Chapter 114: Enchanting Incense and Obedient Water
Winkler seemed to have anticipated Santos’s reaction. He sat down calmly, gesturing for Givia and Santos to join him.
Santos glared at him. He had contacted Winkler not out of friendship, but because he had heard through various channels that this man had access to the gang’s potion supply and wouldn’t inquire about the buyer’s identity. He hadn’t expected such a blatant attempt at extortion, demanding two million imperial coins.
Givia and Santos sat down, while Abyss and his companions, having proven their worth during the previous ambush, were also seated at the table, flanking Givia.
A small incense burner rested on the table, releasing a sweet aroma. Wisps of smoke drifted between the two parties.
“Hehe, don’t worry, the price is negotiable,” Winkler said, chuckling, his thin face crinkling with amusement. “You must have heard about the recent explosions that destroyed the Goat Eyes Gang’s warehouses. Potion prices have skyrocketed in the area. Naturally, our prices have adjusted accordingly. However, if you’re sincere and can guarantee you’ll leave the city immediately after receiving the goods, avoiding any unnecessary trouble, I can offer you a fifteen percent discount. That’s one million seven hundred thousand imperial coins. How does that sound?”
“Still too expensive. I’m questioning your sincerity,” Santos said, his gaze fixed on Winkler.
“My sincerity is unquestionable. What’s the highest price you’re willing to pay?” Winkler asked, leaning back comfortably, observing Givia and Santos.
“One million imperial coins. Not a penny more,” Givia said, her voice firm.
Her counter-offer was bold, slashing the price from one million seven hundred thousand to one million, effectively double the normal retail price, even considering the current inflation.
It wasn’t that Givia was stingy or trying to take advantage of them. She simply refused to pay such a high price for a gangster’s greed and cunning. The Restoration Army wasn’t wealthy. Their funds came from raids within the Western Empire and contributions from princess-aligned ministers. Spending one million seven hundred thousand imperial coins would cripple their finances, leaving them struggling to feed their troops, let alone defeat Kevin and reclaim their country.
One million imperial coins was her absolute limit.
Winkler’s expression soured. “That’s unacceptable, Miss. You’re lowballing us. We won’t make any profit. Even if we’re doing business to make friends, this isn’t the way to do it.”
“One million imperial coins. I don’t believe you won’t make a profit,” Givia said, refusing to budge. “The current price surge is temporary, caused by the destruction of the Goat Eyes Gang’s warehouses, not a fundamental shift in the market. Let me remind you, their factories are still operational. If I don’t buy these potions, their value will decrease as the Goat Eyes Gang resumes production. You’ll be the one losing money.”
Winkler hadn’t expected such a calm and rational response from Givia, who seemed young and perhaps a bit naive. He narrowed his eyes, thinking. “One million five hundred thousand. That’s my final offer.”
“One million. Take it or leave it,” Givia said, shaking her head resolutely.
“Hehe… I see…” Winkler chuckled, standing up. “Please wait here for a moment. I’ll consult with my associates. If they agree, I’ll sell them to you for one million.”
He left the basement, closing the door behind him.
Givia sat there, bored, and glanced at Abyss, who seemed to be smiling.
“What are you smiling about, Abyss?” she asked, curious.
“I’m amused by his outdated tactics,” Abyss said, pointing at the incense burner emitting wisps of sweet smoke. “That incense contains a potion. The formula might have been modified, but its primary effects are calming and mood-enhancing.”
“Is that a problem? Is it poisonous? I brought a poison detection kit with me, just in case,” Givia said, pulling out a thin, corked test tube containing a sprig of emerald green grass.
It was called Poison Detection Grass, a common tool used by alchemists. It was highly sensitive to odors and would turn yellow if exposed to any gas harmful to humans.
Givia waved the grass over the incense burner, but it remained green.
“It’s not poisonous. The potion itself is harmless. But prolonged exposure to its fumes can induce subtle changes… For example, making people more agreeable and easily persuaded,” Abyss explained with a smile. “For example, I’d like you to lie down and take a nap. Would you mind?”
“That’s not a problem…” Givia said, then stopped abruptly, covering her mouth with her hand. She, who dreaded sleep due to the nightmares, was the least likely person to agree to a nap. And a nap now would negate the calming effects of the Fountain’s Draw later that night. Why had she so readily agreed to his playful suggestion?
“It’ll get worse,” Abyss said. “He’ll return and demand one million five hundred thousand, and after some ‘careful consideration,’ you’ll agree.”
“What?!” Santos roared, about to confront Winkler, but Givia held him back.
“Abyss… Shouldn’t you…” Flora whispered, suggesting he use his mind control magic to ensure a favorable outcome.
Abyss shook his head mysteriously. “No need. He’s hiding in the kitchen, about to return. I suspect things will get more interesting soon.”
Moments later, Winkler returned, his face beaming with a smile. He sat down heavily. “Sorry for the wait. Let’s discuss the price again. My associates have agreed to a minimum of one million four hundred thousand. What do you say?”
“Not good enough,” Abyss said suddenly. “Because you won’t be the one negotiating with us soon.”
“What?” Winkler asked, confused.
The basement door burst open, and a burly man with a black fedora and a mangled spoon dangling from his mouth descended the stairs.
“Hey, Winkler, this is beautiful. My loyal Winkler, what are you doing here?”
Winkler’s face paled. Before he could react, the burly man threw a thin glass vial at him. It shattered upon impact, releasing a liquid that foamed rapidly, then hardened, instantly encasing Winkler and his chair in a milky white stone!
“Boys, grab these strangers. I need to ask them a few questions.”
The burly man, his words slurred by the spoon in his mouth, issued his command. A group of men wearing black fedoras swarmed into the basement!
***
NOTE:
(Author’s note: The value of imperial coins cannot be directly converted to the currencies of our world, but we can estimate their purchasing power. One imperial coin can buy one or two bottles of Little Sister Spicy Sauce, a popular condiment invented by a transmigrator, or cover a day’s food expenses for an adult who cooks at home.)
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