The crowd of women didn't just want the pegs; they were vibrating with the kind of frantic energy I usually only saw during a limited-edition anime collaboration launch or a half-off bento sale at midnight. They were shoving, shouting, and waving copper coins in my face like they were trying to buy their way into heaven.
Martha, the Innkeeper, looked like she was about to start throwing punches just to keep them from trashing her common room. Margot was backed against the wall, clutching a laundry basket like a shield.
"Everyone! Shut the fuck up!" I bellowed.
The authority in my voice—honed by a decade of yelling over rowdy drunks and noisy refrigerators—cut through the noise. The courtyard went silent. I adjusted the collar of my scratchy linen tunic, trying to maintain the dignity of a high-end CEO despite looking like I'd just crawled out of a swamp.
"I am Kai, and this is my establishment for the day," I said, stepping onto a wooden crate. "We will have order. If you want the 'Ever-Grips,' you will form a single, straight line. No pushing. No cutting. If you fight or try to cut the line, you get nothing. Line up!"
It took a few minutes of grumbling, but the habit of social order is a powerful thing when a man looks that confident. Soon, a line snaked out of the courtyard and into the muddy street.
[ Ping! ] [ System: Look at you, herding sheep. You still have ¥5,200 and a 'Shadow Tax' mark on your door. Are you really going to waste your time on laundry supplies? ]
Watch and learn, you glorified calculator, I thought. Volume is king.
I opened the System interface behind my eyes, my fingers twitching in the air as if swiping a screen only I could see.
"System, procurement order," I whispered. "I need two tiers of inventory. Give me 500 Basic Bamboo Clothespegs and 300 Premium Neon-Blue Plastic Pegs. Now."
[ Processing... ] [ Bamboo Pegs: ¥1,000 (Bulk Discount). Logistics: ¥15,000. ] [ Plastic Pegs: ¥2,000. Logistics: ¥10,000. ] [ Total Cost: ¥28,000. ] [ Balance: ¥5,200. ] [ Warning: Insufficient Funds. You are ¥22,800 short, you delusional peasant. ]
My heart skipped a beat. Right. The logistics fees were killing me. I had to pivot. I couldn't buy the whole stock at once. I had to "Just-In-Time" my inventory, exactly like a convenience store with limited shelf space.
"Fine. Give me 60 Bamboo and 30 Plastic to start. Keep the rest in the 'cart' until I have the Yen."
[ Transaction Confirmed. Current Balance: ¥1,400. ]
The weight of the pegs appeared in the large pockets Margot had sewn into my tunic earlier. I stepped down from the crate and faced the first customer.
"Welcome to the Old Oak Trading Post," I said. "We have two options today. The 'Natural Oak Series'—sturdy, reliable, and classic. These are 12 bronze for three pegs. Then, we have the 'Celestial Blue Series'. They never rot, they never break, and they grip like a dragon's tooth. Those are 30 bronze for every three pegs."
I saw the hesitation in the first woman's eyes. 12 bronze was a lot for a peasant.
"However," I added, leaning in. "Today only, we have a 'Volume Incentive.' Buy twelve pegs of either type, and you get one additional peg for free. A baker's dozen for the wise housekeeper."
The word "Free" worked in Gaea just as well as it worked on Earth. It's a universal trigger. The woman's eyes lit up. "Twelve! I'll take twelve of the Natural ones!"
She handed over 48 bronze coins. The moment they touched my hand, I didn't even put them in a pouch.
"System, Deposit and Convert," I commanded mentally.
[ 48 Bronze Deposited. +¥2,400 added to Wallet. Balance: ¥3,800. ]
The coins vanished from my palm, seemingly slipping into the folds of my tunic. The woman didn't care; she was too busy staring at her new bamboo pegs.
The line moved. Next. Next. Next.
The math was beautiful. Every time I sold a set, I used the instant Yen conversion to buy more stock from the "cart" and extract it. Because the items were small and light, the logistics fee didn't bankrupt me as long as I kept the cash flowing.
Then, the "Well-Dressed Woman" stepped up. She wore a fine wool cloak dyed a deep indigo, and her fingers were adorned with silver rings. She didn't look like she did her own laundry; she looked like she owned the people who did.
"I am Mistress Elara," she said, her voice dripping with the boredom of the wealthy. "My manor has three laundry maids and a constant struggle with the valley winds. These blue 'stones'... they truly don't rot?"
"Mistress Elara," I said, bowing just the right amount—not too low, like a servant, but with the respectful distance of a high-end boutique manager. "The 'Celestial Blue' is made of a material that will outlast the stone walls of this inn. It laughs at rain. It mocks the sun."
I pulled one out and handed it to her. She felt the smooth, industrial finish of the plastic. In this world of rough wood and rusted iron, the sheer smoothness of 21st-century manufacturing was an intoxicating luxury.
"I'll take one hundred," she said calmly.
The crowd gasped. Margot dropped her basket. Martha stopped mid-pour of an ale.
"One hundred," I repeated, my smile widening. "A wise investment. For a bulk order of that size, the price would be 1,000 bronze. But for a lady of your status, I will honor the 'Buy 12, Get 1 Free' deal. You will receive 108 pegs for the price of 1,000 bronze... and I will include a personal demonstration for your maids tomorrow."
She pulled a heavy silk pouch from her belt and thudded it onto the table. It wasn't bronze. It was silver.
[ Appraisal: 10 Silver Coins. ] [ Value: 100 Bronze each. Total: 1,000 Bronze. ]
"Deposit," I whispered.
[ 10 Silver Deposited. +¥50,000 added to Wallet. ] [ Current Balance: ¥52,400. ] [ System Comment: ...I take it back. You aren't a scumbag. You're an economic virus. You just turned a ¥500 pack of plastic into a fortune. ]
By the time the sun reached its zenith, I was leaning against the table, my legs shaking with exhaustion. The line was finally gone. The courtyard was empty of customers, but full of the scent of woodsmoke and the lingering buzz of a successful "Grand Opening."
I checked the ledger in my mind.
[ Sales Summary: ]
Bamboo Pegs Sold: 480
Plastic Pegs Sold: 240
Total Pegs: 720
Total Profit (Converted): ¥240,000.
Two hundred and forty thousand yen. In a single morning, I had gone from a bankrupt peasant in a scratchy tunic to a man with the buying power of a small-town executive. I could buy medicine. I could buy high-end tools. I could even buy a decent suit.
Martha walked over, staring at me like I was a ghost. "Where'd the coins go, Kai? I saw that silver pouch. You haven't got a bulge in your pockets big enough for a thousand bronze."
"Merchant secrets, Martha," I said, patting my flat stomach. "A good merchant never keeps his wealth where a thief can see it."
But even as I said it, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. The sun was out, but the shadows in the corner of the courtyard felt unnaturally long.
A man was standing by the gate. He wasn't a woman looking for laundry pegs. He was tall, thin, and wore the copper badge of the Merchant's Guild on his chest. But underneath his fine silk cloak, I saw the glint of a red-handled dagger.
"Kai Katsuragi?" he asked, his voice smooth and cold. "I am Inspector Vane. I couldn't help but notice you've sold over seven hundred items this morning without a single permit. That carries a fine of... well, let's just say everything you made today belongs to the Guild now."
I looked at him. Then I looked at the three thugs stepping out from behind the stables.
[ Warning: Combat Likely. ] [ Survival Probability: 3%. ] [ System: Would you like to spend ¥50,000 on the 'Tactical Flash-Bang' or the 'Electric Cattle Prod'? Or should I start writing your obituary again? ]
I looked at Vane and felt the old "Manager Rage" bubbling up. I had worked too hard for this ¥240,000 to let some medieval tax collector take it.
"Inspector Vane," I said, reaching into my pocket. "I was just about to come find you. But I think you'll find my 'permit' is much more interesting than a piece of paper."