Edward Black had built an empire from nothing. Started as a farmer's son in Country G, worked his way through every imaginable hardship, and climbed to the position of the wealthiest man in his country. Fifty years of relentless drive and sacrifice.
And now he was dying.
The doctors had given him a week, maybe two at most. His body was simply giving up, systems shutting down one by one. All the money in the world couldn't buy what he needed the most: time.
He shifted in his hospital bed, trying to find a position that didn't hurt. The movement was small, but even that took effort. His family sat around the room, his children and grandchildren, most of them doing a poor job of hiding their eagerness for him to finally hurry up and die so they could start fighting over the inheritance.
Only a few of them looked genuinely sad. His youngest granddaughter, maybe. His second son, possibly, though that might have just been indigestion.
As he adjusted his pillow, something caught his eye. A bronze ring sat on his bedside table, right next to his water glass.
It hadn't been there a moment ago. He was sure of it.
Edward's body might be failing, but his mind was still sharp.
Sharp enough to know that objects didn't just materialize out of thin air.
Sharp enough to feel the strange compulsion radiating from that ring, a pulling sensation that seemed to bypass his rational mind and speak directly to something deeper.
His hand reached out almost on its own. The moment his fingers touched the bronze surface, it vanished.
Then a voice spoke inside his head.
Edward Black. What are you willing to pay to live?
Years of ruthless business negotiations had taught Edward to keep his composure in any situation. But this? This was something else entirely.
"Who are you?" he thought, not even sure if thinking at a disembodied voice would work. "Am I dying? Is this the end?"
You are dying. In three days, your body will fail completely. But I am not death. I am a merchant. And I have something you want.
"I'm listening."
Ten years. I can give you a decade of life, genuine time, not hooked to machines or trapped in a dying body. Ten years of freedom from death. But the moment the clock strikes 10 years, you will die.
Edward's heart, weak as it was, managed to skip a beat. With death at his door, he was even willing to bargain for each extra day, let alone a decade of life. "What's the price?"
One hundred million. Your currency.
He almost laughed. Almost. One hundred million for ten years of life? He spent more than that on art he never looked at.
"You're either a charlatan or a miracle worker," Edward said. "Either way, I accept. Transfer details?"
Already completed.
And just like that, Edward felt it. Not a physical sensation exactly, but a fundamental shift. Like a door that had been slamming shut was suddenly propped open again. He wasn't healed, his body was still old, but that sense of imminent death had vanished.
Three days had become ten years.
He lay back against his pillows, mind racing with possibilities, while his family continued their vigil, completely unaware that anything had changed.
TRANSACTION COMPLETE
HOST HAS SOLD: 10 YEARS LIFESPAN
RECEIVED: 100,000,000 COUNTRY G CURRENCY
SYSTEM POINTS EARNED: 112
MERCHANT LEVEL: 0 → 1
NEW FEATURES UNLOCKED
I jerked awake to my phone buzzing insistently against my chest. The screen showed a notification from my banking app.
DEPOSIT: 100,000,000.00
I stared at the number. Then I stared some more. Then I counted the zeros, because surely I was reading it wrong.
"That's... that's almost a hundred million," I whispered. My voice came out hoarse. "Holy hell. It actually worked."
Then reality crashed in. "Wait. The government. Tax agencies. Anti-money laundering laws. I'm going to end up in prison for this, aren't I? How am I supposed to explain where this came from?"
All system transactions are automatically regularized and documented through established legal channels. Host's financial records will show proper sourcing and taxation. No government or financial institution will ever find fault with system-facilitated trades.
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "You could have mentioned that feature earlier."
The system, as expected, didn't respond to my sarcasm.
I pulled up my status screen, which now looked significantly different.
Name: Alex Sinclair
Age: 20
Lifespan Remaining: 64 years
Merchant Level: 1
Progress to Level 2: 12/500 points
Current Points: 12
Available Features: One Random Low-Level World Access, Client Registry, Transaction History
"One Random Low Level World Access," I read aloud, feeling my pulse quicken. "System, does this mean what I think it means?"
Host may now access One Random Low Level World and form trading channels. Initial access limited to basic goods. Additional worlds and advanced features unlock with increased merchant level.
I flopped back onto my bed, staring up at the depressed turtle stain on my ceiling.
Just yesterday, I'd been a broke delivery driver living on ramen and regret. Now I had nearly a hundred million in my bank account, access to trading with another world, and I was apparently in the business of buying and selling time itself.
"This is either the best decision I've ever made," I said to the empty room, "or the worst. No middle ground."
My phone buzzed again. Another message from the bank, this time asking if I wanted to speak with a private wealth manager.
I started laughing. Couldn't help it. The absurdity of the situation just hit me all at once.
Twenty-four hours ago, I'd been worried about making rent.
Now I had to figure out how to trade with other dimensions.
"System," I said, still grinning like an idiot, "show me what I can access with these points. Let's see what kind of business a multidimensional merchant actually does."
Displaying available options...
The panel expanded, filling my vision with possibilities.
My new life was about to get very, very interesting.