Chapter 13: The First Sellout

It was already past four in the afternoon. Although some of the women in Hollowbriar Forest were still working outside, the Regional Channel was flooding with messages as people tried to kill time.

Sunset was two, maybe three hours away, and after the first few nights, most had already realized that an extra handful of materials wasn't worth scrambling through the trees alongside things that could tear you apart.

It was hardly surprising, then, that upon retreating to their Hearthholds and discovering what Serayne had been spending her gathered resources on, a good portion of the chat took her shopping spree as living proof that even the apocalypse couldn't cure some people of squandering their wealth.

Amid the mockery, a few lone voices suggested that the manuals might actually contain useful knowledge. For the moment, however, there was little sign that anyone debating the topic was willing to test that theory with their own hard-earned materials.

Serayne had zero complaints. The fewer people interested in books, the longer she could snap them up at prices that made even her modest stash look like a small fortune.

Finishing the bread she’d set aside, she scanned the scrolling messages, where debates over her mental stability were beginning to give way to the far more pressing issue of preparing dinner.

[Anyone got something to start a fire? I pulled instant noodles from a crate and I’d kill for an actual hot meal.]

[You have food and you're complaining?]

[Crush 'em, dump the seasoning packet in, shake the bag, and eat.]

[Too dry, I can barely swallow it.]

[Look at her, little princess over here.]

[Being picky in a survival scenario…]

[If it’s too dry, I can piss in it for you.]

[Duvra, don't volunteer, it'll end up too sweet. Let me help - at least the color will look like real broth.]

[Can you all shut the fuck up?! Some of us are trying to eat!]

Serayne glanced down at the last crust of bread pinched between her fingers, briefly wondering if she really had to subject herself to that particular corner of the conversation. But before she could close the channel, an entirely different kind of reply surfaced between the crude jokes.

[Ignore them. You're not far from me, right? I've already got a fire going - you can light a torch from mine. I worked myself to death getting friction fire to take, no reason for you to suffer through the same thing.]

[Seriously? Thank you, you just saved my dinner.]

[Don't mention it, it's just a bit of flame. We have to look out for each other out here.]

Serayne stared at the final message, swallowed her last bite, and rested her palm against the rim of the console, feeling a faint, uneasy twinge she couldn't quite put a name to.

Her own first instinct would have been to wonder what the stranger wanted in return, or whether the meeting would end in an ambush for her supplies. Still, just because she had lost the ability to approach strangers with open trust didn't mean she had to write off every act of kindness as pure stupidity.

Good to know that aside from the connoisseurs of piss soup, there are still a few normal people left.

The conversation had already drifted in another direction, however, and a new post made Serayne toss aside the empty bread wrapper and lean closer to the display.

[It's about to get dark. Remember what we agreed on yesterday? Tonight we keep watch, at least until midnight.]

[Got it.]

[I'll be watching.]

[Wait, what did you agree on? I got back so exhausted yesterday I passed out right away.]

[You didn't hear about the ghost?]

[About what, the fuck?]

[Someone saw a ghost moving through the trees last night. We're supposed to watch through our windows tonight to see if it shows up again and track where it goes.]

[Are you guys for real?]

[Just keep your eyes peeled, then we'll know for sure.]

Serayne straightened on instinct, her ears swiveling toward the window.

What ghost now?

I was out there in the dark last night and I didn't see anything like that.

She scrolled back through the chat immediately, hoping for a clearer description or at least a general location. But the oldest accessible posts dated back to around three in the morning, and the earlier discussion was nowhere to be found.

She didn't know whether the channel purged older posts on a schedule or simply maintained a strict message buffer, but the result was the same: she couldn't verify what had actually been spotted, only that a sizable group of arrivals was organizing a neighborhood stakeout.

Only moments ago, she had toyed with the idea of hunting for more crates after dark. The prospect of encountering something that could navigate the canopy just as effortlessly as she could, however, drained all appeal from the plan.

Height shielded her from whatever prowled the forest floor, but against an entity that drifted through the branches, that advantage evaporated. And Serayne had zero desire to find out whether a moonstone dagger could stab a ghost.

If it phases right through the blade and then through me, I probably won't have time to post in chat that the experiment was a failure.

Checking her herb stockpile in the pouch, she confirmed she had enough for another batch of potions. She shelved the foraging trip without much regret - she had plenty of work right here, and more than enough reasons to stay put in her nest.

First, she opened her market settings to configure automatic buy orders, allocating a portion of her remaining materials: five units per book and one per pack of test tubes. That way, she wouldn't have to break away from brewing every few minutes to scour new listings.

Next, she lined up fifty test tubes, stabilizing them so a stray bump wouldn't send them rolling, and reached for the jigger she'd purchased - relieved to abandon the guesswork of eyeballing measurements.

The brew had thoroughly cooled by now, allowing her to portion out each vial smoothly, ensuring roughly ten milliliters went into each tube before pressing the cork stopper in and transferring the finished potion to a storage crate.

Interestingly enough, Serayne realized that keeping everything within reach, minding the fragile tubes, and making sure not to spill sticky potion all over her lap required considerably more focus than such a mundane task suggested.

Meanwhile, the buy orders she’d posted sparked fresh life into the Regional Channel.

[The book girl set up automatic buy orders.]

[Which one?]

[Serayne Veyra, the one we were talking about earlier.]

[She's still buying?]

[Five units per book, and she's taking test tubes too, one unit a pack.]

[Five? I found some textbook today, dumping it on her right now.]

[Not much for the tubes, but I've got nothing else to do with them anyway.]

By the time Serayne stoppered the final vial and drifted back to the console, a few more snide remarks about her supposed squandering had joined the thread. This time, she barely noticed them. A neat row of finished potions interested her far more than the opinions of the people helping furnish her workshop.

She debated whether to start another batch immediately, since she hadn't seen comparable products on the market yet. On second thought, before committing to another eight hours of stirring, she decided it was best to see if anyone would actually buy the fruits of her first attempt.

Mana potions undoubtedly had utility, but her brew was weak and tasted vile.

First, sell what I've got.

She listed fifty vials on the exchange, setting the price of each at ten units of wood, stone, or vines. Then she pulled up the Regional Channel and waited, propping her chin in her hand.

The first reaction dropped barely ten seconds later.

[There are mana potions in Serayne Veyra’s stall.]

[What?]

[Kareva, since when are you a comedian?]

[I see them too, fifty vials.]

[Clouded Mana Draught, E−. Restores one Mana Point per second for ten seconds, price: ten units of materials.]

[Holy shit.]

[Wait, do those books actually teach you stuff?]

[I skimmed through a textbook too. Never saw the script before in my life. I can read the words, but when I look at a whole paragraph, I still have no clue what it's saying.]

Serayne chuckled under her breath, watching the idle mockery over her book habit suddenly pivot into serious bewilderment. But before she could savor the shift, someone posted a calculation that was hard to dispute:

[Hold on. Gathering costs twenty Mana Points and yields twenty units of materials. I’d need two potions for twenty units total just to get those points back, which gives me the exact same amount of materials I paid her. So I’m supposed to gather for free for her?]

Serayne didn't even shift in her seat. She’d run the numbers herself and knew that if someone chugged potions strictly to fuel more Gathering, the buyer wouldn't turn a profit on raw resources.

That didn't mean eight hours of backbreaking stirring, harvested herbs, firewood, cookware, and portioning suddenly had zero value just because someone didn't like the balance sheet.

If you expect me to babysit a cauldron all night just so you can turn an effortless profit, you've mistaken my storefront for a charity.

If someone didn't like the price, they didn't have to buy. Serayne wasn't pretending to sell an infinite resource glitch; the system description stated exactly what was in the tube.

Still, several outraged replies flooded the channel:

[Damn, she's right, it breaks even.]

[Total ripoff, didn't leave a single unit of margin.]

[She can drink it herself.]

[Wonder who's dumb enough to buy that.]

[Uh, guys? They're gone.]

Serayne jerked her head up from her hand and snapped over to her stall view. Where fifty vials had been listed, she found only empty slots and a flood of completed transaction logs.

She stared in stunned silence, then ran her finger down the sales log again, making sure she wasn't confusing a sellout with a glitch.

Every single vial had sold. And she had pulled in five hundred units of raw materials in seconds.

A wide grin spread across her face while the Regional Channel exploded into sheer pandemonium:

[What do you mean they're gone?! You said you weren't buying!]

[Fifty sold that fast?!]

[Did someone actually buy that shit?]

[I bought five. Tested one already and it works. Tastes like rust, though.]

Serayne glanced over at the cauldron on reflex, recalling the stubborn mineral crust and metallic odor her scrubbing hadn't completely eradicated. She ran her tongue over her teeth, tasting that exact same metallic tang.

Meanwhile, the buyer posted a follow-up:

[It might not be profitable for gathering, but when your mana zeroes out while running for your life from wolves, are you going to calculate profit margins or try to survive?]

[Exactly. I snagged two just in case.]

[Serayne Veyra, where are you?! Why only fifty?! Brew more, I have the materials!]

[Serayne Veyra, boss, you seeing this?! Add me to contacts!]