CHAPTER 82: SETTING A STALL

Soon, three hours had passed, and the willow paste Nash carried was exhausted.

"This stuff is pretty good. Unfortunately..."

The willow paste not only protected his skin from the poisonous air and concealed his presence from dark beasts, it also had a slight restorative property that helped recover his stamina.

After hunting in the Willow Forest for almost five hours, Nash wasn’t even tired.

Unfortunately, one pack of willow paste costs 100 merits.

"When I have time, I’ll see if I can make one myself," Nash muttered, packing up his things as he headed back to the Black Willow Shelter.

---

Arriving at the gate, Nash began to attract some attention.

Seeing he was alone, most assumed his teammates had died along the way.

The area around the shelter was known for its high density of low-powered dark beasts. Hunting alone here was more dangerous than in other battle zones.

Returning alone could only mean one thing: he was the only one who made it back alive.

Unaware of the curious gazes, Nash headed straight to the stall area.

Unlike the items dropped by dark beasts, which were hard to sell, herbs were a seller’s market.

Because of their rarity, as long as you found the right buyer, you could sell them for higher than the market price.

Thinking it would be more cost-effective to sell them himself, Nash set his eyes on the market area.

---

When he arrived, he was greeted by neat stalls stretching out under the sunlight.

Although there were only a few booths, the place was packed with people, each stall surrounded by a crowd.

With different scents of medicine in the air and the rhythmic chants of people bargaining, Nash wasn’t in a hurry to set up his own.

Walking around, he began checking the general prices of various herbs.

Unfortunately, not knowing the details of some herbs, he could only estimate the general price based on the void saturation of each one.

Once he had a rough idea of the prices, Nash borrowed some cloth and found a spot to set up a stall.

Carefully taking out the stored herbs from his bag, he laid them out one by one, not marking them with any price.

Just a few minutes after setting up, someone came to ask about a plant.

"How much for this yellow Marshwort?" the man asked, picking up a yellow leafy plant with tiny red flowers.

"Fifty merits per bundle."

"Fifty? Are you kidding? The guy over there is selling them for twenty!"

"That’s my price. Buy it or not—it’s up to you." Nash shook his head.

His Marshwort was higher quality, with about 30% void saturation, while the other one barely had 20%.

Selling them for fifty merits per bundle was already cheap.

"That’s expensive. I’ll pay thirty at most."

"No."

"Thirty-five?"

"Still too low."

"Fine! Forty! That’s my final offer!" the man shouted, gritting his teeth.

However, familiar with such bargaining tricks, like his posture, tone, his rhythm of breathing—Nash quickly realized something was off.

Taking the Marshwort back from the man’s hands, Nash raised his price.

"I changed my mind. It’s seventy merits now."

"You! How can you change the price so arbitrarily?!"

"It’s mine, so I decide the price," Nash replied with a smile, watching the man as he estimated his psychological limit.

"How about this, I’ll pay the previous price, 50 merits!"

"Oh? Then I’ll set it at 100 merits."

"Damn it! Are you messing with me?! How can you raise the price while I’m bargaining?!" Aspen, the one haggling with Nash, finally snapped.

He thought he could score a deal and buy a mature Marshwort for cheap. Who would’ve thought this bastard kept raising the price?

"It’s your choice to buy or not. I’m not forcing you," Nash replied lazily.

Based on Aspen’s reaction, the price he offered shouldn’t be the limit.

"Fifty is fifty. I can only pay 50 merits!" Aspen offered again, knowing that if he quoted another number, Nash would raise the price higher.

"It’s 110 merits now..."

"You—! Are you insane?! Hmph! Who can afford such an expensive herb? I’m leaving!" Aspen growled, trying to bluff his way into a better deal as he slowly walked off, expecting Nash to call him back.

Unfortunately, Nash saw right through him.

Knowing the Marshwort could fetch over 100 merits, he wasn’t going to sell it for less.

Sure enough, just a few steps later, Aspen came stomping back with a livid expression.

If not for the shelter’s rules, he would’ve attacked Nash already.

"Fine! I’ll pay 110 merits. Will you sell it now or not?"

"Oops. The price just went up to 120 while you were away~"

"F*ck it! Fine! Just give me the damn thing—I’ll pay 120 merits!"

"Thanks for your patronage~" Nash grinned, handing over a bundle of Marshwort.

Although he knew he could push the price higher, it would be too immoral after they’d already agreed.

"Good. At least you’re not completely unreasonable," Aspen muttered, slightly appeased.

"Haha, business is all about honesty~" Nash said with a laugh, pulling out another bundle of Marshwort.

"This—! You have another one?!" Just as Aspen was about to praise Nash’s honesty, his eyes widened in shocked.

"Yes, and it’s available for the low, low price of 150 merits!"

"You brat..."

This time, Aspen gave up trying to negotiate.

Another word from Nash, and he might actually suffer a heart attack.

"I’m Aspen, the leader of the Bloodborne Squad. May I have your name?"

"I’m Noir," Nash replied, using his alias.

"Noir, huh? I’ll be honest with you. A Tier 1 low-grade herbs usually go for 10 to 30 merits."

"The only reason I’m paying this much is because Marshwort can only be found deep in the Willow Forest. If not for its rarity, I wouldn’t even waste my time bargaining with you," Aspen explained helplessly, hoping to get a better deal from Nash.

Although Marshwort had many alternatives, its marshy properties made it the perfect ingredient for the potion his friend was developing.

For the sake of discovering a new potion formula, Aspen was willing to take a loss.

But if Nash kept pushing the price, he’d have no choice but to walk away.

After all, even if he could afford it, he refused to be played for a fool.

"Tsk, stingy. So, how much are you actually willing to pay?"