The plaza was silent, but not a peaceful kind of silence.
It was a paranoid silence.
The people who survived the dog attack no longer gathered in one spot. They spread out. They sat in small groups, backs pressed against walls, eyes darting wildly toward the darkness.
Those holding weapons I made—[Rat Claw] or [Hound Dagger]—now hid them inside jackets or within folds of clothing.
They learned one fatal lesson tonight: Holding an asset makes you a target.
The archer's attack on the roof earlier had destroyed market confidence. Having a weapon was no longer a guarantee of safety, but an invitation to be killed.
I sat leaning against a concrete pillar, far from them. Miri was asleep at my feet, its belly distended full of iron, snoring with the sound of a quiet diesel engine.
In front of me, a transparent blue screen floated.
Only I could see it.
[LOCAL AUCTION HOUSE (Range: 5km)]
[Users Online: 142]
[Active Listings: 8]
"One hundred forty-two users, but only eight listings?" I mumbled.
The ratio was lopsided.
But this made sense. These were the first hours of the market opening. Most people were still afraid. They thought if they put an item on "Auction," the system would steal it from their hands. Distrust of new infrastructure was the biggest economic barrier.
Only the reckless or the desperate dared to list right now.
I started scrolling.
The interface was rough. Like an internet forum from the 90s.
And the content... was a mess.
[Listing #001]
Item: Aqua Bottle 1.5 Liter (Sealed)
Seller: Survivor69
Price: 1 Rare Weapon
Note: I'm thirsty. Trade for strong weapon.
[Listing #002]
Item: Luxury Apartment Key on 40th Floor
Seller: KingOfSunter
Price: 10 Breads
I massaged my temples.
This market was stupid. No price standardization. People were still valuing items based on immediate biological needs (thirst/hunger) or old-world prestige (apartments), not intrinsic system value.
Who would trade a Rare weapon for a bottle of water? You could use that weapon to seize a truckload of water.
"Inefficient markets are opportunities for arbitrage," I whispered, trying to stay optimistic.
I decided to test the market.
I had excess stock.
I selected one [Hound Tooth Dagger] (Common) from my inventory. Good quality, +2 Agility. Solid weapon for beginners.
I pressed the [Create Listing] button.
[Item: Hound Tooth Dagger]
[Price: 1 Beast Core (Any Type) OR 5kg Steel]
[Duration: 1 Hour]
I smiled thinly. A fair price.
I posted it. The listing appeared at the very top.
I waited.
One minute.
Five minutes.
[Views: 45]
[Bids: 0]
Forty-five people saw it. No one bid.
There were "Silent Observers" out there. People just monitoring prices but lacking the capital to buy.
Then, a new listing appeared right above mine.
[Listing #009]
Item: Rusty Iron Pipe (Common)
Seller: Anon404
Price: 1 Water Bottle
Status: SOLD (Instant)
My eyes narrowed.
Trash iron pipe sold in 3 seconds just because it was priced for water.
While my +2 Agility dagger remained untouched.
I had just made a rookie mistake.
I valued the market based on Future Value (Stats, Damage).
The market valued items based on Present Value (Basic Survival).
These people were thirsty, hungry, and scared. They didn't care about +2 Agility. They cared that their throats were dry.
I was trying to sell tech stocks to drowning people who needed a life vest.
"Damn," I cursed. "I overestimated market rationality."
I pulled my listing. Cancelled the sale.
[Listing Cancelled].
Professional shame crept up my neck. I, Rax, the Warehouse Manager, had just failed to read basic Demand.
Suddenly, a new listing appeared. The color was different. A thin red border.
[Listing #012]
Item: [Survivor's Backpack (Blue)]
Description: Backpack containing: 2 Breads, 1 Water Bottle, Varsity Jacket (Damaged), ID Card name Ricky.
Seller: NightWatcher
Price: 100 System Credits
Note: Previous owner doesn't need it anymore.
My heart stopped for a second.
That bag... the description of contents...
That was the bag belonging to the young man shot by the arrow earlier. One of Leon's team members.
And the seller... NightWatcher.
The Archer on the roof.
He didn't just shoot to drive away competition. He shot for Looting, and now he was selling the stolen goods back to the local market. Right in front of my eyes.
But my eyes fixed on the price.
100 System Credits.
He didn't ask for barter. He asked for Currency.
"So the credit exchange feature is active for some people," I hissed.
I knew this currency existed—the tutorial mentioned it briefly—but I hadn't found the conversion menu yet. This bastard was one step ahead in system navigation.
I had to buy this bag.
Not to help Leon. But to track this bastard. Items bought via Auction House sometimes leave a Mana trail. Or at least, I could analyze the arrow that might be inside the bag to determine his Build type.
I checked my balance.
[Credit: 0]
"Dammit," I hissed.
I panicked. I tried to sell my [Epic Core] to the System (Quick Sell) for instant credit.
[Sell Item: Beast Core (Iron) - Epic?]
[System Offer: 500 Credits]
Five hundred. That was robbery pricing. In the future, this Epic item might be worth millions.
But I needed that bag now. That information was more valuable than a stuck investment.
"Deal," I said quickly, my finger pressing the sell button with a tremble.
I sold my future for intelligence now.
[Sold: Beast Core (Iron) -> +500 Credits]
Balance filled.
I went back to listing #012.
I pressed the [BUY NOW] button.
[Error: Listing No Longer Available]
[Item has been Sold to User: MerchantOfVenice]
My hand froze in mid-air.
Too late.
A difference of two seconds.
Someone named MerchantOfVenice bought it faster than me.
I checked the public transaction history. This user... MerchantOfVenice.
His name appeared in three previous Sold transactions. He wasn't a ghost. He was a market Bot. Or a human whose fingers were faster than a bot.
I lost on speed.
I sacrificed my Epic asset, turned it into cheap cash, and my target was snatched by someone else.
Now I sat with 500 Credits, no Epic Core, and no information on the Archer.
I had just done Panic Selling and failed at Panic Buying.
A combo of amateur investor stupidity.
"Bastard," I cursed loudly, hitting my own thigh.
Miri woke up startled, hissing at my anger.
Hank, the guard, approached with a worried face.
"Mr. Rax? Is there a problem? You look pale."
I stared at Hank.
My gaze might have been too sharp, because he took a step back, his hand reflexively gripping his [Bone Spike].
"Nothing," I said coldly, closing the Auction House screen roughly. "Just a market correction."
I looked around the plaza.
People were starting to sleep, or pretend to sleep.
Leon—the real one—was sitting in a dark corner. He wasn't crying hysterically. He was just staring at his own empty palms, then feeling his chest pocket as if looking for an ID Card that wasn't there. A small gesture of pathetic loss.
He knew his friend was dead. He didn't know his friend's belongings were just traded online and bought by a stranger in two seconds.
I realized my position.
In the physical world (Offline), I was king in this Safe Zone. People feared me.
But in the digital world (Online Auction), I had just been played.
There was NightWatcher (the Killer) and MerchantOfVenice (the Speed Buyer).
Two other high-level players within a 5km radius.
The Archer had positional advantage and ruthlessness.
The Merchant had speed and liquidity advantage.
And me?
I had a warehouse full of weapons that wouldn't sell because people needed water more.
And I had 500 Credits from selling my best asset.
I opened my status panel again.
[Credits: 500]
This money couldn't sit idle. Idle money suffers opportunity inflation.
I had to change strategy.
I couldn't be a "Luxury Weapon Boutique." The market wasn't ready.
I had to be a "Monopoly General Store."
I opened the Auction House again.
I looked for trash listings.
Listing #045: [Box of Matches] - Price: 1 Bread.
Listing #088: [Jerry Can (Diesel 5L)] - Price: 2 Water Bottles.
Listing #092: [Magnesium Fire Starter] - Price: 50 Credits.
These people were trading Strategic Resources (Fire, Fuel) for Consumption Resources (Bread/Water).
Long-term exchanged for short-term. They sold survival tools for one night of comfort.
I grinned. A smile that didn't reach my eyes.
I had 500 Credits.
I was going to buy up all the fuel, fire starters, and basic materials being sold cheap by these desperate people.
I was going to monopolize Energy.
When the night got colder, or when they needed to cook monsters to avoid starving... they would come to me.
And at that time, the price of a matchbox would no longer be a piece of bread.
The price would be loyalty.
"Hank," I called.
"Yes, Sir?"
"Collect all the empty water bottles you can find in this mall's trash," I ordered. "And find a water tap that's still running, no matter how small. Toilet, janitor's closet, anywhere."
"What for? Tap water is dirty, Sir. It causes stomach aches."
"Not for drinking ourselves," I replied, starting to buy match listings one by one. "For selling on the internet."
I was going to be the next MerchantOfVenice. But crueler.
I just lost one round.
But the market never sleeps. And I wouldn't be sleeping tonight either.