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After leaving the clinic, Leon hopped onto his bike and headed straight for Clint’s Blacksmith Shop.

The trip went smoothly, and soon Leon found himself standing outside the shop.

Just before stepping in, however, he noticed sothing odd—the lid of the garbage bin next to the shop wasn’t closed.

Out of courtesy, Leon walked over to put the lid back on. But before he did, his eyes caught sothing inside—half-buried among the dark, sooty furnace ash was a tallic ingot, gleaming with a bright silvery sheen.

Curious, Leon picked it up. The familiar System Prompt appeared in his mind.

“Iron Ingot (Resource): A pure iron ingot.”

For a mont, Leon almost suspected Clint had bugged him and knew he was in need of an iron ingot—so he’d “conveniently” planted one in the trash for him to find.

But that was obviously impossible. After a brief mont of indecision, Leon decided not to just pocket it. Instead, he knocked on the blacksmith shop’s door, iron ingot in hand.

“Leon, co on in,” Clint said, visibly relieved when he saw who it was.

“So, are you here to crack open geodes today, or have you finally gathered all the materials for that semi-automatic geode-breaking machine?”

Leon stepped inside as Clint asked about his purpose.

“I was actually going to buy an iron ingot from you,” Leon explained. “But right before I knocked, I saw your garbage bin lid was open. I went to close it and found this inside. Is it sothing you accidentally threw out?” He handed the ingot to Clint.

“Oh, so that’s where it went. I was wondering why I was short one ingot—it must have gotten mixed into the furnace ash and dumped in the trash,” Clint said, recognizing the soot still clinging to it.

He wiped the ingot clean but didn’t take it back. Instead, he handed it to Leon.

“Keep it. It was ant for an order from the eastern mine, but when I thought I’d lost it, I slted a replacent. This one’s just surplus now. No use keeping it.”

“Better tell

the price. I can’t just take it. You even had to replace it—so you’re already out of pocket,” Leon said seriously.

“Really, it’s nothing. An iron ingot isn’t worth much, and the ore wasn’t mine—it was provided by the eastern mine for processing. Normally, it takes eight iron ore chunks to slt one ingot, but with my furnace, I can get the sa purity from just five. So for , this was just made from leftover ore,” Clint explained.

“So, all your ore stock cos from skimming like this?” Leon blinked. He honestly hadn’t expected the seemingly honest Clint to have such a knack for business.

“It’s not skimming—it’s paynt,” Clint said quickly. “The clients know my furnace is more efficient than theirs. Instead of using eight ores for one ingot, they’re happy to hire

with a deal of seven ores for one ingot. That way, they save one ore, and I keep two as my processing fee.”

Leon nodded in understanding—and figured the clients probably kept an extra ore for themselves too. Otherwise, the deal might not happen.

“What about coal? Who supplies that?” Leon asked, rembering it was essential for slting.

“They do, of course. And the standard is two pieces of coal per ingot,” Clint replied.

“They asked for that?”

“No, I did,” Clint admitted. “My furnace is high-powered—it needs a lot of coal for batch slting.”

Leon gave him a thumbs-up. For all his down-to-earth appearance, Clint clearly had a head for business. No wonder he was the only blacksmith in Pelican Town.

“Just don’t spread this around,” Clint added, scratching his head awkwardly. “For , losing an ingot isn’t a big deal. If you need it, take it. I don’t even sell ingots, only ore or processing.”

“I’ll use it for now, but next ti I’ll bring you five iron ore chunks to make up for it. Consider it a processing job,” Leon said firmly. Taking advantage of small freebies wasn’t his style—debts of gratitude were far more troubleso than money owed.

“Well… it’s up to you,” Clint said, unsure whether to feel happy or disappointed. Leon’s insistence on fairness was admirable, but it also ant he didn’t see their relationship as close enough for gifts.

With the iron ingot issue settled, Leon didn’t rush off. He stayed for a while, chatting with Clint before leaving.

In Leon’s view, relationships were built on little details. If he had just grabbed the ingot and left, it would have felt too transactional. Finishing his business and then staying for a casual chat gave a warr impression.

It was sothing he’d learned from past work experience—tedious, but incredibly effective, especially when maintaining connections. Often, such conversations led to unexpected gains.

Like today—during their chat, Clint offered him an opportunity to help with processing orders.

The eastern mine often needed Clint’s slting services, but he wasn’t always at the shop to watch the furnace. If there was a large order, he’d sotis ask Leon to help.

The pay was simple—just like Clint’s own terms: one ingot for seven ores, and for every two ingots slted, three pieces of coal as compensation for fuel.

It was an extra way to get ores outside of mining trips, costing only a bit of ti. And for Leon, ti was the one thing he had in abundance.

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