DKIE CH5: The Merchant Guild President
The three words were spoken with such clarity that everyone nearby with decent hearing turned to look at Luka with strange expressions.
If it weren’t for the fact that this young customer looked quite serious, the shop assistant would have thought he was here to make trouble.
She replied softly, “Storybooks… don’t really sell here.”
This was completely different from what Luka had imagined.
Aren’t you supposed to mock me? Drive me out?
Come on, throw some sarcasm at me for daring to bring a mere storybook to the Rare Treasures Pavilion.
How else am I supposed to create a scene, attract the real boss’s attention, and make him notice how extraordinary I am?
Frustrated, Luka turned his head and coughed lightly.
His face flushed slightly from the effort.
“Sorry, I got a bit injured last night.”
The Boulder City strictly forbids fighting, and given the timing, the shop assistant couldn’t help but ask, “You wouldn’t happen to be… the only injured one from last night?”
Earlier this morning, the city had publicly announced the casualties and compensation details, confirming that the Storm Dragon had indeed informed the city lord in advance and avoided large-scale casualties.
“That’s right. That’s me.” Luka coughed again, twice for added effect.
The scornful gazes around him gradually shifted away, replaced with faint chuckles.
Someone muttered, “What an unlucky bastard.”
And then… that was it.
Luka felt utterly defeated.
Why aren’t you guys laughing at me louder?
The people around him were now even looking at him with a hint of… sympathy.
Luka had no choice but to maintain a straight face and continue, “Are you accepting this or not? My book is really something.”
The shop assistant, maintaining her professionalism, replied, “We’ll have to inspect the product first.”
“I haven’t written it yet.”
“……”
Luka decided to take an unconventional approach.
“I’m here to inquire about the evaluation standards in advance. For example, if we sign a betting agreement, how much profit would I need to make? Or what other criteria are there?”
A betting agreement.
The shop assistant was momentarily stunned by the unfamiliar term.
Her years of experience in the trade told her that this sounded like an interesting business strategy, but she couldn’t quite grasp its deeper meaning.
As for the evaluation standards… she had no answer.
After all, besides rare magical tomes, the Rare Treasures Pavilion had never accepted any other kind of book before.
“You there, brat. Are you here to make trouble?”
A grumpy dwarf who had been arguing with the staff turned around and snapped at him.
Luka’s eyes lit up.
Ah, still gotta be you dwarves.
Having already clashed with this race once before, Luka knew exactly how to provoke them.
He deliberately tilted his head back at a proud 45-degree angle, putting on a condescending expression that practically screamed: “Trash like you doesn’t even deserve to speak to me.”
The dwarf was instantly enraged.
If it weren’t for the city’s strict laws against violence, he would’ve charged at Luka right then and there.
Seeing that the president of the merchant guild still hadn’t shown up, the dwarf turned to leave. As he passed by Luka, he deliberately rammed into him with his shoulder.
“Ow.” Luka staggered, nearly falling over. The shop assistant quickly reached out to steady him.
In that moment, Luka “accidentally” revealed the bracelet on his wrist.
“Thank you.” Luka barely had time to stand upright before hastily pulling his sleeve down.
The commotion naturally caught the attention of those in the top-floor private box.
The owner of the Rare Treasures Pavilion, and heir to the Rhine family, Karen, had been watching the minor scuffle below with little interest.
However, when his gaze swept over the inscription on the bracelet, he paused.
Karen’s eyes narrowed as he examined the boy more closely.
The boy’s clothes were made of rough linen, the kind only worn by lower-class commoners. A longbow hung on his back, with faint traces of blood on the edges — though the scent of the blood belonged to another race. Unfortunately, the distance was too far for Karen to sense more details unless he examined the bow up close.
Dressed like a commoner, yet carrying an item with ancient, intricate engravings.
Interesting.
With nothing better to do, Karen gave the guard beside him a light nod.
“Bring that kid up.”
…
Meanwhile, downstairs, Luka and the dwarf were still exchanging insults.
Luka sneered, “Keep shoulder-checking people like that, and one day, you’ll lose that shoulder of yours.”
The dwarf glared at him viciously. “If you’ve got the guts, step outside the city and settle this.”
“Not interested,” Luka grinned, eyes narrowing. “It’s not like I haven’t killed your kind before.”
Luka pulled an arrow from the quiver on his back and tossed it over. “Smell it. Isn’t that the disgusting stench of your kin’s blood?”
At first, no one took him seriously, but the next second, the dwarf’s face twisted in fury. He could indeed sense the faint scent of his own race from the bloodstains.
“You’re asking for death!”
Before the surrounding magical elements could turn violent, the shop assistant coldly reminded him, “No fighting inside the Rare Treasures Pavilion.”
The shop assistant’s gaze shifted to Luka, and so did everyone else’s.
Why would a seemingly weak and ordinary boy be carrying an arrow stained with dwarf blood?
Before the tension could escalate, heavy footsteps echoed from the upper floors.
A man descended the stairs. He was a swordsman, muscular and sharp-eyed, clearly not someone to be trifled with.
Ignoring the other guests, he walked straight up to Luka. “The president wants to see you.”
“Him?” The dwarf blurted out in disbelief. “How is that possible?!”
Any further complaints were swallowed when the swordsman shot him a warning glare.
Meanwhile, the guests who had been waiting in line for hours darkened their faces.
What kind of joke is this?
They’d been waiting forever, and the president chose to meet… some unknown kid?
Luka followed the swordsman upstairs, but not before turning back to glance at the dwarf with a smirk: “Pathetic little thing.”
The word “little” struck the dwarf’s nerve like a hammer to the head.
Yet, bound by the Pavilion’s rules, he could only stand there fuming, face red and veins bulging.
…
The swordsman deliberately slowed his steps.
From what he’d observed earlier, this boy was arrogant and reckless.
Yet now, Luka showed no trace of excitement at being summoned by the president.
On the top floor, the private suite was lavishly decorated. A magic bean brewed in a pot, bubbling gently.
The legendary president of the merchant guild was unexpectedly young. He wore a massive ruby ring on his overly slender fingers, and his clothes were a complex blend of vintage and luxury — even the buttons were stitched with golden threads.
Luka’s eyes nearly got stuck on the details.
Aside from the swordsman, there was also a high-level mage hidden in the shadows.
“Please, have a seat.” The man’s emerald green eyes gleamed as he introduced himself. “I’m Karen.”
“Luka.”
Having climbed several flights of stairs, Luka’s cough flared up again the moment he spoke.
Karen clapped his hands, and a servant brought in a cup of water for Luka.
Without wasting time on pleasantries, Karen got straight to the point. “Do you know why I called you up while so many others are still waiting?”
Luka answered without hesitation, “Because you want to give young people a chance.”
“…”
Karen was speechless for a moment.
“I heard you want to publish a book,” Karen continued. “If you want the Rhine Merchant Guild to handle distribution, your book must generate at least 10,000 gold coins in profit within a year.”
For the merchant guild, that wasn’t much.
But on this continent, even the combined sales of all non-magical books rarely exceeded three to five thousand gold coins a year.
“Of course,” Karen added, “unless your book holds some… special value.”
Luka thought for a moment and said, “Three days. I’ll provide a sample manuscript. You can decide after reading it.”
Karen was a straightforward man. With a wave of his hand, he agreed.
As Luka was about to leave, he hesitated and awkwardly said, “Writing requires a quiet environment. I left home in a hurry and… didn’t bring enough money.”
Karen chuckled. “That’s easy.”
He glanced at the swordsman. “Dena, take him to the guesthouse and arrange a room.”
Dena motioned for Luka to follow.
“Much appreciated.”
…
The meeting was brief.
Shortly after Luka left, a shadowy figure emerged from the corner of the room.
Karen gently rubbed the gemstone on his ring and asked, “Did you sense anything?”
“That boy is carrying at least four magic-restricting artifacts, and the enchantments on them are ancient. I tried to probe their structure, but even I can’t replicate such techniques.”
“Even you can’t?” Karen’s expression finally showed a hint of surprise.
Suddenly, this strange and weak-looking boy seemed far more intriguing.
The guesthouse was located in a quiet corner of the city. Luka was assigned a private courtyard, and his quality of life instantly skyrocketed.
An elderly woman named Maya was responsible for looking after him. “If you need anything, just let me know.”
Luka nodded, and Maya left.
…
“Crafty little brat,” the enchanted quill resting on Luka’s desk sneered.
“You’re pretending to be some powerful mage, huh? Just to fool that merchant.”
“You’re wrong about that,” Luka replied lazily. “You’re forgetting one thing — I came to the Boulder City alone. If I really were that weak, how could I have made it here alive?”
Every path leading into the city was teeming with danger.
Besides, Luka knew that the enchantments on the quill were top-tier, capable of intimidating most mages.
“You’re not afraid Karen will send someone to test you?”
Luka smirked. “Don’t forget the rules of the Boulder City.”
Karen was a businessman. Without absolute certainty, he wouldn’t risk offending someone who might be far more powerful than he appeared.
As for whether Luka’s writing could truly impress Karen…
Well, that was a problem for three days later.
If you’re going to live, live brilliantly.
If you’re going to die, at least die as a well-fed corpse.
Now that he had a luxurious guesthouse to stay in, Luka wasn’t about to waste the opportunity.
After ending the conversation with the enchanted quill, Luka reached under his clothes and touched the cheap pendant hanging around his neck.
He suddenly sneered and muttered to himself, “Damn old man. If not for the three rules we agreed on, would I have been thrown into the sky by that damn Storm Dragon?”
Karen wouldn’t dare attack him directly, but sending someone to secretly keep watch was highly likely.
If you’re going to act, you better play the part to the end.
In a dark corner of the courtyard, the spy assigned to observe him wrote his first report of the day:
“Report to the president: This kid’s background must be extraordinary.”
The quill nearly burst out laughing from Luka’s theatrics.
One line wasn’t enough. Luka stood up and added,
“Just watch, old man. From writing novels, I’ll rise step by step and become the greatest revolutionary of this era.”
The spy hesitated, then wrote down the second line:
“Report to the president: This kid is full of sh*t.”
…
Luka coughed three times from the cold wind and stumbled back into the house.
The room’s interior had a medieval European vibe — candle holders, magical lamps that required activating the electric inscriptions to light up, and…
The same magic bean pot the merchant guild president used.
As Luka admired his luxurious new residence, the enchanted quill reminded him: “You’re overacting.”
“I know.”
Arrogant. Immature. Desperate to prove himself.
A person with such obvious character flaws is easier to let your guard down around.
Luka rummaged through the kitchen and found some magic beans, which smelled a bit like hazelnut coffee — slightly bitter.
He boiled some water and sweet-talked the quill into heating the pot for him.
“I’m not joking about my ambitions.”
“Directly gaining the loyalty of the dragon race? Impossible.
I have to first earn their favor, then use the power of the dragons to bring true change to this era.
Only then can I gather true followers and reshape this world.”
Each step was as difficult as ascending to the heavens.
Yet Luka spoke as casually as if he were brewing a pot of magic beans.
Finally, Luka straightened his back and declared,
“As long as you dare to dream, you’re already unstoppable.”
Under the warm candlelight, his pale face looked almost delicate, and his long lashes trembled slightly — clearly forcing himself to stay strong.
But…
A young man working hard to build his dreams is always the most charming.
Luka’s confidence, for some reason, wasn’t annoying at all.
Because he wasn’t bluffing.
…
On his way here, Luka had carefully observed the Boulder City and noticed something critical:
The power of this era was vast, but its limitations were equally obvious.
For example, to transport heavy construction materials to higher floors, people relied on hiring mages to use levitation magic.
In fact, a simple pulley system or elevator could easily replace them.
However, people here were so accustomed to ancient methods that they never considered innovation.
They focused all their creativity on weapon development, from the most basic energy models to tens of thousands of magical frameworks and advanced enchantments.
Luka murmured,
“If I want to earn the favor of the dragons, I need to give them something they desperately need.”
The quill, in its usual sarcastic tone, replied,
“The dragon race struggles with reproduction. Are you planning to… help them with that?”
Luka’s eyes lit up, and he clapped his hands.
“Great idea!”
The quill froze.
“Wait, are demon men… capable of carrying other races’ offspring?”
Was this some obscure dark knowledge it had missed?
The quill silently floated three inches away from Luka.
“…”
Noticing the quill’s reaction, Luka resisted the urge to curse and gritted his teeth:
“I can’t give birth…
But you can.”
“…What the hell do you mean?”
The quill hadn’t fully processed the information yet.
Luka smiled mysteriously.
“No better time than now. Let’s begin.”