"This is a very useful tier-1 charm, okay?" Pierre stood before the appraiser with the Blank Love Letter resting on the showcase. "It's worth more than $60, and you know it!"
The elderly man with a unique crystal monocle, donning a black tailcoat tuxedo, a bald head, and a white mustache, spoke with dead eyes and poise, "Young sir, this is a guild shop, a place where our esteemed executioners may find useful items to aid them in their next gate raid or break. What will an executioner do with your love letter?"
Fury flared up within Pierre, and he gritted his teeth. "You're lying! I know it's not only executioners that come to guild shops. Rich normies come around, too. Are they going to shop for items that help them on gate raids or breaks? If I give you this item for $60, I can bet my life you will sell it for nothing less than a thousand dollars."
Pierre explained his case, but the appraiser remained indifferent, those dead eyes bearing down on him.
