The Collector handed the seeds he had found to Thanos. As they changed hands, his face was full of reluctance, and he clutched the cloth bag as though unwilling to let go.
But under Deathstroke's teasing gaze, he finally shut his eyes, gritted his teeth, and released it.
Thanos received a small pouch of seeds. Compared to the huge sack he had carried in, this little bag was not even as large as his thumb.
Yet he did not bother checking what kind of seeds were inside. He casually stuffed it into the pocket of the farmer's vest he was wearing. After all, he farmed only to cultivate his temperament, fool around a little, and pass the time after retirement. It was not as though he actually needed farming to make a living.
Afterward, he did not leave immediately. Instead, he waited nearby for Deathstroke to finish his business. He was somewhat interested in what the Sorcerer Supreme had said earlier.
"Ah... what can I do for you, Sorcerer Supreme?"
Tivan's tone was still somewhat pained, and his smile looked worse than crying. In all his years of business, he had never made such a losing deal.
Everyone in the universe knew that the Collector's business only took things in and never gave them out. He could trade precious treasures for all manner of universal currencies, but he would never take out precious treasures to exchange for anything else.
Today was an exception, but there was no helping it. Trading a small bag of seeds for his own life was clearly a profit. Thanos was a ruthless man, completely unlike those honest customers who feared the reputation of the Elders Of The Universe Council.
Now, he could only hope Deathstroke would not make any excessive demands.
"Don't be so serious,