All Chapters of THE VIRGIN MERCHANT: Buying Modern Warfare In Another World: Chapter 61
- Chapter 70
129 chapters
Chapter 61
By the end of the week, my name wasn't just a topic of conversation; it was a contagion. The "Merchant of Wonders" had become a mythical figure in the Southern Territory, and the dwarf mines, once a place people only went to die of lung disease, were now the hottest tourist destination for the desperate and the curious.The logistical byproduct of this fame? A bartering economy that was frankly getting out of hand.Villagers from three hamlets over were trekking through monster-infested canyons just to trade a basket of slightly wilted kale for a "Divine Pop." See, word had gotten out that my lollipops could "cure sickness and lift curses." It was total nonsense, it was just high-fructose corn syrup and Red Dye No. 40, but in a world where "sugar" usually meant a gritty beet-root mash, my strawberry pops were basically Holy Relics. If a kid had a cold and felt better after a sugar rush, clearly, Arthur was a saint.To keep the peace, I opened a dedicated "Pop Shop" on the edge of the
Chapter 62
A steady stream of water began to flow. Pure, cold, and utterly impossible."It is the blood of the wind!" one of the village elders cried out, falling to his knees. "The Master has bled the sky!""It’s not blood, it’s atmospheric harvesting!" I yelled back, though I knew it was useless. "Phase One is live! We’ve got the water, we’ve got the power, and we’ve got the Cheetos! By the time Rufus and Helga get here, this 'Cursed Land' is going to be the most profitable piece of dirt in the hemisphere!"I leaned back, watching the water fill the tank. I had 6,300 VP, now two suitcases of Hearthstones, and a team of legends who thought I was a god."Now," I muttered to myself, a devious grin spreading across my face. "Who’s hungry for some 'Divine' dehydrated noodles?"******The next day, I was exhausted like a mother of toddlers because, building a kingdom is 5% sitting on a throne looking regal and 95% screaming about fecal coliform counts.Within another week, I had realized that the gr
Chapter 63
And now, my industrial oasis?The plateau was no longer a "desolate wasteland." It was now home to a glittering forest of 100 Solar-Powered Hydrogel Harvesters, their metallic frames catching the brutal sun and sweating out life-giving water into reinforced vats. Around them sat the infrastructure of a modern labor camp: weather-resistant tents, and, of course, the ubiquitous $5 plastic chairs and tables.The aesthetic was "Post-Apocalyptic Chic meets Suburban BBQ."But the crown jewel? My new Merchant Shop.I’d leveraged my relationship with Chief Eto to get it built in record time right in the heart of the dwarf mining district. It stood there, a beacon of limestone and reinforced timber, topped with a fresh array of solar panels that hummed in the midday heat.I stepped into the shop, my boots echoing on the polished stone floor. It was currently a hollow shell, smelling of fresh sawdust and potential. Stacks of unopened boxes sat in the corner, my "Treasures of the New World." I e
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"The best VP can buy," I replied with a wink. "Now, follow me. We have fresh coffee brewing, the suite is cooled to perfection, and I’ve got a bag of 'Sun-Crisp' shards with your names on them. We have a lot to discuss, mostly about how I’m going to become the sole provider of oilseeds for the entire Southern Territory."As I led them toward the building, I could feel the weight of their gaze on my back. I was the boy they’d met in the mud, now leading them through a landscape of "divine" technology."Master Art," Elsa whispered as we approached the glass doors. "The dwarves are asking if they should play the 'ABBA' for the guests.""No, Elsa," I muttered, suppressing a grin. "Let’s start with some light jazz. We’re trying to look sophisticated, not like we’re about to have a beast-massacre." Because I know, the arrival of Rufus and Mistress Helga was less of a "Merchant visit" and more of a medical emergency.They had approached the mountain expecting a dusty mining camp. Instead, th
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"Master Art!" Elsa shouted, bursting onto the balcony. She was already fully armed, her elven bow glowing with a cold, blue light. Behind her, Jeon was cracking his knuckles, his pink shirt stretching precariously over his lats."Status!" I barked."T-too many! Damn it! There were too many!" Eto wailed, running toward us. "Our shields cannot hold against the sound! Their cries shatter our concentration! Master, if you have some divine weapon... some ancient relic to stop the screeching!"I frowned…yeah, what the hell im supposed to do now? I'm running out of VPs that could buy nuclear bombs.I looked at the chaos. Magic was flying everywhere, Herbert was lobbing fireballs that looked like miniature suns, and Milla was weaving threads of ice that decapitated dozens of the creatures at a time. But for every ten they killed, fifty more swarmed from the shadows. “What the hell!” The dwarves were being overrun because they couldn't coordinate; the bats' screaming was a literal signal-jammer
Chapter 66
RUFUS POVI stared at the "Yellow Box" as the last echoes of that terrifying, rhythmic sorcery faded into the mountain air. My heart was thudding against my ribs, not from fear, but from the sheer, soul-shaking realization that everything I knew about the world was a lie.A few months ago, my biggest concern was whether the forge would hold its heat and if I’d have enough ale to drown out the boredom of another southern winter. Then Arthur walked into my life. No, he didn't walk; he erupted into it.I looked at him now, leaning over the balcony of his "Suite" with a nonchalance that bordered on the divine. He wasn't the scrawny, trembling boy I’d met in the mud. He had filled out; his shoulders were broad, his posture held the quiet iron of a commander, and his skin, once marred by the pox of youth, was now as clear as high-grade marble. He looked like a prince of a kingdom that didn't exist yet, clad in that strange, seamless "tunic" and those rugged, blackened boots.I looked down a
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“Soon,” I thought, my fingers tracing the rim of the ceramic mug.Arthur believes he is building a "Merchant Monopoly." He believes he is "Tapping the Oxygen"—a phrase I still struggle to grasp, but one that clearly refers to his ability to manifest the impossible from thin air. He is a fountain of divine artifacts, and he is playing at being a merchant in a desert.Let him build. Let him plant his "Super-Seeds" and fill his "Merchant Shop" with wonders. I will continue to be his "helpful maid." I will train his farmers and analyze his hydrogels. I will learn the secret of the "Yellow Box" and the "Megaphone." And when the time is right, when the "Cursed Land" is the wealthiest territory in the hemisphere...I will not just take his kingdom. I will take his secrets.He thinks this paradise is his forever. He is a child playing with the tools of gods, unaware that a predator is sitting at his table, drinking his coffee, and learning his every move."Is the meat to your liking, Elene?"
Chapter 68
“Holy freaking hell! I am rich!” I let out a long, low whistle, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. Waking up with a 50,000 VP windfall is usually the highlight of my fiscal quarter, let alone my week. But the price of admission? Let’s just say my dignity was currently in a shallow grave somewhere in the dwarf mines."Good grief," I muttered, rubbing my temples as the memories, the blurry, terrifying memories, came flooding back.The "Post-Disco-Massacre Banquet" had been a sensory overload of the worst kind. Saving a dwarf colony with the power of 70s pop turns out to be a double-edged sword. One minute I’m the King of Disco, and the next, I’m being tackled by the "rugby scrum of gratitude."I remembered the sea of braided hair. The overwhelming, earthy aroma of forge-soot, stale ale, and sheer, unbridled dwarf enthusiasm. One sturdy lass had hugged me with the force of a hydraulic press, and my "Old Soul" meter, already flickering in the red from the sheer social anxiety of i
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The next day.The morning air was crisp, scented with the familiar, high-end aroma of the coffee machine hissed as it labored through its twentieth cup of the morning. Rufus and Lady Helga were sitting on the edge of my plush sofa, looking like they hadn’t slept a wink. They claimed they stayed because of "regional interest," but I knew the truth, they were addicts. They were waiting for the next "divine" revelation like kids waiting for Santa, and waiting for the shop opening, only Santa had a mesh-back office chair and a 68,500 VP balance.I set my mug down on a coaster, real slate, 5 VP a set, and leaned forward."Alright, gather 'round. We’re going live," I announced, my voice bouncing off the new solar-powered LED sconces I’d installed overnight. I’d set them to a soft, 'Vegas-Sunset' amber, mostly because I liked the way the color made the dwarf-gold trim on the curtains pop."Master Art," Elsa said, her tablet, a sleek, glass-screened device I’d manifested for her to track i
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The next day, the grand opening.When I pulled back the curtains of the shop at 8:00 AM, I nearly dropped my coffee."Sea gods," I muttered. "Is there a concert I didn't know about?"The line didn't just wrap around the building; it snaked down the newly paved cement road and disappeared into the dust of the valley. It wasn't just my villagers or the stinky-but-now-clean dwarves. There were carriages—actual, gilded carriages, bearing crests from the capital. Word of the "Divine Pop" and the "Sun-Crisp Shards" had reached the nobility, and they had descended upon my shop like a swarm of very wealthy locusts.My team was ready. I’d dressed them in the new "Corporate Identity" uniform: vibrant yellow-green shirts and matching yellow caps.The Enforcers: Jeon and Herbert stood at the entrance, arms crossed, their biceps threatening to turn the yellow-green sleeves into confetti. With their polarized sunglasses and "don't-even-think-about-shoplifting" glares, they looked less like guards a