Deckard squinted as he materialized back at the tree overlooking the cliffs. The warm sun bathed his skin, drawing a contented sigh. “That’s more like it,” he murmured. He knew he’d better savor the sunlight now because, after earning the title [Lone Wolf], countless future days and evenings awaited him in the dank shadows of moldy dungeons.

  “It is what it is,” Deckard said, shrugging off the thought. He’d do whatever it took to pay the bills.

  After running the Molting Grotto solo, Deckard’s inventory brimmed with loot—enough to fill the bags of a full four-player party, all crammed into his solitary stash. He had to do something with it.

  It was time for another round of trading. It was a much faster way to get cards than grinding and hoping for them to drop. He’d done his homework, compiling a list of all the crab-related skill cards available in the area. His goal was clear for now: completing his crab skill card collection.

  Descending the cliff path to the beach, he passed the usual throngs of players hunting crabs. The sight no longer impressed him; after clearing the dungeon with its crab elites and boss entirely on his own, he knew he could handle them too, at least in the controlled environment of a dungeon. The open beach, with its roaming parties and unpredictable skirmishes, was another matter.

  The giant boulder on the beach loomed into view. The trading hub was alive with the usual chatter of players: boisterous haggling, casual banter, and the occasional sharp yell. Much of the boulder’s flat surface seemed to hold wares, from hastily unrolled cloths to crates turned into makeshift display tables.

  Deckard picked a spot with a scenic view of the sea, doubling as a vantage point to observe naval skirmishes and the occasional appearance of the turtle wild boss. With his position secured, Deckard began arranging his wares: equipment, shells, meat, and cards. He laid everything out with care, organizing the items into neat rows. Equipment on one side, shells and meat in the middle, and a smaller section set aside for the cards he was willing to trade. Stepping back, he gave his setup a critical once-over. It looked professional enough to draw interest.

  “Trading gear, shells, and crab meat for cards! Come check it out!” Deckard called, pitching his wares. He considered listing the exact cards he sought, but that felt too cumbersome to shout—and a hassle to repeat.

  At first, only a few players glanced his way. He was just one vendor among many clustered around the boulder, all vying for attention.

  “Is that a [Coral Crusher]?” a player asked, pointing at the mace.

  Deckard gave a small nod. “It is.”

  Before he could elaborate, another player jumped in. “How much for it?”

  “I saw it first!” the first player snapped, spinning to glare at the newcomer.

  “No, you didn’t!”

  The argument escalated quickly, drawing the attention of nearby players. It was good publicity! In no time, a small crowd began to gather, all eyes locking on the [Coral Crusher]. Deckard kept his posture relaxed though his gaze flicked to the mace. He wasn’t worried about outright theft—items couldn’t be stolen without consent—but the way one overeager player leaned closer made him wary. Casually, he slid the [Coral Crusher] a few inches closer to his side.

  “Hands off,” he said evenly, his tone sharp enough to make the player step back with a sheepish grin.

  He hadn’t expected the mace to cause such a stir. Now that he thought about it, it was the first uncommon piece of equipment he’d seen drop, and it was a boss item at that. The stun bonus alone made it a prize for warriors, especially in PvP scenarios. No wonder it was drawing so much attention.

  He raised a hand, his tone firm but calm. “No need to fight. Let’s do business, fellas. I’m looking for cards. Do you have any skill cards to trade?”

  The bickering players fell silent, exchanging uneasy glances.

  “I don’t have any cards,” the first player admitted reluctantly, “but I’ll pay seventy silver for the [Coral Crusher].”

  Deckard’s eyebrow twitched upward. Seventy silver? That was a hefty sum for a single item. Still, he shook his head. “Sorry, I’m only interested in cards.”

  “I have one,” the second player offered, pulling a card from their inventory. Deckard inspected it—it was a skill card he didn’t own yet.

  Crab Cheer ??

  Rarity: Common

  Type: Skill

  Affinity: ??

  Cost: 2

  Effect: +1 to all crabs this turn

  “So?” the player asked, hopeful.

  “Are you saying that trash can compare to my offer of 70 silver?” the first player interrupted, crossing his arms. “What can you even do with that skill? It’s worth five silver, at best.”

  The second player scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Your offer is way too high anyway. Seventy silver for such a low-level mace is too much. That stun bonus isn’t worth that much unless you’re desperate. Besides, the man wants cards. Weren’t you hearing him?”

  Deckard raised a brow at the blatant attempt to downplay the [Coral Crusher]. “Funny,” he said dryly. “That ‘low-level mace’ seems to have caught your attention too.”

  The second player huffed, avoiding his gaze.

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  Deckard scratched his head, weighing the offer. Skill cards could sometimes sell for just one silver, about the same price as a basic skill at the village trainer. On the other hand, the first player had just offered seventy times that. Trading the [Coral Crusher] for a single card, even one he didn’t own, felt like a bad deal.

  “Is that the only one you have?” Deckard asked.

  The player nodded.

  Deckard let out a soft sigh. “Sorry. It’s not enough.”

  “Wait,” the player said quickly, their voice tinged with desperation. “I’ll add fifty silvers—fifty silvers plus the card. How about that?”

  “I-I…”

  “Hi! I’ll give you eighty silvers!” a new voice chimed in, cutting him off.

  “Don’t listen to this joker! I’ll pay eighty-five!” someone else shouted.

  The commotion grew louder as more players approached, drawn by the argument and the mention of the [Coral Crusher].

  Deckard’s thoughts churned. No one is offering cards. Maybe it was naive of me to think I could trade all of these items for just cards. The [Coral Crusher] would be worth at least four or five skill cards. Who even carries that many? Only someone gearing up to play Terralore in the city, and even then, they’d probably be unwilling to part with them.

  Amidst the bidding frenzy, something caught his eye as Deckard reassessed his asking price. A pair of players lingered on the crowd's edge, too far away to join the bidding but close enough to watch. Something about them felt off. Deckard didn’t miss how their eyes flicked between him, his wares, and each other, accompanied by whispered exchanges.

  Bending down, Deckard adjusted the placement of his items, giving himself time to think. A prickle of unease crept up his spine. He’d seen this kind of behavior before—in school hallways, where bullies planned ambushes just out of sight of teachers.

  The [Coral Crusher] was valuable and had already drawn too much attention. If those players thought they could take it by force, they might try. Deckard wasn’t sure about the mechanics of PKing or how it worked with chances of dropping items. What he did know was that he couldn’t defend himself if it came to that.

  He hesitated, his gaze shifting to the [Coral Crusher]. Direct trades for cards had been his goal, but this wasn’t the place for it. The smarter move was to cash in while he could and buy the cards on his own terms later. It wasn’t ideal, but it was safe. The longer he held onto the mace, the bigger the target on his back grew.

  Straightening, Deckard kept his expression calm. “Alright,” he announced, loud enough to cut through the noise. “I’m changing things up. I’ll sell the [Coral Crusher] for cash. I also accept a combination of cash and cards. Highest bid wins.”

  The crowd erupted with renewed interest, bids flying fast and furious.

  “Ninety silver!”

  “Ninety-one silver!”

  “One gold!” a child’s voice rang out, silencing the rest.

  Deckard turned toward the bidder and immediately recognized him—it was that rich kid he’d run Gull Rock with. Tristan, his name was... if memory served him right.

  My goodness. 1 gold?! He must have exchanged real money for it!

  “One gold and two silver,” a bidder called hesitantly, clearly wavering.

  “One gold and thirty silver!” Tristan declared triumphantly, puffing his chest. The rest of the crowd went silent.

  Deckard hesitated for a moment. Tristan was the kind of player who’d buy his way through the game, flaunting wealth like a shield—a kid who probably didn’t know the first thing about defending himself.

  Should I sell it to him?

  Glancing at the rest of the crowd, Deckard sighed. If he went back on his word now, refusing to sell the item, it would ruin his reputation at the trading hub. He couldn’t afford that. He needed this trade.

  Ultimately, it was Tristan’s responsibility to play it smart. What happened after the sale was out of Deckard’s hands.

  “Sold,” Deckard said finally, completing the transaction.

  Tristan approached, his grin wide as he plucked the [Coral Crusher] from Deckard’s wares.

  GoldenTristan has transferred you 1 gold and 30 silver.

  “Hey, didn’t we run a dungeon together once?” Tristan asked.

  Deckard nodded. “Gull Rock.”

  “Cool! Thanks for the trade. Gotta go try this baby out on some crabs. Hehe. See you!”

  “W-wait!” Deckard called after him.

  Tristan paused, tilting his head. “What?”

  Deckard cast a glance toward the small group lingering at the edge of the crowd, their intentions all too clear. Then he glanced at the rest of the crowd, some still pointing at his other wares, others eyeing Tristan’s new acquisition with open envy. Leaning in, Deckard spoke in a quick whisper.

  “Be careful out there, kid. That’s pretty valuable. Log out for a couple of hours, and then make a run for it. Bad people might try to steal it from you.”

  Tristan laughed, stepping back with a dramatic flourish. “Let them try! I’ll bash their skulls in with this!” he declared, waving the [Coral Crusher] wildly in the air.

  Deckard slapped a hand to his face. I was whispering. Trying to be discreet. Why are you shouting like that?

  Tristan, clearly unfazed, swung the mace over his shoulder and strolled away, radiating smug confidence. Deckard watched as the group he’d been wary of exchanged glances, then slipped away from the crowd to follow the boy. The faint scrape of a blade leaving its sheath reached Deckard’s ears, quickly swallowed by the chatter of nearby players.

  Deckard clenched his jaw. The kid wasn’t his responsibility. Still, a small part of him wondered if he should’ve done more. Maybe he shouldn’t even have sold the item to him. He shook the thought away. This wasn’t the kind of game where you could save everyone from themselves.

  The moment the [[Coral Crusher]] was sold, the commotion around Deckard’s stall eased slightly. At the same time, it was as if the other items he was selling finally became visible to the rest of the players.

  “Whoa! So much meat. Can I get a discount if I buy in bulk?”

  “I’m willing to trade my [Crab Cheer] card for your [Pincer Strike].”

  “I accept,” Deckard said, completing the trade.

  Deckard tried to surf the wave of interest from the players who’d been left with a bittersweet taste after losing the bidding war for the [[Coral Crusher]]. Being outbid seemed to spark a hunger for shopping in some. Others were clearly eager to save face, trying to prove their worth to anyone who had seen them outclassed by a rich, spoiled kid.

  Things were going well. He had already secured a new skill card. Then, a player approached, exuding confidence.

  “I’ll take this helmet and chest plate in exchange for this card,” the player announced, holding up a card like it was a trophy.

  Deckard raised an eyebrow, glancing at the gear the player was pointing at. It was the [Crustacean Helm] dropped by the boss and the [Bulwark Chestplate]. “What card could you possibly have that’s worth that much?”

  “See for yourself.” The player smirked and handed the card to Deckard.

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