A few more days passed since the rivalry began, and the tension in the market still hung thick like dust after a storm. Khan Kiryana Store wasn't empty, but it wasn't what it used to be either.
The regular chatter of customers had dimmed. Even Aisha, usually bright and composed, now looked weary as she flipped through the ledgers at the counter.
Ashburn leaned against the shelf, watching the street through the glass door — the crowd flowing toward Prime Mart across the lane, carrying their new loyalty cards like badges of belonging.
That evening, as he closed the shutters, a familiar chime echoed softly in his mind.
> System Notification: Three months have passed. Evaluation period approaching.
Alert: A challenge has been detected. This is a test of judgment and adaptability.
System assistance disabled temporarily. Use your abilities and experience to overcome the situation.
Ashburn blinked, momentarily stunned. "A test?" he murmured quietly. "So even you want to see what I'll do."
He took a deep breath, feeling a wave of clarity instead of frustration. For the first time, he didn't feel dependent — he felt challenged.
A faint smile curved his lips. "Alright, system," he said under his breath, locking the door. "Let's play this your way."
---
The next morning, he arrived at the shop before sunrise. The city of Ashrock was still half asleep — the faint aroma of bread baking somewhere, a few stray cats crossing the narrow street.
He grabbed his notepad and pen, something he hadn't used in months, and decided to go out personally.
Aisha noticed. "Where are you going so early?"
He replied calmly, "Survey. I need to understand what people actually want, not what I think they want."
She raised a brow. "After all this time, now you're doing a survey?"
He smiled. "Sometimes, the answers hide in plain sight."
---
For the next few days, Ashburn moved across neighbourhoods — talking, listening, watching.
He stopped at tea stalls, spoke with old shopkeepers, small vendors, mothers buying groceries with careful hands, and workers who balanced their income down to the last rupee.
He used his Truth Seeker ability quietly — not visibly, but through the way he listened and read people.
Most shopkeepers admitted that prices alone didn't decide everything. Trust mattered. Consistency mattered. People came to the shops they felt understood them.
At night, Ashburn sat with his notebook filled with scribbles and circles, applying his Risk Mapping skill to identify weak points — his delivery timing, the lack of emotional connection, the absence of long-term loyalty.
"People switch for a rupee," he thought, staring at the lines. "But they stay for trust."
It was then that the idea of a true loyalty system crossed his mind — not cards or discounts, but something more human.
---
A few days later, while walking through the older part of Ashrock, Ashburn found himself in a narrow alley he rarely visited. The walls were cracked, but the energy of the place was alive.
Vendors shouted, children ran barefoot, and the smell of spices and fried bread filled the air.
Then he noticed it — a small general store tucked between two brick houses. It had no fancy signboard, no banners, and no salesmen shouting offers. Yet, people crowded around it constantly.
Curious, Ashburn stopped near the entrance and watched for a while. The shop owner, a gray-haired man in his fifties, sat behind the counter, writing something in a notebook as customers came and went.
People picked up goods casually — rice, soap, sugar — and instead of paying, they would speak briefly with the old man, who would nod, smile, and jot something down.
Ashburn frowned slightly. "They're not paying?"
He stepped closer and whispered to one of the customers leaving the shop, "Brother, do they really allow purchases on credit here?"
The man chuckled. "Yes, it's called Khata. We buy what we need and pay everything at the start of next month. It's been like that for years."
Another woman joined the conversation, balancing a bag on her shoulder. "We trust him, and he trusts us. Sometimes, even if we're late, he waits. That's why no one goes elsewhere."
Ashburn nodded slowly, realization dawning. "So it's not about price. It's about faith."
---
He came again the next day, standing quietly at a corner, observing the flow.
His Quick Appraisal skill activated almost unconsciously, analyzing how fast the inventory rotated, how consistent the buyer flow remained, and how efficiently the old man handled all the ledgers.
There was no digital screen, no machine — just handwritten notes, organized by family name and date. Yet it was perfect.
The system in his mind almost hummed in approval.
Ashburn smiled. "Old world efficiency," he whispered, "fueled by trust instead of tech."
---
After a few more visits, he gathered courage and approached the counter one evening when the crowd had thinned.
"Uncle, your shop seems to be running very well. I've been watching for a few days," Ashburn said politely.
The old man looked up with a gentle grin. "Observation is good, young man. It means you're learning."
Ashburn smiled. "I'm Ashburn, I run a kiryana store not far from here. I wanted to ask about this Khata system. It seems… simple, yet powerful. How do you manage it without problems?"
The old man chuckled softly. "Because I know my people, son. Every entry in this book isn't just a number, it's a relationship. You don't need to chase customers when they feel you trust them."
Ashburn nodded deeply, those words striking something within him. "Would you teach me? I can pay you for your time."
The man looked at him for a while, then smiled again. "No payment needed. But bring me some of that good tea from your part of town next time."
---
Over the next few days, Ashburn became almost like an apprentice. He learned the balance between generosity and caution, how to record debts properly, how to remind gently but firmly, and most importantly — how to build a community shop, not just a business.
He noticed how the old man's regulars greeted him like family, how he knew every child's name, and how the trust cycle created loyalty stronger than any discount ever could.
At night, Ashburn wrote everything down, analyzing each principle through his Risk Mapping skill.
He saw the weak points — fraud, delayed payments, risk of manipulation — but his system mind calculated ways to minimize each one.
Combine old trust with modern management — that was the key.
---
One evening, while walking home after another lesson, he looked up at the glowing sign of Prime Mart in the distance.
"Keep your discounts," he muttered quietly. "I'll build something you can't copy."
There was no system hint, no magic guidance — just his own conviction echoing in his mind.
And for the first time since the rivalry began, Ashburn smiled with genuine confidence.