Who Says Glass Marbles Can Buy a House?

Notting City, noon. Sunlight spilled across the streets paved with bluestone.

Suddenly, the bustling crowd parted, retreating to either side of the street.

Everyone's eyes widened, as if they had seen something beyond comprehension.

"Bzzzt—"

Accompanied by the faintest of electric motor hums, yet one that sounded distinctly high-tech, a Little Lamb raced through the busy downtown at 25 kilometers per hour.

Its rider was a six-year-old boy.

He wore a pair of Tactical Sunglasses that were obviously much too big for him, and carried a silver metal box on his back. His expression was icy.

His steed was a children's electric scooter fitted with training wheels.

Its body was a tender pink, and a giant picture of Peppa Pig was printed on the front.

To make it suitable for Notting City's cobblestone streets, Earth's engineers had worked through the night to equip the scooter with off-road tires and top-of-the-line off-road suspension. They had even installed high-lumen tactical headlights.

"001, watch your speed. Reckless driving leaves your loved ones in tears!"

The worried voice of an observer at the command center came through his earpiece.

Su Yun rode straight through a puddle, his face expressionless, and replied calmly in his childish voice:

"Don't worry. I'm a veteran driver—"

Ten minutes later.

Inside the largest general store in Notting City.

Su Yun parked outside, then strode confidently inside.

At that very moment, in the command hall on the other side of Earth.

The front row was occupied by more than a dozen of the country's leading economists and historians.

They stared intently at the Large Screen, their notebooks already open as they prepared to record humanity's first-ever cross-dimensional primitive capital accumulation.

"According to Plan A,"

an elderly professor with white hair pushed up his glasses, his voice trembling.

"Based on the shared experience of two hundred transmigration novels, glassmaking in ancient worlds is extremely primitive. Glass is white gold! It's hard currency!"

"Exactly!"

Another expert chimed in:

"The bag of glass marbles from the Yiwu wholesale market that Su Yun brought over should, in theory, be enough to buy half of Notting City! This is going to be a textbook case of a technological mismatch!"

On the screen, Su Yun was already standing at the counter.

He pulled a handful of colorful glass marbles from his pocket and slapped them onto the table with a clatter.

"Boss, I've got a big deal for you."

Su Yun's voice was childish, but carried an air of menace:

"These are top-quality Western Region glass beads, exceedingly rare. Will they buy everything in this shop?"

The general store owner was wiping the counter with a rag. At Su Yun's words, he raised his eyes and glanced at the marbles.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

The owner suddenly gave him a look as if he were an idiot, then used the rag to push the marbles back toward Su Yun in disgust.

"Get out of here! Where'd you come from, you little brat? Don't cause trouble with this batch of burnt junk!"

"Junk?"

Su Yun raised an eyebrow:

"Take a good look. These are glass beads."

"Glass beads, my foot!"

The owner casually pulled a cup from beneath the counter and plunked it onto the table.

"See this? It's the latest water cup from Li's Kiln, made just last week. Two Copper Soul Coins each. Look at how clear it is, then look at your marbles—they're full of bubbles and cloudy streaks! And they aren't even round! These must be rejects from some apprentice's failed practice run, right?"

Su Yun lowered his head and looked.

The glass cup the owner had brought out was crystal clear. Its cut was flawless, and it refracted rainbow-colored light in the sun. Its craftsmanship...

was so superior that it put the cheap, mass-produced-looking marbles in his hand to shame.

"..."

Earth, command hall.

"Pfft—!"

The elderly professor who had just declared that glass was white gold spat a mouthful of strong tea straight onto the screen.

He didn't even bother wiping it away. He stared at the crystal-clear cup from the other world, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.

"This can't be... This isn't scientific!"

The old professor sprang to his feet and pointed at the data display with trembling hands. His voice cracked with sheer shock:

"That's the refractive index of lead glass! On Earth, achieving this level of clarity and these facets requires a precision annealing process and an industrial furnace held at a constant 1,400 degrees! How could a society still in the feudal agrarian era manage it? Are the laws of thermodynamics just for show over there?!"

"No! The model is wrong! The fundamental parameters are all wrong!"

Another expert, who specialized in ancient economic history, flipped frantically through the data Su Yun had sent back, shouting with sweat pouring down his face:

"We fell into the trap of empiricism! We used Earth's technology tree to measure their Martial Soul tree! Soul Power! It's Soul Power!"

He slammed an analysis report onto the table:

"A fire-attribute Soul Master can produce temperatures of 2,000 degrees with their bare hands, while a Soul Master with an eye-related skill can polish things to micrometer precision! How is this backward handicraft? It's extraordinary craftsmanship where everyone comes with a high-precision machine tool built in!"

The entire panel of experts groaned in despair, their faith shattered.

"It's over... The industrial-goods dumping model has completely collapsed."

"Glass, soap, mirrors... All these high-margin goods that rely on a technological advantage aren't scarce at all in a world where everyone has a Martial Soul!"

Lei Zhan stood in the back row, watching the group of strategists who had been confidently planning everything just moments ago now trapped in a logic loop over a single glass cup. He helplessly rubbed his temples.

Lei Zhan sighed and beckoned to the assistant behind him.

"This is why you can't trust books completely. When a scholar meets a soldier, there's no reasoning with him."

"Sir, Plan A is completely paralyzed."

The assistant looked at the financial magnates and trade experts slumped in their chairs all around the room, some of them needing oxygen. His voice was dry:

"Su Yun is still waiting over there. Without money, he won't get far in that world."

Lei Zhan fell silent.

He looked at these top strategists, men who normally spoke with authority on matters of state, now utterly defeated by the challenge of earning Su Yun's first pot of gold in another world. Their faces were pale, their eyes bloodshot.

After a long while, Lei Zhan let out a deep sigh. The sharpness in his eyes faded, replaced by a more profound understanding.

"Take the experts away to rest, and arrange the best medical team for them. They did their best. The mistake was in our strategy."

"The strategy?" The assistant was taken aback.

"We were too arrogant."

Lei Zhan slowly walked to the enormous electronic map and lightly brushed his finger over its countless points of light:

"We always thought Su Yun needed the sharpest minds to support him—the theories from the ivory tower. But we forgot that the experts specialize in macro-level planning. They know how to turn one into a hundred, how to put the finishing touches on success."

Lei Zhan turned around sharply, his eyes blazing:

"But Su Yun has nothing right now. What he needs is the hardest part—the breakthrough from zero to one."

"The people who can do that aren't usually the elites sitting in offices. They're the ordinary people who have struggled through the streets and alleys, fighting their way through the grime of everyday life."

Lei Zhan's voice gradually rose, echoing through the command hall:

"Su Yun should never have had just a few dozen experts behind him. He has the whole country! Every one of our 1.4 billion people has a unique talent that no one else can replace!"

"Academicians and street vendors alike—all of them are national treasures when they stand behind Su Yun!"

The assistant felt a surge of fervor rush to his head and straightened his back. "I understand, sir! So what do we do now..."

"Activate Plan B!"

Lei Zhan's gaze sharpened. He swept his hand through the air, his presence commanding:

"If large-scale trading in hard currency won't work, then we'll do something more down-to-earth! The service industry! The experience economy!"

"Go! Contact the relevant departments!"

"Bring in that guy who's always teaching people how to open a shop in short videos, showing them how to start with a street stall... That down-to-earth fellow with a wealth of hands-on experience. Brother Yong!"

Lei Zhan paused, his tone growing solemn:

"Tell him not to be nervous, and not to think of himself as insignificant. Today, the country needs to borrow his street smarts to win this battle!"

Three minutes later.

The doors to the command center's conference room swung open.

A middle-aged man in a white T-shirt was escorted inside by two fully armed black-clad security officers. He was trembling all over.

He was Brother Yong, a food-service mentor with tens of millions of followers across the internet.

But at that moment, this patriarch, who usually held court in livestreams and angrily tore into business owners, was facing the darkest moment of his life.

Brother Yong looked at the stern bigwigs filling the room, then at the complicated maps and flashing red lights on the wall. His legs started wobbling wildly, his knees knocking together. He felt like bolting.

He clutched his trademark thermos tightly, trying to hide his trembling hands, but the lid still rattled against the bottle with a clack-clack.

It was over.

It was all over.

Brother Yong wailed in despair to himself.

Wasn't he just bragging a little during his livestreams?

He hadn't done anything harmful!

Why had the security detail been brought in?

Were they going to take him out?

"Leaders... esteemed leaders..."

Brother Yong's voice was choked with tears. He immediately bowed at a ninety-degree angle.

"I'll confess! I'll tell you everything! Please, go easy on me!"

Lei Zhan had been about to give the mission briefing. He froze at those words, then broke into a "kind" smile.

He walked over, lifted Brother Yong into a chair as if he were picking up a chicken, and even kindly unscrewed his thermos for him.

"You're Brother Yong, right? Don't be nervous. We didn't bring you here to punish you or throw you in jail."

"Huh?"

Brother Yong clutched his thermos, tears still hanging from the corners of his eyes.

"Y-you're not arresting me? Then... then what is this about?"

Lei Zhan pointed to the enormous screen taking up the entire wall in front of them.

On the screen, Su Yun was riding his pink electric scooter through the streets of another world, looking thoroughly disgruntled.

"The organization has recognized your talent for choosing locations in the food business and serving the lower-end market..."

Lei Zhan planted both hands on the table and stared into Brother Yong's eyes.

"There's a special mission. We want you to advise our agent in a medieval-style alternate world and help him get a street stall up and running. We need to make money in that world."