Chapter 42: Isn’t this pure profiteership?

“So, what’s your real goal?”

Flo was baffled. This old witch had been throwing absurdities at him from the start. Seniors these days had no dignity…

Daphne was like this, and now Yanlu. Flo felt they were so caught up in their own antics they didn’t care about others’ lives.

“I told you, I’m selling stuff! So, made up your mind? The Mindabyss Ring, blocks mental attacks—originally 9,999, now just 99 gold! Trust me, you’ll need it soon. 99 gold, fair and square~”

“Why hesitate? Would your big sis scam you? Miss this deal, and it’s gone~”

Flo didn’t budge. It wasn’t that he doubted a friend of his mothers’, but they’d warned him Yanlu was a shady merchant…

Plus, his house was broke—he couldn’t scrape together a single silver, let alone 99 gold. Even if Yanlu wasn’t scamming, he was flat out of funds.

Noticing his plight, Yanlu added sweetly, “No money? No problem! We offer loans, 13.8% interest~”

“Per year?”

“Per day…”

Okay, Flo thought a yearly rate was already steep, but this? Pure usury!

This woman was no good!

He wanted to roll his eyes, but his upbringing stopped him.

So, Flo grabbed his task slip and turned to leave.

“Hey! Really not interested? I’ll give you an 80% discount!” Yanlu panicked. Not scam him? Unacceptable!

Wait, scam? This was a legit deal! Would she, a senior, trick little Flo into a loan? She was a pure-hearted witch!

The Mindabyss Ring—others begged to pay thousands, and she wouldn’t sell! With her power, why care about Flo’s pocket change?

A witch’s excuse…

But was it true?

Not entirely false, but what if her real aim was the loan? Yanlu could easily check Flo’s finances and knew he couldn’t repay. Then she could use the debt to pressure Edith—checkmate!

But Flo wasn’t dumb. Mental-defense rings were pricey, and Yanlu, a shady merchant, selling so cheap? Definitely a trap. Friendship discount? He’d trust the church’s scheming sixth-graders over her.

“Hey! 50 gold’s fine! That’s the absolute bottom line—others beg, and I don’t sell!”

Why the bottom line? Any lower, and Flo might afford it, even with a loan…

Flo ignored the frantic witch hopping behind him. He just wanted his 20 gold. Why 20?

His original task was to rescue missing kids, but when he found the first was dead, it became a missing persons investigation.

The case wasn’t over—the Crimson Abyss wasn’t the only force involved. The Dema Trading Company’s role made it thornier, beyond an adventurer’s scope. Adventurers weren’t detectives!

The matter escalated, so the guild settled the task, doubling the reward. The empire took over—without Flo’s intel, he wouldn’t have gotten a single copper, let alone 20 gold.

Seeing Flo walk off, Yanlu plopped onto his bed, fuming, plotting her next move.

…

At the Adventurer’s Guild, post-disaster, adventurers were lively again, tables and chairs packed.

When Flo entered, the bustling hall fell silent, then erupted in whispers, now with a new topic.

“A half-elf, huh.”

“Mixed-blood bastard!”

“Bad luck…”

“The shame of the Astreya family?”

“Astreya? The saintess family? Is he a holy son?”

“Don’t make me laugh! Everyone knows Sophia’s the saintess candidate. Him? A magicless nobody! Just a roadside…”

Before he finished, a throwing knife shot from the staircase, embedding in a pillar behind him at sonic speed.

He started to curse, but a cherry-haired girl on the stairs glared, chilling him to the bone.

One look made him feel on death’s edge.

No doubt—it was Ifrora.

Flo never minded gossip, but this warmed his heart.

Ifrora descended in high heels, her cherry hair shimmering like pearls in the backlight. The adventurers shut up, awed by her celestial beauty or intimidated by the Phoenix family crest on her dress. Either way, it wasn’t her or Flo’s concern.

“Little Pink Chicken, still here?” Flo asked.

“Waiting for Mr. Goblin’s big show,” Ifrora teased, as sharp-tongued as ever.

“Thanks…” Flo mumbled, quieter than a mosquito.

“What was that? Speak up, I can’t hear~” Ifrora dropped the act, switching to battle mode.

“Thanks…” he muttered again.

“No breakfast, Mr. Goblin? So quiet.”

She was set on making him shout it. Thinking of her next move, she could barely hold back laughter.

Ifrora closed in, their distance shrinking to half an arm’s length.

Seizing the moment, Flo yelled, “I said, thank you! Hear it now, Pink Chicken?”

Ifrora tiptoed, chuckling in his ear. “That’s the goblin volume I like~”

Her fingers twirled his silver-gray hair, warm breath grazing his flushed ear. “But… your thanks lacks a bit of sincerity~”

Flo staggered back like he’d been struck by lightning, his head smacking the guild’s oak counter. He fumbled with his task scroll, the parchment crinkling. “I’ve got stuff to do…”

He turned to the receptionist. “The guild’s paying out, right?”

But it wasn’t the receptionist who answered—it was…