I started waiting by the stall from early morning. As the sun illuminated the square, the crowd slowly began to grow. Adventurers, merchants, and hunters filled every corner of the market. Everyone was making their final preparations before entering the tower. Some were looking for new weapons, while others were replenishing their potions. I, on the other hand, was eager to sell the weapons I had repaired.

After a while, my first customer approached my stall. He was a young hunter, clad in leather armor. He picked up one of the swords and examined it carefully.

"This sword looks very old, but... it's been repaired quite well," he said. "Who did this?"

I felt a sense of pride for a moment. "I did," I replied. "I repaired and reforged it."

The hunter weighed the sword again. "Even in its repaired state, it feels very sturdy. How much for it?"

I thought for a moment. Tower coins were quite valuable in the current market, and I knew that my sales could create a great opportunity for my mother. "I'm asking 12 tower coins for this sword," I said.

The young hunter thought for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, I'll take it." In an instant, 12 tower coins appeared in his hand. I tossed the coins into the pouch I had brought with me and handed the hunter his sword.

As the hours passed, a few more hunters came to my stall and showed interest in the weapons I had repaired. Some bought a mace, others a staff. With each sale, the number of tower coins I earned slowly increased.

As the day progressed, I felt a strange tension in the crowd. There was a sudden silence in the marketplace, and a few people fixed their gaze on the tower. There was movement at the tower. The hunters waiting in line to enter seemed to sense the approaching danger. The tower gates slowly opened, and a group of high-level hunters emerged. Their heavy armor and gleaming weapons made it clear how powerful they were. Everyone knew who they were: the Tower Climbers.

The Tower Climbers were elite hunters who advanced in the tower, reaching higher floors, and completing the most dangerous quests. As they passed through the market, a weight seemed to settle on everyone. Once they were gone, the market returned to its usual hustle and bustle, but their presence had left a lasting impression on the crowd.

Hours passed by, and I managed to sell everything except for the Vampiric Sword. In total, I had earned 72 tower coins—almost a few months' worth of earnings in a single day. A large part of this money came from hunters who had fallen into traps and lost their lives, as I had taken their hard-earned items and resold them. Yet, it was too late for regrets because I had done what needed to be done.

There was a strange commotion in the marketplace. People were whispering to one another, gathering in small groups. At first, I didn't understand what was happening, but as I looked at the place where the crowd was focusing, I noticed something: everyone was converging in one direction, their eyes fixed on the tower.

When I overheard a passing merchant's conversation, I realized why it had drawn so much attention. "Yoshida Isamu," one of them said. "He's coming here. He's going to enter the 60th floor today."

This name was on everyone's lips because he was one of the few hunters who had reached the 60th floor of the tower. He was a legendary climber, overcoming the challenges of the tower over the years, gaining strength, and always managing to return. Having someone like him here grabbed the attention of the entire square.

"Yoshida Isamu? Really?" said another voice. "They say he never struggles while passing each floor. He moves through the tower as if he's on a casual walk."

Another hunter added, "They say no one who's fought him has ever survived. I heard he single-handedly took down a boss on the 55th floor. Now he's preparing to enter the 60th floor."

This news drew everyone's attention. Everyone was eager to watch Yoshida Isamu enter the tower. Those who saw him as a legend whispered his name in admiration. A figure like him was bound to draw attention.

Of course, no one knew what a bastard he really was.

As Yoshida Isamu drew the attention of the crowd, his physical presence alone posed a threat. Tall and burly, he immediately stood out from the other hunters. He was about 1.90 meters tall, and his broad shoulders and muscular physique showed that the heavy armor he wore didn’t burden him at all. His body resembled that of a soldier hardened by years on the battlefield; each step he took was firm and resolute, as if nothing in the world could stand against him.

His black hair fell messily across his forehead, but this disarray added to his charisma. His dark brown eyes were striking, but the first thing you noticed was their sharp, cold gaze. Those eyes seemed to look down on everyone, making them feel insignificant. There was always a hint of mockery on his face, as if he were teasing those around him. His jawline was pronounced, and a faint scar from a past wound marked the edge of his chin.

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His clothing and armor revealed just how experienced he was on the battlefield. The heavy armor in shades of black and red glinted slightly with each movement. The small scratches and dents on his armor were not marks of defeat but rather a testament to his countless victories. He carried a massive sword on his back; it was nearly half his height and intricately decorated at the hilt.

Despite his impressive appearance and accomplishments, he was actually a scoundrel.

For a moment, our eyes met among the crowd. As I noticed him heading toward my stall, my heart began to race. His sudden change of direction immediately drew the crowd’s attention. People were whispering, straining to understand where he was going.

“Yoshida Isamu is heading toward that stall…”

“Who is he looking at? Who’s at the stall?”

“Is he going to talk to someone? Who is it?”

Surrounding hunters and merchants tried to piece together what was happening through whispers. As their curious gazes focused on me, Yoshida’s steps approached my stall. When my eyes locked with his dark ones, I felt a shiver run through me. His familiar, mocking smile was present on his face.

“It’s really funny to see you in this wretched place again,” he said, his voice dripping with more than just disdain; it was delight. His eyes quickly shifted to the weapons on my stall. “Are you selling these? How pathetic... Though, a fatherless bastard like you deserves to be right here.”

His words were so sharp and toxic that, for a moment, I couldn’t think of a response. My lips involuntarily tightened. I gritted my teeth, but I couldn’t say anything to him. My arm muscles tensed, and as I made fists, I felt my nails dig into my palms, causing pain.

Yoshida's gaze roamed over me, and his sly smile widened. “Are you still living with your mother? Poor woman, does she still whisper your father's name in bed? I wonder if she thinks about how she raised a bastard like you every night?” he added, a mocking tone of pity in his voice. “Oh, of course... What else can a fatherless kid like you do?”

His words stabbed into me like a knife. I had squeezed my lips so tightly that I could feel them bleeding. My eyes slowly began to well up, but I would never show my weakness in front of Yoshida. My hands tightened even more, and a few drops of blood fell from my fists onto the stall. But the pain... it was nothing compared to the agony of his words.

Yoshida paused for a moment, as if to gauge the effect of what he’d said. His eyes, filled with the satisfaction of declaring victory, scanned me from head to toe.

“Wasting time with the likes of you is a loss,” he said coldly. “But seeing you like this entertains me. Say hi to your mother for me.”

As he turned away, his cold, mocking laughter echoed in my ears. The crowd silently watched the unfolding scene. I had not been able to react. It was as if a lock had been placed on my words. I tried to swallow, but my throat was tight. I attempted to wipe my bleeding lips, but my hands were still trembling.

As Yoshida’s words replayed in my mind, the helplessness of being unable to do anything against him consumed me. I hated myself for being such a weakling.

After Yoshida left, the crowd dispersed; no one else had heard what he said, so people thought he had simply stopped by an ordinary stall before entering the tower. This way, I managed to attract the attention of a few, but unfortunately, only the B-Rank Vampiric Sword remained, and since most of the people shopping at the tower entrance were low-level hunters, they either didn't want this sword or found it too expensive.

I was about to lose hope in selling the Vampiric Sword. I was about to start packing my things when a mysterious man dressed in black approached my stall. There was silence in his steps, yet every movement was controlled. I couldn’t miss the daggers hidden beneath his clothing. It was clear he was an assassin. He pointed at the Vampiric Sword.

"Are you selling this?" he asked in a calm, deep voice.

"Yes, I am," I replied, not blinking. "It's not easy to find a sword like this."

The man stepped closer to the sword, lightly touching it with his fingers, as if he could almost feel it. "It's rare to see such things around here. I usually don't check stalls, but when that bastard passed by, I couldn't help but take a look."

I understood he was talking about Yoshida, and I furrowed my brows, nodding my head. "I agree that he is a bastard."

The man narrowed his eyes and looked at me, a faint smile forming on his lips. "We share the same feelings; perhaps you could give me a discount then."

I rolled my eyes, slightly mocking. "Asking for a discount without even asking the price? You're a tough customer."

The man let out a short laugh, placing his hand on his hip. "I'm not tough, just smart. If this sword were a pair of daggers, I could offer you a good price."

I thought for a moment, carefully examining the Vampiric Sword with my hands. "A pair of daggers? It would take time to reforge this sword into daggers, but... I could do it."

The man's eyebrows lifted slightly. There was surprise in his eyes, but also interest. "Can you really do it? Did you make this sword?"

"Yes," I said confidently. "Did you think I just found such a sword?"

The man fell silent for a moment, scanning me from head to toe with his eyes. "I thought you were a hunter selling what they found. Seems I was mistaken."

I shook my head. "I wish I could find things like that easily; then I would be very rich. But unfortunately, I'm not a hunter... at least not the kind you know."

The smirk on the man's face grew. "Everyone has their secrets, don’t they?" he said, a hint of curiosity in his voice. He pulled a card from his pocket and placed it on the table. "This is my card. When you’re ready with the daggers, call this number, and I’ll come to pick them up."

As I took the card in my hand, I furrowed my brows. "But how can I trust you? Once I reforge it, I won’t be able to find such a piece again. I don't want to make daggers for you and end up keeping them."

The man silently pulled out a pouch from his pocket. He placed it gently on the counter with his fingertips. A few shining tower coins caught my eye. "Here’s 100 tower coins," he said calmly. "Let this be a welcome gift, independent of the price. I’ll pay the rest when I see the daggers."

For a moment, I looked at the pouch in my hand, then into the man’s eyes. His eyes were dark, but there was a calm confidence within them. "You’re generous," I said, still suspicious. "But why are you giving me this much money upfront?"

The man smiled and stepped back. "Trust. We both know what this is about."

The allure of the money was captivating, but my doubts had not vanished yet. Still, my instincts told me this man would keep his word.

"Agreed," I said, gripping the pouch.