I gazed at the mustached man, excitement stirring within me.
Yet I kept my expression neutral.
The mustached man's desperation for that bronze mirror revealed its exceptional nature.
Finding a Demonic Beast Core wouldn't prove particularly challenging.
So I held all the cards.
"The mirror's off the table, but I might part with the two Bronze Plaques," I stated.
The mustached man shot back, "The mirror's all I want. Keep your Bronze Plaques."
"Then we're done here. I don't really need a Demonic Beast Core anyway," I muttered.
With that, I spun around, preparing to walk away.
The mustached man pondered silently, then suddenly seized my arm, whispering, "Alright, alright, let's make the deal. Fate brought us together, after all."
As he spoke, he began retrieving cores from his Spatial Magic Artifact.
Within moments, he produced three Demonic Beast Cores and eight millennium-old medicinal herbs.
The mustached man hadn't exaggerated, I had to admit.
