The notification about a "Market Rival" lingered in Omar's vision like a cold warning. He realized that the world was much deeper than he had imagined. Marrakech wasn't just a city of tourists and markets; it was a battlefield for those who had "Awakened."
"Kaelen, stay in the shop," Omar ordered. "If I'm being tracked, I don't want them seeing a seven-foot ghost knight following me."
Omar walked out into the Jemaa el-Fnaa square. The sun was setting, casting long, orange shadows over the performers and food stalls. Using his [Merchant's Eye], he scanned the crowd.
Usually, he saw "Status: Normal" or "Desire: Food." But then, he saw it.
In the corner of a traditional cafe, a woman sat alone. She was dressed in a modern black leather jacket, sipping mint tea. Above her head, the window was different—it was Gold.
Name: Laila "The Shadow Fox."
Rank: B-Class Hunter (Assassin Sub-class).
Affiliation: The Atlas Hunter's Guild.
Hidden Desire: Finding a cure for her poisoned daggers.
Status: Searching for the 'Anomaly' (You).
Omar felt a shiver. She wasn't just a customer; she was a predator. Before he could turn away, her eyes locked onto his. She smiled—a sharp, dangerous smile—and beckoned him over.
"You're a hard person to find, little merchant," Laila said as Omar sat down. Her voice was smooth but had an edge like a razor.
"I didn't know I was being looked for," Omar replied, trying to keep his pulse steady.
Laila leaned in, the scent of expensive perfume and cold steel surrounding her. "When a dying billionaire suddenly grows five years younger and a group of thugs gets tossed around by a 'spirit', the Guild notices. You're an Unregistered Merchant, Omar. That's a dangerous title."
"Is it a crime to do business?"
"In our world? Yes, if the Guild doesn't get its cut," she flicked a small, green coin onto the table. It was carved from jade and pulsed with energy. "This is a Mana-Coin. The currency of the Awakened. I was sent to 'evaluate' you. To see if we should recruit you... or eliminate the competition."
Omar looked at the coin, then at her. He activated his eye again, searching for a gap in her armor.
"Your daggers," Omar whispered. "The poison on them... it's backfiring, isn't it? It's eating away at your own Mana veins. You have maybe three months before your heart stops."
Laila's smile vanished. Her hand instinctively went to her waist. "How do you..."
"I'm a Merchant, Laila. I don't see people; I see values and debts," Omar said, regaining his confidence. "The Guild wants to 'evaluate' me? Tell them this: I don't work for anyone. But I can sell you the antidote. Something the Guild's best healers can't even dream of."
Laila stared at him, her predatory gaze replaced by a flicker of hope—and fear. "And what do you want in return, Merchant?"
Omar leaned back, the lights of the square reflecting in his eyes. "Information. I want to know about every 'Portal' that has opened in Morocco in the last year. And I want the Guild to stay out of my alley."
[New Quest: The Hunter's Pact.]
[Objective: Cure Laila to gain a powerful ally in the Atlas Guild.]
[Reward: Access to the 'Hunter's Black Market'.]
"I'll bring you the list tomorrow," Laila stood up, her composure back. "But be careful, Omar. The Atlas Guild isn't the only one watching. The 'Shadow Market' from Europe is moving into North Africa. They don't negotiate... they take."
As she disappeared into the crowd, Omar felt the weight of the world getting heavier. He wasn't just a shopkeeper anymore. He was a player in a global game of power.
"Kaelen," Omar sent a mental message to the shop. "Fire up the furnace. We're not just making steel tonight. We're making a statement."