Two gold credits is no small amount. There’s a reason why the gold credit was put at the top of the Twilight Continent’s monetary system. To put it in perspective; a copper credit is of equal value to a cent. A hundred copper credits is equal to one silver credit—a dollar. The common folk will sell and trade, at most, with silver credits. Gold credits, on another hand, aren’t something they’ll dare toss around lightly. A gold credit is not equal to a hundred silver credits, but a thousand.
Ten was basically charging two thousand U.S. dollars for the oddly-shaped sword!
“Come on now, I know you can afford as much,” Ten urged. It wasn’t like he was scamming Hanul of his money. The [Sea Severing Sword] was indeed worth its price! Albeit common, the materials used were of top quality. Given it was “designed” by the ‘Celestial Blueprint’, it was bound to be extraordinary!
Hanul pondered, still unconvinced that the sword was worth it. ‘Surely the young master of the Huan Clan would not stoop so low into selling me a fraudulent item?’ Even before crossing the borders to the Twilight Continent, Hanul had already heard of Huan Ten and his feats; At the tender age of fifteen, the young prodigy had already cultivated at a level beyond the many elders and old ancestors of the neighboring clans, surpassing their strengths by leaps and bounds. In the eyes of those people, Ten was a terrifying existence.
It came as no surprise why Hanul still kept addressing the young man as ‘young master’ even though the latter had already abandoned said identity. Ten’s reputation had echoed resoundingly throughout the Rising Sun Continent that even an unaffiliated cultivator like Hanul had known of his greatness.
Still, his previous achievements did not explain why he was selling the sword at such a high price. Perhaps coming over the Twilight Continent broke his mental fortitude and thus he was now scamming others for their money?
‘No, that doesn’t make sense either…’
Great cultivators would not only have inhuman strength but astounding mental resilience as well.
If it was the case and Ten was selling him the sword at a righteous price, then as the person who came seeking his help, it would be discourteous of Hanul to turn down the sale.
After thoroughly convincing himself—weighing down the pros and cons in his head—Hanul handed Ten a metallic card aptly called a ‘credit card’. Instead of loan use, however, it was a storage system for a person’s earned credits. Cities with an established government could issue a credit card to any and all people, including immigrants like Ten. The catch - fees in the form of annual taxation would automatically be charged based on the transactions made with the card.
In a sense, the more cards a city would issue, the more they would earn. To keep things organized, a person could only own and carry a single credit card his entire life. The card would never expire — albeit renewable when lost or destroyed — and only death could sever the tie between the owner and their card.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Naturally, like the ‘credit monetary system’ they’re integrated into, the cards have tiers—brown, white, gold, and black—corresponding to their owner’s purchasing power. Each ascending tier has perks and advantages the lower ones do not. Although a person can only own a single credit card, the card itself is easily upgradable through an automatic annual assessment.
Hanul’s card, for one, was white. It showed how even he was an expatriate, his current status was not comparable to that of a local commoner.
Ten accepted the card and whipped out his own. Naturally, his was brown. With a light tap, Ten activated his credit card.
The two credit cards made contact, and the transaction was made. The neon orange-colored ‘2’ which Hanul had input beforehand was displayed on the pearly white surface of the card. After a few seconds, the number vanished.
Hong!
Suddenly, as if time and space warped, the surroundings distorted in a surreal manner before dissipating completely as if a lie.
‘What was that?!’ The oblivious look on Hanul’s face made it clear he did not notice a thing. It seemed Ten was only one who had caught sight of the strange phenomenon.
Ding!
…
[Character Sheet]
Name: Huan Ten [Lvl 1] (1/2)
…
For some inexplicable reason, his ‘Experience Points’ increased by one, pushing him a step closer to finally leveling up. Similarly, on his brown-colored credit card, a single-digit was displayed — 1.
It didn’t take long for Ten to realize what had happened. He took a good look at his character sheet once more. He smiled awkwardly, ‘It seems the circumstance for me to level up is a tad unique… and potentially costly. Nope, scratch that— It’s definitely gonna be costly!’’
He didn’t know whether he should laugh or cry. On one hand, he didn’t have to leave the comfort of his home to increase his strength. It was much like cultivating, albeit in a stranger sense.
On the other hand, his level would completely stagnate if he couldn’t sell a thing. To not be able to get stronger on top of being broke? It was too cruel.
Ten rubbed his glabella in frustration.
---
After everything was settled, Hanul quickly left for Endro Dungeon—a B-rank difficulty dungeon northwest of Cape City. Drunk and frustrated, he rushed to meet his nemesis.
It didn’t take long for him to encounter a medium-sized slime. It was as tall as Hanul.
“There you are, you filthy creature!”
Without hesitation, he wielded the bizarre sword he just bought from Ten and started executing a sword dance. The move was slow and wobbly, but it harnessed great might.
The [Sea Severing Sword] struck the slime.
As if it finally met its rival, the slime’s body trembled violently. With the momentum the sword dance carried, the [Sea Severing Sword] cut the slime in half like a hot knife through a pat of butter.
Splat!
Innards of indeterminate origins splattered all over, painting the dungeon walls in vile green.
“Holy shit!”