Ali placed the mask down on the counter with a calm, measured motion, his black eyes lingering on its intricate golden lines.
"Telekinesis…" Lisa muttered, her voice barely above a whisper, awe evident in her tone. Even though they lived in a world filled with all kinds of powers and abilities, witnessing something so seamlessly executed still managed to captivate.
Ali, as usual, paid little attention to her reaction. His gaze remained on the merchant.
"Tell me about the mask," he said plainly.
The older man nodded, picking up the mask and running his fingers along its ornate engravings, his face serious and respectful—not a trace of deception.
Ali listened, but his mind was already elsewhere.
'I wanted a mask anyway,' he thought. 'I attract too much attention as it is, and now that my name is spreading among the players, keeping my identity hidden would be the smarter move.'
The merchant cleared his throat. "This, sir, is part of a set. The Blessed Summoner Set, to be exact." He paused, glancing at Ali's face for any reaction before continuing.
"It was originally a tournament prize years ago—an item created by Paradise itself as a reward for the champion. But… the winner wasn't a summoner, so he sold the entire set at auction. Since then, it has changed hands many times, scattered across different owners. Finding the complete set now? Nearly impossible."
Ali's expression didn't shift, but internally, his focus sharpened.
'A full set made by Paradise itself? Interesting.'
"The core of the set lies in the gloves," the merchant continued. "They allow a summoner to conjure a second minion for the same Spirit cost as the first, effectively doubling their summoning power."
Ali feigned interest, though this was something he already knew.
"Unfortunately, I don't know the whereabouts of the gloves," the merchant admitted, "and as for the mask itself—its ability only activates when worn alongside the gloves."
Ali raised a brow.
"What ability?"
The merchant tapped the golden engravings. "It increases the defensive power of the additional minion summoned via the gloves by 10%. But, as I said… without the gloves, the mask is useless."
Ali's interest shifted. "I don't need its effects. I just need something to hide my face."
His fingers tapped against the counter.
"How much?"
The merchant, clearly pleased with the question, straightened his back.
"Even in its inactive state, it's still a piece of a unique set. If someone were to gather all the pieces, they'd be able to summon a third minion." He paused. "So, I'm asking for 1,000 PC."
Ali's expression remained unreadable, but inside, his thoughts whirred.
'The full set… three summons at once.'
His mind raced through the possibilities.
'Other summoners wouldn't find it very valuable as they don't have summons of equal power or would rather spend their money making their one minion stronger. But me? If I get my hands on this set, I could summon three dragons for the same Spirit cost.'
His fingers curled slightly.
'With this set, my strength would skyrocket.'
But outwardly, he remained composed.
"Would you be open to a trade instead?" Ali asked.
The merchant's face brightened. "Of course, sir!"
Lisa, however, wasn't paying attention to their conversation—her violet eyes were instead glued to Ali's muscular arms, her fascination painfully obvious.
Ali ignored her and raised his palm, summoning an object from his inventory.
A black handle materialised in his grasp.
The moment the merchant recognised what it was, his breath hitched.
Then—
SHINK.
Ali pressed the activation button, and the massive red quinque exploded outward, nearly scraping the shop's ceiling.
The merchant stared in shock.
"A… A quinque?!"
His hands twitched with the urge to examine it. "May I?"
Ali nodded and placed the colossal weapon onto the counter. The sheer size of it made it difficult to fit, with parts of it hanging off the edge.
The merchant's right eye gleamed blue as he ran his hand along the surface, activating his evaluation ability—a universal skill among the Merchant Guild that allowed them to determine an item's quality, function, and market value.
Ali watched, already knowing the result.
After a moment, the merchant exhaled sharply.
"This is an impressive weapon," he admitted. "It's a base-quality quinque with no unique ability, but… its size, durability, and raw power more than compensate. It's an ideal weapon for tanks and heavy weapon users."
The merchant rubbed his chin, considering.
Finally, he made his offer.
"This is worth far more than the mask. I can offer you 6,000 PC, plus the mask."
Before Ali could respond—
THUD.
Lisa elbowed her father.
The older man whipped his head toward her, visibly irritated, but she leaned in and whispered something into his ear.
Ali, with his enhanced hearing, picked up every word.
'She's looking for a teacher…'
Ali's mind clicked into place.
Getting the ring just became even easier.
The merchant sighed, rubbing his temples. Then, he cleared his throat.
"Sir Ali, I have a proposal."
Ali motioned for him to continue.
The older man let out a deep, tired sigh.
"My daughter, Lisa, wants to be a player." His tone dripped with disapproval. "She wants to dive into the dangerous worlds out there, despite being perfectly safe here."
Ali glanced at Lisa, who was already nodding enthusiastically.
The merchant shook his head. "She's not a skilled fighter. Not yet."
He exhaled.
"If you agree to train her—to teach her how to protect herself and properly use her equipment—I'll give you the mask for free."
Ali raised a brow. "You want me to be her teacher?"
"YES." Lisa cut in before her father could even respond, her excitement palpable.
"I'll even pay you hourly," the merchant added.
Before Ali could reply—
DING.
The bell above the door rang.
The atmosphere shifted.
A blonde woman stepped inside, her short skirt and revealing top doing little to hide her exhausted, sunken eyes. Dark circles clung beneath them, and she carried a miserable expression, as if she had long since given up on something.
Ali's eyes flicked past her—
And immediately landed on the massive figure behind her.
A large, shirtless Frenchman, his golden necklace glinting in the light, walked in.
His blue eyes locked onto Ali's.
Without hesitation, he reached out—
And grabbed the blonde woman's chest, squeezing it possessively as he pulled her against him.
She didn't resist.
Ali's eyes narrowed.
'A slave.'
'A willing one.'
'A Judgment Guild contract.'
The merchant's entire demeanour shifted.
His face twisted in rage.
"I told you not to come back here!" he snapped, his voice sharp with barely contained fury.
Lisa's hand twitched toward something behind her back.
Ali already knew—
'A handgun.'
The Frenchman's smirk widened.
Then, in perfect, fluent French, he spoke.
His slave translated.
"I know who you are. What brings you to this shitty little shop?"
Ali didn't look at her.
His gaze remained on the Frenchman.
And his voice was calm.
"It's none of your fucking business. Now wait in line."
STEP.
The Frenchman took a single step forward, his towering presence looming over the shop. His blue eyes darkened, the arrogance in his expression unwavering.
But the moment his foot touched the ground—
His entire body froze.
Every muscle in his massive frame locked up as if he had been chained by something unseen, something crushing.
The weight pressed down on the Frenchman's shoulders, forcing him to his knees. His breaths turned ragged, his chest heaving violently under the invisible pressure.
His smirk disappeared.
For the first time—his face twisted in anger.
"I CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL!"
The blonde slave at his side immediately began translating—
Or at least, she tried.
COUGH. COUGH.
Her breath hitched.
Her eyes widened in horror as she fell forward, clutching at her throat.
Her lips parted, gasping, but no air came.
The pressure around her neck tightened.
She reached out in desperation, her fingers trembling, her nails clawing at her own skin—
But it was useless.
She was suffocating.
Ali didn't even look at her.
His gaze remained on the Frenchman.
His voice was calm.
His words were absolute.
"Wait. In. Line."
The Frenchman's teeth clenched as his fury erupted, his veins bulging under his skin.
For a brief moment, he struggled—fighting against the crushing force weighing him down.
But no matter how much strength he poured into his body—
He couldn't move.
His mind raced.
'How strong is he?!'
Then—
SHINE.
His golden necklace pulsed with radiant light.
The glow spread across his body—
And in an instant—
The weight disappeared.
Freed from Ali's Force, he immediately sprung backward, retreating without hesitation. His large hand shot out, gripping the blonde slave by her arm—
And the same golden light enveloped her as well.
She fell to the ground, gasping violently, her entire body trembling from the lingering terror of suffocation.
Ali narrowed his eyes.
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