to him.
"Good afternoon, brother! Interested in trying your luck with a mystery ice stone? Give it a shot! With a fresh and handso face like yours, I bet fortune’s smiling on you!"
The shopkeeper—a rotund man with a silver tongue—praised Clayton in a warm and persuasive tone.
Clayton raised an eyebrow but replied casually,
"No thanks, brother. Just browsing for now."
The shopkeeper nodded, unbothered, and swiftly turned to other custors, showering them with even more colorful praise.
Clayton was mildly impressed by the man’s eloquence. His flattery was smooth, bordering on theatrical.
He scanned the area and noticed many nearby stalls were selling the sa kind of ice stones—so similar that it felt like they all belonged to the sa business group. Suspicion crept in. These vendors were likely part of an organized network.
Suddenly, a loud voice broke through the noise.
"Hey! Let’s crack this ice stone open! I dread of the moon last night—today must be my lucky day!" shouted a man with a scar across his face.
"Alright, ten lower-grade magic crystals," the shopkeeper replied.
The man eagerly handed over the paynt, and the staff moved to crack the stone open in front of the crowd.
Crack!
The ice split apart, revealing a lump of sandstone. After smashing it further, a chunk of black tal erged.
The crowd fell silent, unsure if this result was good or bad.
"Congratulations, brother! You’ve found black iron ore! Worth about thirteen lower-grade crystals. A small profit!" the shopkeeper explained enthusiastically.
The man grinned. "Hahaha! That’s a good start! I’ll go again!"
He picked another stone, and the staff cracked it open.
Crack!
This ti—nothing. The stone was completely empty.
The man’s grin faded, but curiosity got the better of him. He bought several more stones, growing more agitated with each one. All were empty. By the end, he had lost a total of one hundred lower-grade magic crystals.
Infuriated, he shouted, "Hey! What’s wrong with your stuff?! Why are all the ones I picked empty? You guys rigged this, didn’t you?!"
The shopkeeper’s face darkened. People in the crowd began whispering suspiciously.
"Absolutely not, brother! We don’t rig anything! Our business is licensed and officially registered by the city. It’s all down to luck!"
The scarred man sneered. "Hah, I bet you’ve got shills planted to cover up your scam."
Though spoken quietly, his words carried easily to the crowd—most of them mages with enhanced hearing.
The shopkeeper gave him a cold stare, ntally marking the man for "special treatnt" later.
Still, he resud his pitch with a practiced smile, trying to draw more gamblers in.
But the damage had been done. Doubt was spreading. No one stepped forward to buy any more stones.
The scarred man folded his arms and stayed in place, clearly enjoying the chaos he had sown.
Clayton, still standing to the side, found the whole situation amusing. Not because he believed in luck—but because he didn’t need it.
He had the ability to see through the mystery.
Still, he waited. If he opened sothing valuable in front of too many people, it could draw unwanted attention.
Eventually, he stepped forward and pointed to one ice stone.
"I’ll take this one," he said, handing it to the shopkeeper.
The man’s face lit up instantly, now treating Clayton with far more respect—like a savior to the stall’s credibility.
Clayton stayed calm and composed.
The staff began processing the stone. Though he was going through the motions, the staff mber ntally scoffed. As if there’s anything good inside. But an order was an order.
Crack!
A deep blue crystal glead from within the shattered ice.
"Sothing’s inside!"
"No way—there’s really sothing!"
"Seriously? Is that a magic crystal?!"
The crowd erupted. The cold, suspicious atmosphere turned warm and excited.
Clayton breathed a quiet sigh of relief. His ability hadn’t failed him.
He took the item from the staff’s hand with a small, polite smile.
The shopkeeper seized the opportunity.
"Congratulations, brother! That’s a mid-grade water-elent magic crystal! It could sell for a hundred lower-grade crystals! That’s a tenfold return!"
Clayton nodded modestly. He hadn’t known exactly what was inside, only that it had potential. But now that he saw the result, he was genuinely pleased.
To others, this might have seed like a stroke of incredible luck. But for Clayton, this was no coincidence.
As a level-five qualified mage, he had been stuck at a bottleneck. Advancing from a lower-tier to a mid-tier apprentice mage required either a change in technique—or a breakthrough tool like a mid-grade elental crystal.
His father’s house had a breakthrough chamber, but its energy veins didn’t suit his water affinity. This crystal, however, was perfect.
This was more than just a win. It was a turning point.
Feeling confident, Clayton considered trying again. While others saw it as gambling, for him, it felt more like treasure hunting—with a cheat code.
But before he could savor the mont, a mocking voice cut through the crowd.
"Tch. Suspicious. How co he wins on his first try after everyone else lost? Slls fishy."
People glanced around, whispering. So began to nod in agreent. Doubt was resurfacing.
Clayton rely scoffed. He didn’t care what others believed.
The shopkeeper, however, was beginning to panic. Ironically, he had considered rigging the first stone to help Clayton win—but ultimately decided against it to avoid suspicion. Now, even without rigging, suspicion had co anyway.
As he stood frozen, Clayton pointed at another ice stone.
"I’ll take this one next."
The crowd hushed. All eyes turned to him.
So were skeptical. Others were curious. Was this guy really lucky—or sothing more?
The shopkeeper swallowed hard. If Clayton lost this ti, maybe it would calm things down.
But before the staff could move, the scarred man spoke again with a sneer.
"Heh. Now he’s picking an empty one—just to make it look like he’s not in on it. Real smart."
Though he spoke softly, his words rippled through the crowd like a curse.
The shopkeeper clenched his teeth, fuming. This guy was a nace.
Now, the pressure was on. The staff mber glanced at his boss, who gave a reluctant nod.
With a tense breath, the staff raised his tool and began cracking open the second stone.
Crack!
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