The Essence of Trade Is Selling What the Other Party Needs

"Mr. Broly, you are an esteemed guest of our Laika Exchange, but forgive my bluntness—we cannot accept the technology you wish to sell."

Manager Zoke of the Laika Exchange sat across from Broly. After hearing what the boy wanted to trade, he rejected him outright.

"Manager Zoke, are you worried that the Planet-ship Conversion Technology I intend to exchange is fake?"

Broly asked with a frown.

"Not at all. You are, after all, a guest who has privately traded hundreds of millions' worth of goods with our Exchange. Naturally, Laika Exchange believes in your capabilities. It is simply that the technology you wish to trade is of little use to our Exchange."

"Hm?"

"Planet-ship Conversion Technology sounds impressive, but Laika Star is an immigrant planet. Everyone on this planet has lost their homeworld. Rather than turn the planet into a spaceship and roam the Universe, we would rather remain peacefully in the Laika Star System, in our home, basking in the light of this stellar system's sun instead of constantly drifting and struggling through space.

"Furthermore, forgive my bluntness, but those willing to buy this kind of Planet-ship Conversion Technology are either people whose home planet's stellar system has run into trouble—for example, if their sun is about to die and they need to flee with their planet—or Galactic Tycoons rich enough to buy a life-bearing planet and turn it into a spaceship for fun.

"Other than that, I fear no normal interstellar civilization would willingly become a wandering civilization.

"Of course, Interstellar Bandit Groups fleeing the Galactic Patrol are an exception..."

After saying that, Manager Zoke gave the boy before him a meaningful look.

Broly understood exactly what that look meant.

He hurriedly explained, "I'm not part of an Interstellar Bandit Group!"

"Mr. Broly, I never said you were~"