Matthew didn't turn his head. Using the motion of flipping through the material catalog, he subtly swept his gaze over from the corner of his eye.
The newcomer wore a deep grey robe. The garment was very ordinary, even somewhat old. He was the type of person who would be hard to notice a second time in a crowd. He looked to be around forty years old, with a ring of short stubble on his chin. In his hand, he carried a long wooden box. The box wasn't large, barely half a meter long, and its surface was wrapped in a layer of coarse cloth, making it impossible to see what was inside.
His attire was as ordinary as could be, but Matthew keenly noticed one detail: the man's steps. They were very steady—not the lazy gait of an ordinary merchant, nor the deliberately guarded pace of a mercenary. It was a natural rhythm formed from long-term physical control. The distance of each step was almost identical; his footfalls were light, yet exceptionally solid.
Matthew only took a single glance before withdrawing his gaze. He couldn't keep staring, as that would easily attract attention.
The owner had already stood up and waved the man over. “We’ll talk in the back.”
The man nodded. The two of them walked one after the other into the compartment behind the counter. The cloth curtain was gently lowered, sealing off the interior. The entire process took no more than a dozen seconds. The shop returned to silence as if nothing had happened.
Matthew remained where he was, flipping through the catalog, but his mind had already begun to process the situation. Trading away from other customers suggested the item wasn't suitable for public display. It could be a valuable item, or perhaps its origin was questionable... or it might be some kind of special material.
However, Matthew didn't rashly release his Spirit to investigate. This was the Royal Capital, not the wilderness. Who knew if there were people inside much stronger than himself? A spiritual probe was an offense in its own right; once discovered, the loss would outweigh the gain.
Patience. This was what Matthew constantly told himself. With that thought, he refocused his attention on the catalog. This time, he began to read the material descriptions seriously. Many names were worth remembering. Even if he couldn't afford them now, they would surely come in handy later.
For example:
【Silver Moon Grass】
Mainly used for refining Spirit-type potions. Can slowly restore Spirit.
Price: 35 gold coins per stalk.
Matthew committed it to memory. Spirit recovery was a resource he would definitely need in the future.
Further down:
【Crimson Flame Ore】
A special ore formed in high-temperature environments. Required for some enchanted weapons.
Price: 82 gold coins.
【Shadow Spider Silk】
Extremely resilient. Can be used to make wizard robes, scrolls, and special equipment.
Price: 110 gold coins.
As he flipped through page after page, Matthew's horizons broadened. The few materials available in the County Seat were likely not even worth a common corner of what was here. This was the true center of resources.
Just then, a sentence drifted faintly from the compartment. The voice was kept very low, almost inaudible to an ordinary person. But after being strengthened by Spirit, Matthew still managed to catch a few scattered words.
“...Theater District...”
His movements paused for an imperceptible moment before he continued flipping through the book as if he hadn't heard anything. A few seconds later, a second sentence came through intermittently.
“...quantity... decreasing...”
The third sentence was even more blurred; he could only hear two words.
“...tonight...”
Then, the voices vanished completely.
Matthew's heart, however, was already stirring. The Theater District. It was the Theater District again. Throughout the past day, the Theater District had been mentioned many times. Patrols, vampires, night, cordons. And now, a material merchant mentioned it during a secret transaction.
A coincidence? Matthew never believed in so many coincidences. However, three fragmented words still didn't prove much. It could just be a delivery of goods or a common business deal. He wouldn't make rash associations because of it.
After about fifteen minutes, the cloth curtain was lifted again, and the grey-robed man walked out. The wooden box was gone. Clearly, the item had been sold. The owner's smile was noticeably thicker than before as he escorted the man all the way to the door.
“If you have more in the future... same price as always.”
The grey-robed man nodded without a single word of nonsense. He turned and left, quickly disappearing into the flow of people.
The owner returned to the counter, obviously in a good mood. Only then did Matthew close the catalog and slowly walk over.
“Boss.”
The old man looked up. “Found something?”
Matthew nodded. “It’s my first time in the Royal Capital. I haven't seen many of these materials before.”
The old man chuckled. “That’s normal. Young man, you’re from the County Seat, aren't you?”
Matthew didn't deny it. “Yes.”
The old man wore an expression that said ‘I knew it.’ “The Royal Capital is different from the County Seat. Everything is in short supply here, yet everything is available. As long as you have gold coins, you can buy many things you never even dreamed of before.”
After saying that, the old man added, “Of course, being able to buy it doesn't mean you can afford to use it.”
Matthew smiled. “What do you mean by that?”
The old man casually picked up a piece of black ore from the counter and gently placed it in front of Matthew. “Recognize this?”
Matthew shook his head.
“Obsidian Fine Iron,” the old man said. “Good stuff. An ordinary Knight wouldn't even touch it in their entire life. But even if you gave it to an ordinary blacksmith, he wouldn't be able to forge it. Materials are important, but what’s truly valuable are the people who can use them.”
Matthew nodded thoughtfully. This sentence gave him a new inspiration. What was truly expensive wasn't the resource itself, but the knowledge. Whoever possessed the knowledge possessed the wealth. And Wizards... happened to be the group that possessed the most knowledge in this world.
Matthew didn't immediately reply. Instead, he looked down at the piece of Obsidian Fine Iron. The ore was only about the size of a fist and entirely pitch-black, but its surface wasn't without luster. Under the sunlight, it shimmered with fine silver specks, like stars scattered across the night sky. Just seeing it in the owner's hand, one could feel a sense of heaviness.
The old man put the ore back on the counter and slowly said, “Many young people come to the Royal Capital thinking that treasures are everywhere. They're actually right. The Royal Capital really does have everything. But what truly limits people is never that they can't buy it, but that they can't afford to use it. Just like this piece of Obsidian Fine Iron—it’s worth nearly two hundred gold coins. But without a Senior Blacksmith, no matter how good the ore is, it’s just a rock.”
Matthew nodded. He suddenly thought of his cheat. He could constantly improve the quality of equipment, but if he obtained increasingly high-level materials in the future, would he need corresponding alchemists, enchanters, or blacksmiths to process them? It seemed that in the future, he wouldn't just need to look for resources, but also for talent. Knowledge, technology, and professions—these things held higher value in the Royal Capital than gold coins.
With that thought, Matthew slowly placed the catalog back on the counter. “I’ve certainly learned something today.”
The owner laughed heartily. “Young man, it doesn't hurt to look around. The Royal Capital has no shortage of opportunities.”
The old man paused, then added another sentence. “Of course, it also has no shortage of dead people.”
The remark was made casually, as if he were just talking about today's weather. But Matthew heard the underlying meaning. The more resources there were, the more intense the competition. This wasn't the County Seat. In the County Seat, a Blue-quality weapon was enough to make many people's eyes turn red with envy. But in the Royal Capital, who knew how many treasures circulated every day? Similarly, no one knew how many people lost their lives for these things daily.
Matthew didn't continue the topic. He casually bought a booklet on common alchemical materials and spent a few silver coins to buy the latest edition of the Royal Capital commercial map. These things weren't expensive but were very practical.
The owner took the gold coins and said with a smile, “First time in the Royal Capital?”
“Yes.”
“Then you made the right choice with that map. Many places on there are easy for outsiders to get lost in. Also, the locations of quite a few shops change every month.”
Matthew unfolded the map and took a brief glance. The map was drawn in great detail: the Central Commercial District, the Class Holder Plaza, the Materials Market, the Auction House, the mercenary tavern, the Noble District, the Scholar District, the Port District... even the location of the Theater District was marked quite prominently.
Matthew's gaze lingered on the words ‘Theater District’ for two seconds before he nonchalantly tucked the map away. “Thank you.”
The owner waved his hand. “Take care.”
Walking out of the shop, the sunlight was still bright. There were more pedestrians on the street than before. Sounds of shopkeepers greeting customers came constantly from both sides. Aidan, holding a few daily necessities he had just bought, ran a few steps to catch up.
“Brother Matthew, are we going to keep looking around?”
Matthew nodded. “We’ll continue. The Materials Market is just one corner of the Royal Capital, and it’s still early.”
Aidan smiled. “Where to next?”
Matthew looked toward the end of the street. There, a tall, domed building faintly came into view. Several white stone pillars stood in front of the building, and people were constantly entering and leaving. Its scale far exceeded the surrounding shops. There were even several fully armed guards standing watch at the entrance.
“What’s that place?” Matthew asked casually.
Aidan followed his gaze. “An auction house. I heard it’s one of the largest in the Royal Capital. However, there’s no formal auction today, only ordinary consignments.”
Matthew's eyes shifted slightly. An auction house was a very special place. Not only did they sell things, but it was also easier to obtain information there. The flow of many precious items, the needs of many nobles, and the transactions between many Class holders would all leave traces there.
However, he wasn't in a rush to go over. With his current wealth, even if he went in, he would just be looking. It wouldn't mean much. What truly interested him was the mercenary tavern. The people there might not be as wealthy as nobles or as shrewd as merchants, but they knew many things ordinary people didn't—especially all sorts of rumors, urban legends, and shady news.
With that thought, Matthew withdrew his gaze. “Let’s go to a mercenary tavern.”
Aidan was stunned for a moment. “Now?”
“Yes. The tavern is busiest during the day. Truly valuable information often leaks out then.”
The two changed directions and headed toward the other side of the Class Holder Plaza. The closer they got to the tavern, the stronger the smell of alcohol became, mixed with the scents of roast meat, tobacco, and leather. From quite a distance, they could hear the boisterous laughter coming from inside. People were clinking glasses, laughing, arguing, and some mercenaries were loudly boasting about their experiences completing missions.
The corners of Matthew's mouth curled up slightly. If an auction house sold commodities, then a mercenary tavern sold information. And often, the value of the latter far exceeded the former.
The two continued along the street. Before they even reached the tavern, the noisy sounds were already drifting out from afar—hearty laughter, the clinking of glasses, the harsh scraping of wooden chairs on the floor, and the sound of someone slapping a table while loudly boasting about their adventures. All sorts of sounds mixed together, creating a bustle full of life.
Matthew didn't stop. Instead, he slowed his pace and began to carefully observe his surroundings. The area in front of the tavern was much livelier than ordinary shops. Many mercenaries sat on benches outside; some were wiping their weapons, some were re-stitching leather straps on their armor, and a few young Class holders were arguing until they were red in the face around a mission announcement wall.
A huge wooden sign stood by the entrance, densely covered with all sorts of pinned commissions: searching for missing merchant caravans, escorting goods, hunting magical beasts, collecting materials, searching for lost children, and even long-term tasks like assisting nobles in manor patrols.
Aidan couldn't help but take a look and whispered, “The missions in the Royal Capital are far more numerous than in the County Seat.”
Matthew nodded. “The larger the population, the greater the demand. Naturally, there are more mercenaries too.”
As he spoke, the two stepped into the tavern. As soon as they pushed open the heavy wooden door, a scent mixed with ale, charcoal fire, roast meat, and tobacco hit them. The tavern hall was large, with at least forty or fifty tables, and more than half were currently occupied.
Mercenaries, caravan guards, bounty hunters, traveling merchants, and occasionally a few Class holders in light armor could be seen. They were in groups of three to five; some were drinking heavily, some were looking down at maps, and some were constantly flirting with the tavern waitresses. The entire hall was exceptionally lively.
This kind of place gathered a group of the most well-informed people in the Royal Capital. Matthew wasn't in a hurry to strike up a conversation. Instead, just like yesterday, he first found a corner seat and sat down.
“Let’s order two drinks first. Nothing too expensive.”
Aidan nodded and soon brought back two glasses of the most ordinary ale. Matthew didn't drink; he just placed the glass on the table. His attention was focused more on the conversations in the hall. The people here never deliberately lowered their voices when chatting, as most of what they discussed were just daily observations. For someone with an intent, it was actually easiest to piece together valuable information from these fragmented words.
At the nearest table...
............................................
............................................
Rate on N.U.
