Later, on a road in the Great Labyrinth City.
"Let's check the stock. How many of our 1982 Lafite, no, how many of our 1453 Holy Calendar Ancient High Tier Tool Sets are left?"
"I just checked, there are two sets left. How many people are still on the list?"
"Two: the adventurer Suolaer Aoermo, and the Grand Artisan Keen Risos."
"That's good. I feel like the Great Labyrinth City isn't as safe as Valhalla. I'm always worried about things being stolen when the carriage is parked on the roadside."
The two chatted back and forth as the Hoofed Beast carriage continued to move slowly forward.
They are currently located in the western part of the Great Labyrinth City. Judging from the scale and style of the buildings, they do not belong to the category of ordinary neighborhoods, but they cannot be described as luxurious either. In another world, they could be compared to a typical working-class residential area.
Upon arriving at a house, the [ Shit Appraisal Master ], who had better communication skills, jumped down from the carriage before it had even come to a complete stop and lightly knocked on the iron-clad door in front of him:
Is Mr. Suolaer Aoermo home?
While waiting for the homeowner to open the door, he didn't forget to observe the layout and style of the house. The realism of the World of Disorder was beyond imagination, and the reuse of materials was unprecedented. Even the pattern on the door was a type he had never seen before.
After a few breaths, a somewhat hoarse response came from inside the house, seemingly from the second floor:
"Who's outside? What are they doing?"
"We are the second... no, we are merchants from the Theocracy. We have recently heard of your adventurous adventures and greatly admire you. We have come specifically to pay you a visit and hope you will allow us to come in and meet you."
"Roll!"
An impatient voice came from the second floor, followed by several sharp or dull thuds, as if something had been knocked over.
"Your Excellency Aoermo, we brought some unique tools produced in the Theocracy, and also an invitation to a banquet."
The abrupt interruption did not return; instead, the sound of hesitant footsteps approached, and the wooden door opened a crack about half a head wide in front of the [ Shit Appraisal Master ], revealing a disheveled face behind it.
The [ Shit Appraisal Master ] sized up the guy in front of him, who looked like he hadn't washed up in a month or two, and frowned almost imperceptibly.
It wasn't because the other person was really slovenly, but rather...
This guy is so different from how he was during the election campaign.
Suolaer Aoermo, whether in the portrait posted during the campaign or in person, gives off a sharp and capable impression.
If the candidate with a military background had a temperament more like cold, icy ice, then Suolaer's temperament was more like a wild, outward-flaming fire; just getting close to him or making eye contact with him was enough to be intimidated by his subtle aggression.
The person in front of him looked exactly like Suolaer, with the same build and prosthetic limbs, but lacked that overbearing, intimidating aura. It was like...
Just like the defeated beasts he had seen in nature documentaries.
Dude... what happened to you?
Even if you can't become Grand Foundry Master, you're still a rising star among adventurers. You're not destined to become a homeless person on the street, so why are you so discouraged?
[ Shit Appraisal Master ] had initially suspected that the person in front of him was not a good person, but now that the other party seemed to have completely fallen into a state of despair, he couldn't help but doubt his previous guess.
As he sized up the explorer before him, Suolaer was also sizing up this uninvited Soul Returner.
Fortunately, the appearance of the [ Shit Appraisal Master ] game character was quite ordinary, so it did not attract much attention from Suolaer.
After glancing at him, the captain naturally looked at the "specialty of the Theocracy " he had mentioned.
The Good Times Don't Last long, and the person behind quickly ran up and handed over a black three-tiered storage box.
Upon seeing that there was indeed a gift, Suolaer reluctantly opened the door:
"Come in and sit for a while."
He turned and walked towards the living room with a slight limp, repeatedly tugging at his left sleeve with his right hand.
The two people, having abruptly entered the house from the bright outdoors, found after their eyes adjusted to the new brightness that it was hardly a habitable place.
Isn't this a complete pigsty?
The living room in Suolaer's house, which was supposed to be fairly spacious, was filled with his junk.
Dirty clothes and trousers were scattered everywhere, and some nautical charts, related documents, and nautical instrument models were piled up in several corners.
The only decent-looking table was covered with wine jugs and bottles, the strong aroma of alcohol filling the air. The two sniffed it a few times and quickly identified the varieties—
Isn't this a special blend of engine oil? We all got it for free at a bar back then.
The two players exchanged a glance and smiled silently.
Both of them vividly remember this incident:
There was a tavern in the Great Labyrinth City that claimed its special blend of motor oil was a rare and potent liquor, with the flavor of "three bowls and you're done for".
Naturally, the tavern attracted a group of patrons who were completely immune to pain, and then... then it closed down that very night and never reopened.
The pub's special oil-based cocktail tasted so bad it made you wonder if it actually contained real engine oil.
The specially blended engine oils at Suolaer's house were obviously not that strong, but they were still not something the average person could tolerate.
The drunken captain swept the wine jug, bottles, and glasses to the ground with a flick of his right hand, then placed the rather heavy storage box on the table with his left hand and began to examine it carefully.
Although the toolbox in front of me was made entirely of wood, it produced a metallic clanging sound when tapped lightly.
Next to the top handle, there is a line of numbers engraved: "S-01-001-0128", which looks like some kind of mysterious small number.
Gently stroking the line of numbers, Suolaer casually asked:
What does this number mean?
Upon hearing this question, the two people behind him immediately became interested.
Over its century-long development, while Graycast Corridor have developed standardized production and quality control concepts, they haven't yet reached the point where they can trace production back to a single, precise individual.
Skilled artisans naturally have their own anti-counterfeiting marks, while those who sell junk are certainly unwilling to sign their names on their defective products.
As for things like marking each part with a precise batch number and producer number, like High-Quality Charcoal Processing Plant, Graycast Corridor isn't unwilling to do it, but it simply can't do it at the moment.
[ The Good Times Don't Last ] He stepped forward and began to introduce Suolaer in a practiced tone:
"Your Excellency Captain, this is a limited-edition tool set issued by the Theocracy's ' High-Quality Charcoal Processing Plant.' The first symbol 'S' indicates that this tool set was made by a High Tier producer, while '01' is the producer's exact number, corresponding to a High Tier identity. '001' refers to the first batch of goods, and '0128' is the detailed serial number of the tool set in front of you within this batch."