Meanwhile.

  The adventurer group "Iron Wolf" was already walking several meters ahead. Lyra followed behind, lost in thought.

  Occasionally, she glanced back over her shoulder.

  Kael noticed she had stopped walking and turned around. "What's the problem, Lyra?" he asked, following her gaze, but found nothing.

  Hearing the leader call her, Lyra snapped out of her daze. "It's nothing important."

  Garret raised an eyebrow, the bow shifting on his shoulder as he stepped to the side.

  "Hmm." He leaned slightly, trying to see what she had been looking at. "Don't tell me you're thinking about the stranger you met at the entrance earlier?"

  "What?"

  Kael narrowed his eyes. "The foreigner?" he said, trying to keep his tone casual. "You didn't even know him. Why did you pay his entry fee?"

  Before Lyra could answer, Garret broke into a crooked smile. "Oh, Kael, don't be stupid. It's obvious." He lightly slapped his arm, teasing him. "Love at first sight."

  Kael shot Garret a quick, ugly glance, almost imperceptible. Even though he didn't say anything explicitly, his shoulders grew more tense.

  Lyra breathed slowly, placing her hands on her hips. "If I were going to fall in love with someone at the city entrance, it definitely wouldn't be a stranger." She said it as if stating a trivial fact, not giving in to Garret's provocation.

  "I helped because he looked like he needed it. I know what it's like to be stopped for not having a piece of paper." She finished speaking and started walking again, not waiting for the others. "That's all."

  "Maybe he was just another refugee from the east. Lyra sympathized because she came from the east." Voren, who had been walking beside them in silence, spoke suddenly.

  "..." The group fell silent for a few seconds.

  Kael glanced at Voren, then at Lyra, and finally sighed, relenting. "A refugee?"

  Voren nodded and continued, his birch staff tapping rhythmically against the ground as he walked. "The Solis Empire isn't just burning villages. Anyone with even a trace of mana not registered with the Church of the Sun is considered a deviant. Nobles, academy mages, students... they're all fleeing into the desert to avoid being purified in the flames."

  Garret let out a low whistle, the mocking expression fading for a moment. "I heard their Inquisitors have methods that detect spells from miles away. If that guy at the entrance is a fugitive mage, Lyra, you might have put a target on our backs."

  "Don't exaggerate, Garret." Lyra cut in, keeping her eyes fixed on the road ahead, though her ears remained attentive.

  "Exaggerate?" Voren shot back, his voice deeper. "Luminaris is neutral, but for how long? If the Empire decides we're hiding 'heretics' or refugees, the desert will be the least of our problems. They're looking for spies and fugitives who could bring the war here."

  Silence fell over the group again, broken only by the noise of the city.

  Lyra said nothing more, but Voren's words echoed in her mind.

  Kael noticed her silence and relaxed his shoulders, though the concern had not left his eyes. "It doesn't matter. He got in anyway."

  "What I do know is that charity came out of the group's funds." Garret interjected, pointing at Lyra with a sideways smile. "Don't forget you owe us six silver."

  The group moved on, but Lyra cast one last discreet glance over her shoulder. Just one. Quick enough that no one noticed.

  As the group disappeared into the bright and busy streets, another kind of concern occupied someone else's mind in the distance.

  Mark walked through the streets, his eyes scanning the storefronts in search of a specific place. After entering the city, he had run into the same problem over and over again.

  "Money..." he cursed inwardly, his eyes darkening.

  The guard’s reaction at the entrance had exposed a critical flaw in his planning: the gold from Age of Blood was too pure, bordering on the supernatural, and without the seals of the current nations, it was nothing more than suspicious metal in the eyes of the locals.

  'I have treasures in my inventory that could buy a kingdom, yet I can't pay for a room...'

  Without silver or copper coins for common transactions, his fortune was as useful as sand.

  Mark needed immediate liquidity, and selling one of his belongings was the only way to avoid spending his first night in some random alley.

  Finding a discreet spot, he opened his inventory. His eyes passed over gleaming items and weapons. Mark couldn't sell his high-level items because they were his insurance in this world, so only the low-level items remained.

  He selected one of the most insignificant pieces he had.

  [ Shadowbone Dagger ].

  This was a Level 40 item, disposable to Mark, used only as recycling material. Its level was the lowest in his inventory, and selling it would not affect his resources at all.

  However, when he took it out of the inventory, the dagger pulsed with a dark aura, surprising him. Its blade was made of polished black bone, serrated like the teeth of an animal, and the handle was wrapped in leather.

  Curious about its appearance, Mark tried to check its basic information.

  Passive Effect: [Eternal Bleed] – Wounds caused by this blade do not close naturally.

  Active Effect: [Presence Distortion] – Grants the wielder 15% passive camouflage.

  'Not bad...'

  This should be enough to pay for an inn and a decent breakfast.

  Without wasting time, Mark hid the weapon beneath his cloak, avoiding drawing more attention, and returned to the main street. He stopped a few passersby, asking for information on where he could find a place to sell items.

  Following the directions, Mark found a discreet storefront bearing the symbol of a scale and a magnifying glass: Theron's Pawn and Exchange.

  As he pushed the heavy door, Mark felt the weight of the wood beneath his hand. The bell above chimed, a clear sound that cut through the muffled silence inside.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  The place was nothing like the virtual item shops he saw in the game.

  Theron's Shop was real.

  The polished stone floor reflected the soft light of mana crystals embedded in the ceiling, and the scent of expensive wood mixed with a faint trace of incense filled the air. Along the walls, thick glass display cases exhibited weapons and accessories that gleamed under focused light, each piece resting on dark velvet.

  Everything there screamed exclusivity.

  It was the kind of place where an ordinary adventurer would hesitate before entering, afraid of dirtying the carpet with desert sand.

  But not Mark.

  His eyes analyzed the environment.

  It seemed empty.

  Behind the counter stood only a humanoid figure with pointed ears covered in grayish fur and yellow feline eyes. He wore a monocle and examined a silver ring.

  "Welcome to Theron's shop." Hearing the bell, he said without looking up, his voice hoarse and rough. "We buy what you don't want, and sell what you can't have. What is your business, stranger?"

  "..."

  Was that the shop's motto?

  Mark did not answer. He simply walked up to the counter and, with a dull thud that made the old wood creak, placed the Shadowbone Dagger on the surface.

  "I want to sell this." he said, bluntly.

  The Gnoll let out a sigh of dissatisfaction at the sudden disturbance, setting the ring aside to give his attention to this impatient customer.

  "Just a moment." He adjusted his lens and leaned over the weapon with indifference.

  "You want to sell a dagger..." the Gnoll murmured, analyzing the item.

  "Wait—" He suddenly choked, the air leaving his lungs as if he had been punched in the stomach. His yellow eyes dilated until they nearly filled his irises as he looked from the dagger to Mark, and from Mark to the dagger.

  "Where... where did you get this, sir?" he asked, his voice trembling. "This... the material is high-level, and it's enchanted with superior-rank magic!"

  Mark frowned.

  High-level?

  A Level 40 weapon was considered high-level?

  "I want to sell this. Are you buying it or not?"

  The shopkeeper quickly shut his mouth, his ears lowering. "I... I cannot. My apologies, sir! I do not have the authority to appraise an Epic Grade item! Please wait here. I need to call the manager... the master of the house!"

  Before Mark could protest, the creature disappeared through a door in the back.

  Mark stood still, confused.

  Epic Grade...

  He was certain that dagger had only been a low-tier, average item in the original game. It really was Epic Grade, but the man's reaction did not match what he had expected.

  Could he have taken the wrong item?

  Mark checked his inventory again.

  ...

  ......

  .........

  No.

  It was definitely the "trash."

  After waiting for a few minutes, the Gnoll returned. He walked with his body slightly bowed in a respectful posture, followed by an elderly human. The old man had a gentle expression, wearing fine silk clothes and a perfectly trimmed white beard.

  His eyes, however, were sharp like a hawk's.

  "Greetings, traveler." the old man said, giving a formal bow. "I am Theron. My assistant said you brought something... exceptional. What is your name?"

  Mark observed the man.

  'So he's Theron...' In the game, a shop name was just floating text, but here, the owner himself coming out to receive him personally was a clear sign.

  He had aimed for the "trash" in his inventory, but apparently, he had still aimed far too high by Luminaris standards.

  "Vaelin." Mark replied simply, keeping his voice monotone to hide his slight discomfort. "I want to sell this weapon."

  "Then you must be Mister Vaelin! It is a pleasure to meet you." Theron approached the dagger, but did not touch it. He merely hovered his hand above the blade, sensing its mana. Then he let out a low, almost disbelieving laugh.

  "Sir, this blade carries a thirst for blood and enchantments I have only seen in stories..." Theron looked away from the dagger and looked at Mark, thinking.

  It was the first time he had received a client like this.

  Not that Epic weapons did not exist in the world. It was simply that people did not dare sell them so easily.

  "Mister Vaelin, I can offer you 100 platinum coins right now for this weapon. It is enough to buy this entire street, if you so wish. What do you say? Other pawn houses may not offer a better price than mine."

  Theron stroked the blade of the dagger as he spoke. His price was already above market value.

  A man who treated a treasure as if it were scrap metal was someone he could not afford to offend, much less deceive.

  Mark looked at the old man, his eyebrows slightly raised. "Platinum? Not gold?"

  The question sounded so genuinely lost that Theron paused for a second, blinking in surprise. He then let out a short but respectful laugh, assuming Mark was merely testing his honesty.

  "Ah, I see. You prefer the count in gold? It would be an impractical pile to carry, Mister Vaelin." the old man explained, gesturing with his hands.

  "In this kingdom, and in most civilized territories, we follow the standard decimal ratio. 100 copper coins equal 1 silver. 100 silver equal 1 gold. And 100 gold coins equal 1 platinum. What I am offering you is 100 platinum. In gold, that would be 10,000 pieces."

  "..." Mark.

  10,000?

  Mark processed the information quickly.

  This world's system was different from the game, where gold was the universal currency, so the concept of platinum was unfamiliar to him.

  But 10,000 gold coins for a Level 40 item... the inflation of power and value in this world was even more drastic than he had imagined. That price for a bone dagger he had obtained from opening chests in the game was somewhat absurd.

  Mark was genuinely tempted to pull everything useless from his inventory and sell it to the old man to see how much he could get for it.

  Of course, it was only a thought.

  Selling something like this once could be considered luck, but if he started pulling out several weapons just as good or better, it would become problematic and attract too much unwanted attention.

  "I understand. Platinum will do." Mark replied, his cold voice hiding his inner thoughts. "Give me the money."

  Receiving confirmation, Theron nodded to the Gnoll. The creature quickly ran to the back of the shop, where the sound of heavy iron locks opening and the crystalline clinking of metal could be heard.

  Minutes later, he returned carrying five reinforced silk pouches.

  Mark received one of the pouches, feeling its weight before loosening the cord of one to check.

  The platinum coins were nothing like the gold he had accumulated for years. They were made of a bluish-white metal, almost cold to the touch, with a polish that seemed to emit its own glow.

  Unlike the crude silver coins, these had perfectly serrated edges and the face of a majestic figure engraved in relief at the center. When the light from the shop's mana crystals struck their surface, the metal created a prismatic reflection, as if diamond dust had been fused into the alloy.

  It looked even more eye-catching than his Ziggurat gold.

  With a smooth motion, Mark pushed both pouches into his cloak. But in truth, he sent them directly into his inventory, causing the Gnoll to let out a startled yelp at the speed of the "sleight of hand."

  With his business concluded, Mark simply waved to them in farewell and prepared to leave the place.

  He had already obtained the money and did not intend to sell anything else for now.

  "Mister Vaelin, wait!" As his hand was about to reach the door handle, the old man's voice stopped him.

  Mark stopped. He turned his head slightly to look at the man over his shoulder, his expression empty.

  "?"

  The old man extended a card made of a white material with a creamy texture, engraved with silver runes that pulsed faintly.

  "Luminaris is a city of opportunity, but also of many vultures. Someone who carries items of that caliber... well, you may need influential friends. I would be happy to be one of them." The old man smiled from ear to ear, his eyes forming two crescent moons.

  'Oh...'

  Mark stared at the card for a second before extending his hand.

  He recognized that kind of approach.

  Theron was not merely being kind; he had smelled a potential supplier and was trying to mark his territory before Vaelin brought his next "treasures" to the competition.

  For Mark, however, the offer was convenient.

  He was a foreigner without documents and without any understanding of that city's politics. Having a member of the commercial elite interested in him was a layer of protection he had not expected to obtain so quickly.

  Mark took the card with a calm expression.

  Written on the smooth surface was the name 'Theron, The Appraiser - Honorary Member of the Chamber of Commerce.'

  'Chamber of Commerce...' Mark noted the name mentally.

  "If you need to sell more weapons, or if you need something that ordinary gold cannot buy, come see me. I guarantee the best prices and, more importantly... total discretion." Theron winked at him with one eye, smiling.

  Mark stored the card with an indifferent nod. "I'll remember that."

  Without another word, he turned on his heel and left the shop, the bell chiming softly behind his silhouette.

  Tinkle!

  "..."

  Theron watched through the dark glass as Mark disappeared into Luminaris' nighttime crowd.

  His eyes tried to track the worn cloak among the people, but it was as if his presence had been erased from existence the moment he stepped outside.

  The Gnoll approached from behind, his ears still lowered.

  "Master... that man... his scent..." he murmured, sniffing the air. "It was not the scent of... a human."

  "I know, Skrit. I know." Theron replied softly, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.

  "He brought a weapon that powerful, yet did not even know the value of platinum... a fascinating figure." He continued staring at the empty street, an intrigued smile playing on his lips.

  "..."

  Outside, Mark felt the weight of the coins in his inventory.

  A heavy pocket was never a bad thing.

  "Pippin." Mark whispered beneath his cloak as he walked, calling the figure that had been accompanying him this entire time in hiding.

  "Let's see what the 'luxury' of this city has to offer."

  His new destination...

  The most noble district of the city.