Ch. 37 - Trading the Old for the New

Buying items was often a game of chance.

Something you'd desperately wanted might have been gathering dust on a vendor's stall just yesterday, its price slashed repeatedly without a buyer in sight. Yet, the very next day, it could be gone without a trace, leaving you to regret what could have been.

Zuo Chengan wandered through the market, his eyes darting over countless items.

Among them, a green storage waist pouch caught his attention. The seller was asking a hefty 430 credits for it.

The pouch, no larger than two palms pressed together, could miraculously hold a meter-long ring-pommeled sword and an additional 5 kg of miscellaneous items—all without adding a single ounce to its weight.

Typically, mundane items like food, water, or clothing couldn't be taken into dungeons, but storing them in magical gear like this was a neat loophole.

Owning such a storage item could be a game-changer for survival missions, broadening the range of strategies and options available.

If Zuo Chengan sold his prized Swift Rat Dagger, he could just barely afford the pouch.

But aside from a container for his stash of tomato sauce, he also wanted a slightly longer weapon—something durable, even if its attributes were mediocre.

After a moment of hesitation, he decided against the pouch and moved on.

He returned to the stall selling the insulated flask, weighing his options.

If he could haggle the price down a bit more, he'd buy it right then.

If not, he could try his luck over the next couple of days or enlist the help of Yu Le and his gang of kids to keep an eye out.

There was no rush; he wasn't planning to dive into a dungeon right away. In the meantime, he could stockpile some tomato sauce—after all, it was better to have too much than too little of something life-saving.

The stall owner spotted Zuo Chengan from a distance and called out, "Hey, young man! Still interested? I'll let it go for 160 credits."

"150," Zuo Chengan countered.

The vendor hesitated before finally agreeing. He'd already made enough points to coast for three weeks, so losing out on a mere ten or twenty credits didn't bother him much.

With 150 credits transferred, Zuo Chengan's balance dropped to a mere 190.

Having checked off one of his main objectives, he felt no urgency and strolled through the market leisurely, keeping an eye out for a decently priced long-bladed weapon.

As he browsed, he activated his Eye of Truth, scanning each item in the hope of stumbling upon a hidden gem, much like the protagonists in those fantastical novels he'd read.

Of course, such luck was unlikely.

The game had thoughtfully labeled every item with its name, purpose, and limitations. At best, Zuo Chengan could glean more detailed information, such as the dungeon of origin for each piece of equipment.

"Huh?"

Just as he was about to walk past a stall, Zuo Chengan backtracked.

Among the items on display was a seemingly unremarkable strip of rusted metal wrapped in bandages. According to the game's interface, it was a white-tier item, but its origin caught his attention: a Level7 dungeon.

A Level7 dungeon! Not a single person in Safe Zone 7 had managed to clear one yet.

Only the veteran zones, like Safe Zone 1 or Safe Zone 2, with their deep histories and elite players, could boast such achievements.

How could a Level7 dungeon produce a white-tier item?

[&·#*: Origin—Dungeon 7-015: Godforge. Damage Level (98.66%): Severe.]

Ah, so it's damaged. That explains its low grade.

Still, what truly intrigued Zuo Chengan was its name: [&·#*]

More garbled characters. Among them were symbols Zuo Chengan had seen before. Double hashmarks "##" had appeared in a message from the Tower of Ascension, and the asterisks "**" in a note left by the dungeon boss, Red-Eye. As for the ampersand "&" and dot "·," those were new.

He was tempted to buy it, but showing too much interest would invite price gouging.

To throw off the vendor, Zuo Chengan picked up a random item from the stall—a tool resembling a roadside rock.

"This is interesting. How much?"

The vendor wasn't hiding his identity, proudly sporting a jacket with the insignia of the Tidal Surge Guild. He might as well have painted "I'm with the Tidal Surge" across his forehead.

"Oh, the little Flying Pebble? 130 credits."

"130? That's a bit steep. Its attack method is too limited to justify the price."

"True, but it has unlimited uses. That alone makes it worth over a hundred credits. Plus, it has an auto-return feature. It could pull off some surprising feats."

The vendor had a point. Items with limited uses typically only fetched a few dozen credits. Only items without usage limits could command prices over 100—aside from healing items, which were in a league of their own.

Zuo Chengan made idle conversation while casually inspecting other items on the stall, occasionally asking about prices, including the garbled-name weapon.

The vendor wasn't surprised; the battered item had drawn attention throughout the day due to its odd appearance.

"Oh, that one? 120 credits. No clue which dungeon it came from—it was just part of a lot I picked up. The stats seemed average, so I threw it in for sale."

…

[&·#*]

[Category: Weapon]

[Effect: Deals damage. Attack +3.]

[Restriction: Heavy. Attempting to sell it as scrap may result in a beating.]

[Description: When you're at your wit's end and pass by a recycling station, you might make a decision that defies your ancestors' wishes.]

…

A weapon with a mere +3 Attack, White quality, and an unappealing appearance.

Yet, it had no usage limit, and 120 credits wasn't an outrageous price.

Still, most wouldn't spend their hard-earned points on something so underwhelming when they could get a shiny new weapon with the same stats for the same price.

The stall owner scratched his head, somewhat embarrassed. "It's not the best deal, but look how unique it is! The name's a jumble of symbols, and it's ridiculously heavy—probably weighs as much as three buckets of water."

"Uniqueness doesn't fill your stomach," Zuo Chengan quipped, feigning disinterest.

He shifted his focus back to haggling over the Flying Pebble, deliberately ignoring the cryptic weapon.

At one point, he pulled out his Swift Rat Dagger and asked the stall owner for a quote. "Since you mentioned you buy items in bulk to resell, how much would you give me for this?"

"I'd offer 80 credits. I've got to make a profit, after all."

"How about this?" Zuo Chengan suddenly proposed. "I'll give you the dagger plus 100 credits. In exchange, I want the flying stone and that garbled-name weapon. Clears your inventory, doesn't it?"

The rusted iron, with its yellowed bandages and thin layer of dust, clearly hadn't seen much interest beyond a few curious glances.

The vendor hesitated. He could resell a sleek dagger for 120 credits, plus 100 in cash, in exchange for two items—one of which had been gathering dust for weeks. It wasn't a bad deal.

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