[ The Good Times Don't Last ] I checked my account:
"I currently have a total of 58 silver and 50 copper, but most of it is held by Seraphina. I have 20 silver in cash."
"Alright! 20 silver it is, I only brought 20 silver."
[ The Shit Appraisal Master ] waved his hand,
"I'll also put up twenty silver coins; let's go big this time!"
"... No, I didn't say that all twenty taels of silver had to be invested..."
Too late!
[ Shit Appraisal Master ] was the first to enable the translation function:
"Boss, twenty spearheads, ten iron axes, and ten shovels. Cash on delivery, pack and go!"
"Okay~"
The blacksmith seemed to have noticed the difference of opinion between the two and made the deal on the spot, leaving no room for negotiation.
[ The Shit Appraisal Master ] then looked at [ Good Times Don't Last ], who seemed hesitant to speak:
"Trust me, brother, this time it'll definitely work! I've already asked the guide, and he only provides the tools to newbies once and won't sell them."
"Those who only think about the thrill of fighting will soon be using broken iron spearheads; it's definitely a win-win situation!"
"This... I..."
Just as [ Good Times Don't Last last long] was still hesitating, [ Shit Appraisal Master ] had already completed the payment:
"Hurry up, we're short twenty taels of silver."
He opened his small linen money bag, [ Good Times Don't Last ] and counted out twenty silver coins, handing them over to the half-dragon blacksmith.
He shook his now-empty purse backwards, and [ his Good Times Don't Last ] he felt like a typical penniless wretch wandering around a tavern in a Western fantasy world.
The transaction was completed, and just as the blacksmith was about to take the two men to pick up the goods, a series of hurried footsteps sounded.
"Oh, so you two were here!"
With a constitution of 7, [ Concrete Mixed with Spaghetti ] easily outpaced the two-person-pulled Resurrected Hoofed Beast in terms of speed, arriving only a short while later than the two.
He put his hands on their shoulders and took a few deep breaths.
"You're... a new player, right? What brings you here?"
"[ The Good Times Don't Last long,'" he asked in bewilderment.
"Boss Da Hui, that's [ Zhongde ], told me to tell you guys that you can buy some saw blades and saw strips on your way back. Everyone's building houses and they're in a hurry to use them. As long as the price isn't outrageous, we can negotiate."
[ The Shit Appraisal Master ] immediately smiled. It turned out to be someone from the construction site's purchasing department. He definitely had to build a good relationship with him!
It's not that we're going to take kickbacks in this other world, it's just that it'll be easier to get orders once we've built a better relationship with everyone.
Thinking of this, the [ Shit Appraisal Master ] nodded hastily:
"It's nothing, we'll just buy some more saw blades."
[ The Good Times Don't Last ] someone tugged at him from behind, and [ the Shit Appraisal Master ] turned around in confusion:
"What's up?"
"You still have money?"
"... That's all."
"Then why buy an egg!"
"Isn't that simple?"
The " Shit Appraisal Master " looked confidently at the half-dragon who emerged from the house carrying a large pile of spears:
"Boss, do you sell saws in Dragonborn Village?"
"Yes, I have."
"Could we replace those ten iron spearheads with saws?"
"No."
"Why?"
The half-dragon pointed to a blacksmith shop on the other side of the road:
"Because the saw doesn't belong to my family."
"... Could we get a partial refund...?"
"Click~"
The half-dragon's knuckles were cracking from being squeezed so hard that deep fingerprints appeared on a wooden stake used to support the shop.
"I didn't hear you clearly, could you say it again?"
I said... could you...?
"I remember someone just saying something about 'cash on delivery,' did I hear that right?"
The three of them remained silent. The shopkeeper stacked the pile of ironware together and returned to the furnace to heat the iron billets.
The kind-hearted [ Concrete Mixed with Spaghetti ] stepped forward and picked up some ironware to help the two load the car, only to find that they were still standing there motionless.
He turned around but couldn't find the player; he only saw two tearful, crying cat heads...
So you really didn't bring any money?
The [ Shit Appraisal Master ]'s tone was full of pleading; at this moment, he and [ Good Times Don't Last ] had become [ Concrete Mixed with Spaghetti ]'s leg attachments, which put the newbie in a very difficult position...
"Dude, I really didn't bring any money. It's not that I don't trust you guys, but think about it, I was on my way to work on the construction site anyway, and I also got a delivery job from the boss. Who can carry cash on them?"
After saying that, he took out his pockets and found only a tree species that the Dragonborn Village did not recognize, and the copper coin that served as a bank card in this other world.
With things having come to this point, the two were at their wits' end, and even the gleaming spearheads had become repulsive.
[ Good Times Don't Last ]: "Waaah, my life is so miserable."
[ Shit Appraisal Master ]: "It's true that your name sounds bitter; I won't be doing business with you next time."
[ The Good Times Don't Last ]: "You can shift the blame for this too?"
[ Shit Appraisal Master ]: "What do you mean by 'passing the buck'? You can start a company called ' Good Times Don't Last Long Logistics Company' and see if you lose money or not."
[ Good Times Don't Last ]: "Is this the same thing?"
Seeing that the two had started arguing and making sarcastic remarks, [ Concrete Mixed with Spaghetti ] joined the fray as a peacemaker:
"Stop arguing, stop arguing, there's actually another way..."
The two of them looked at him simultaneously, their eyes holding a strange light.
"What method?" ×2
"Cough cough."
[ Concrete Mixed with Spaghetti ] Cleared his throat:
"Although we can't get a full refund, if we accept a discount and take on part of the loss... wouldn't that help us regain some working capital?"
The [ Shit Appraisal Master ] stretched his neck out very long:
"They're already selling it at a discount after less than two minutes?"
[ Concrete Mixed with Spaghetti ] Shrug:
"This is the only way to get the money. Besides, it's normal for these consumables to depreciate as soon as you buy them. You can't just say they're 99% new for personal use and sell the mining card for the factory price, can you?"
"But this is truly brand new from the factory!"
[ The Shit Appraisal Master ] points to the blacksmith who pretended not to hear:
"The factory manager is still here!"
[ Concrete Mixed with Spaghetti ] Suddenly, it dawned on me: Right, the factory manager is still here! Why not talk to him directly?
He looked at the half-dragon who was hammering away at the iron and activated the translation function:
"Can we return part of it? We can accept a reasonable discount."
The blacksmith, having finished striking the billet one last time, put down his hammer, turned around, and revealed a row of sharp teeth:
How much discount?
On the carriage back to the castle, [ the Good Times Don't Last ], still shaken, he fiddled with the saw blade and said:
"That blacksmith was quite nice..."
[ The Shit Appraisal Master ] knocked the saw blade out of his hand:
"What a load of rubbish! He just made a free silver coin from this round trip. You're got Stockholm syndrome."
The three men eventually returned the ten iron spearheads, but only received nine silver coins in return. They then used these nine silver coins to purchase seven saws elsewhere (1 silver and 50 copper coins per saw, at an 80% discount).
[ Concrete Mixed with Spaghetti ] then asked:
How much are you planning to price this saw?
The two discussed it for a while, worried that if the price was too high, no one would buy it, but also afraid that if it was too low, they would lose money. After some discussion, they finally said:
"Let's stick with the original price of 1 silver and 50 copper, just to make a meager profit."
Saying these words now, [ Shit Appraisal Master ] truly feels that he is the one who made a mistake in choosing his ID. This is not hard-earned money; it's clearly money earned from history!
The one on the side, Good Times Don't Last, sighed and asked:
"Dude, are you really a rich kid in real life?"
"Barely."
[ The Good Times Don't Last long] After much deliberation, I still chose to speak up and offer advice:
"Then you absolutely mustn't start your own business."