The merchant's hand paused over the terminal for a fraction of a second.
Aldric leaned forward slightly.
"…Now that I think about it."
He tilted his head toward the appraisal screen still glowing with the final value.
"That feels a bit low for all of this."
The merchant never looked away from the interface.
"It is a fair market evaluation."
Aldric scoffed immediately.
"Fair? We brought you an entire graveyard."
The merchant finally glanced at him.
"In Blackwater, 'fair' already includes a premium for surviving the transaction."
Aldric opened his mouth—
then paused.
Draven's calm voice came from the side.
"Maybe you should have argued before accepting the payment."
Aldric pointed at him instantly.
"You're the one who moved too fast. Your damn eyes were locked onto the money the whole time."
Draven didn't respond.
He simply looked away, as if the conversation had already ended.
The cultist spoke next, her tone level and composed.
"The valuation is acceptable. The guild will resell the materials at a significantly higher margin regardless."
Aldric turned toward her.
"So you admit it's a scam."
"I admit it is a system."
"That's just a scam with extra steps."
Before the argument could continue, the merchant exhaled quietly and adjusted his stance.
"…If you believe the evaluation is insufficient, you are welcome to submit a dispute."
Aldric immediately leaned closer.
"Oh? So we *can* negotiate for more?"
The merchant didn't answer immediately.
Instead, his mechanical eyepiece flickered faintly as it began rescanning the lingering mana residue surrounding the corpses.
Then his gaze shifted.
Not toward the corpses this time—
but toward the group themselves.
"…Out of curiosity."
A brief pause followed.
"You said you killed these yourselves?"
Aldric raised a brow.
"Yeah. What about it?"
The merchant's eye narrowed slightly.
A subtle pressure drifted through the room.
Not hostile.
Analytical.
The kind of scrutiny that tried to measure exactly what stood in front of him.
"…That many trolls," he muttered. "Including a blue variant… and a king…"
His gaze lingered a little too long.
"…And none of you are injured."
The cultist answered calmly.
"That is correct."
The merchant's attention sharpened further.
The eyepiece emitted a faint tone as he activated a deeper scan.
Aldric noticed immediately.
His smile faded slightly.
"…Hey."
The merchant didn't stop.
The device clicked softly as it attempted a full mana reading.
Aldric's eyes shifted slowly.
Then—
his voice dropped.
"…You should stop that."
The temperature in the room didn't change.
But something else did.
The merchant paused mid-process.
His mechanical eye suddenly stuttered.
A warning tone flickered through the device.
Error.
Interference.
Target unreadable.
He frowned faintly.
"…Strange."
He tried again.
Mana output spike—
then immediate suppression.
The scan refused to stabilize.
Aldric took one slow step forward.
Not rushing.
Not aggressive.
Simply closing the distance.
"…I'm already a little annoyed right now," Aldric said quietly. "So I won't mind plucking your damn eye out if you keep poking around with that thing."
The merchant's posture stiffened.
For the first time—
his professional composure cracked.
The eyepiece attempted another scan.
Failed again.
Then, faintly—
a pressure slipped into the room.
Not released.
Merely *noticed*.
The merchant felt it instantly.
A chill crawled down his spine.
His instincts reacted before his thoughts did.
Danger.
Not because of one person.
But because all of them stood there acting as though none of this was remotely dangerous.
He slowly lowered his hand.
"…My apologies."
Aldric blinked once.
Then his grin returned just as quickly.
"Oh."
His shoulders relaxed immediately.
"Good choice."
The merchant exhaled carefully and stepped back from the terminal.
"I was merely performing standard verification."
The cultist spoke without emotion.
"Standard verification is unnecessary when the corpses themselves are already present."
A pause.
"Unless you intend to dispute ownership."
"No," the merchant replied immediately.
Too quickly.
Aldric pointed at him.
"See? That's growth."
The merchant ignored him and adjusted the eyepiece again.
"…I misjudged the situation."
He paused briefly before continuing more carefully.
"If you truly are the ones who eliminated an A-rank target with this level of… combat consistency…"
His gaze drifted toward Draven.
Then Aldric.
Then the cultist.
"…Then I would rather avoid escalating misunderstandings."
Aldric nodded approvingly.
"A smart merchant."
Then his eyes narrowed slightly.
"…But not *that* smart. You only became reasonable after sensing danger."
The merchant didn't deny it.
"That is generally how survival works."
Silence settled briefly across the reinforced chamber.
Then Aldric leaned back again.
"Alright."
He gestured lazily toward the mountain of corpses.
"So are we done here, or do we get more money?"
The merchant checked the terminal one final time.
"…The guild will process extraction and resale."
He turned slightly.
"You will be notified if additional value is determined."
Aldric frowned instantly.
"That sounds suspiciously close to 'we might steal your money later.'"
The reinforced chamber remained thick with the smell of blood, iron, and troll flesh while the merchant stood beside the glowing appraisal terminal.
The corpse pile still occupied nearly half the room.
A severed troll arm slowly slid further down the mound with a wet sound.
Nobody acknowledged it anymore.
Aldric suddenly smiled.
Not the lazy grin from earlier.
Sharper.
More amused.
"…But this isn't going to be the end of it, is it?"
The merchant's mechanical eye flickered once.
"…What do you mean?"
Aldric pushed himself off the reinforced table and walked forward slowly.
"You tried peeking at us."
A pause.
"Secretly."
His grin widened slightly.
"For a third-star."
Silence.
"…I don't know where you got that kind of confidence from."
The room grew quieter after that.
Even the containment formations humming across the walls seemed softer somehow.
The merchant stared at him for a moment before exhaling through his nose.
"…Wouldn't anyone?"
A pause.
"If a group that looked younger than fifteen walked in carrying a mountain of C-rank and B-rank monster corpses?"
Silence.
Aldric opened his mouth—
then stopped.
He slowly looked toward the corpse pile.
Then toward Draven.
Then the cultist.
Then Nia.
Then himself.
The merchant… actually had a point.
"…Huh."
Aldric scratched lightly at his cheek.
"I guess that *is* kind of weird."
The cultist stared at him blankly.
"…You only realized that just now?"
Aldric immediately looked toward her.
"Well excuse me for not acting like a damn child."
The cultist ignored him entirely.
Instead, she calmly reached into her coat.
A small metallic object unfolded into her hand.
Click.
A faint hologram projected upward.
An NID.
A National Identity Document.
A transparent blue display revealed her face, identification number, citizenship registry, and age-verification seals rotating softly beneath layered security markers.
The merchant's mechanical eye focused instantly.
The cultist spoke calmly.
"As you can see."
A brief pause.
"I am not a child."
Then—
Snap.
The hologram vanished as she folded the device away.
Aldric stared at her.
"…Yeah. What's your point?"
The cultist looked deeply unimpressed.
"My point is that your argument is idiotic."
Aldric ignored that immediately and turned back toward the merchant.
"Anyway."
He folded his arms.
"Let's discuss how you're compensating us."
The merchant blinked once.
"…Compensating?"
Aldric smiled again.
"A few gold coins should do it."
A pause.
"And I mean physical ones."
Silence.
The merchant stared at him.
Aldric stared back with complete shamelessness.
The room remained quiet for several long seconds.
Then the merchant sighed heavily through his nose like a man steadily losing a battle against exhaustion itself.
He reached into his coat.
A small pouch flew through the air toward Aldric.
Clink.
Aldric caught it instantly.
The merchant spoke flatly.
"There are twenty gold coins inside."
Aldric weighed the pouch once in his hand.
His expression remained entirely unimpressed.
"…Twenty, huh."
A pause.
"I guess that'll do."
The merchant's jaw tightened slightly.
Not enough to argue.
Just enough to show visible emotional damage.
Nearby, the cultist folded her arms.
"…You're robbing him because you didn't receive a share."
Aldric looked genuinely offended.
"Don't just throw around accusations like that."
He pointed dramatically toward her.
"Were you even listening?"
A pause.
"It's compensation."
The cultist stared at him for a full second.
"…If calling it that helps you sleep at night."
Aldric nodded proudly.
"It actually does."
The merchant moved immediately before the conversation could deteriorate any further.
Honestly, a wise decision.
He walked toward the reinforced door and pressed one hand against the side panel.
The layered formations unlocked with a low mechanical hum.
Then the heavy door slid open.
Cooler air drifted in from the outer corridor.
The merchant stepped aside slightly.
"…Your business with the guild is complete."
Aldric tossed the pouch once in his hand before stuffing it into his coat.
"…See?"
He glanced sideways toward the cultist as he walked.
"Profitable day."
The cultist sighed quietly.
"You extorted a merchant."
"I emotionally negotiated."
"That is not a real phrase."
"It is now."
Draven walked past them calmly beneath the dark cloak without reacting to the argument in the slightest.
Nia quietly followed beside him while carefully holding the remains of her pastry in both hands.
The black cat's purple eyes lingered briefly on the merchant before disappearing beneath the hood once more.
The merchant visibly relaxed the moment the group began leaving the room.
Honestly understandable.
Behind them—
the mountain of troll corpses remained piled beneath glowing containment formations while the reinforced chamber slowly sealed shut once more.
And perhaps for the first time all day—
the merchant genuinely felt that twenty gold had been worth every coin.