New Eden: Live to Play, Play to Live

The man disregarded the snark comment, focusing only on the good news. He had landed a whale!

"Well, to establish a willing clientele, I would first need to sample your product. Anything would work as long as it offers a value nothing else can," he said with a giddy voice.

"Something like those crystals, which exude a strange attraction," he added, walking toward the plane again.

But Kary blocked his path.

"Crystals are off-limit," she said sternly.

Alex nodded in agreement.

"She's right. But I have something else which you could start with. But you can't have the crystals. They are worth more than this entire airport put together for us. Don't even think about them."

The smuggler almost drooled at the words, imagining himself swimming in riches after selling a crystal. But he couldn't push back against his new customer too firmly, at least for now.

"Then whatever you have to offer me will have to do, for now," he said, emphasizing the 'for now.'

He wanted them to know he was willing to wait for the crystals, but they were his primary goal. That way, there wouldn't be a misunderstanding in the long run.

Alex sighed, understanding his motivations.

He extended his hand toward the plane, reaching inside it with his senses, and finding the blade he'd used during the dungeon. As his senses found it and his mana reached the weapon, he willed it to his hand.

Using an old mana manipulation trick Aberon had taught him, Alexander levitated the blade from inside the cargo hold to his hand without breaking eye contact with the smuggler, grinning at his widening eyes.

The man couldn't believe his eyes as the sword flew from inside the aircraft, almost like it was being pulled into his client's hand by an invisible force.

"How did you…"

"Irrelevant," Alex interrupted his question.

"But…"

"It doesn't matter right now, Mr. Park. This is your product. A sword. It may look plain and maybe be a little dull after everything it cut through recently, but it's sharper than anything you'll ever find anywhere else," Alex explained, walking over to a metal table.

He swung the blade at the table, feeling no resistance as it passed through it, and watched with a grin as the pieces collapsed from his cut, the separation clean as if a laser had cut through it.

Of course, the mana he infused in the blade was a big reason the blade was this sharp, and it wouldn't be as sharp in someone else's hand, at least if they were devoid of mana.

But if he left some of his mana in the sword's pommel, which sported a monster core, it should retain this level of sharpness for a while.

'I hope you don't think I won't screw you over, Mr. Park. You come after my stuff; I'm not giving you the good shit,' Alexander mocked internally.

He pumped mana into the monster core, making sure it would hold for a dozen more swings, and then returned to the smuggler, who was still ogling the results of the sword swing.

"What in the name of all that is holy… How could a sword that looks so plain cut through a steel table?!" the smuggler asked in disbelief.

Alex chuckled at his bafflement.

"I told you it was sharp."

Mr. Park looked at the blade with unmasked greed.

"Can I… try it?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Alex grinned.

"Be my guest," he said, chucking the sword at him.

The smuggler panicked and dodged the blade, watching it fall next to him and sink into the concrete floor for a few inches, remaining upright.

"Are you crazy?! What if it had hit me?!" he barked, fear cracking his voice.

Alex laughed heartily at his fear.

"Relax, Mr. Park. I threw it to you pommel first. You could have caught it. You are the one who decided to step aside. It is perfectly safe for you to wield," Alex explained, pulling the sword out of the concrete.

He handed the pommel to the smuggler, holding the blade in his hands to show him it was safe. Of course, the sword was sharp enough to cut his skin, so he held it flat.

Mr. Park grabbed the sword handle with a shaky hand, lifting it from Alexander's hands.

It wobbled its way upright, and he chuckled nervously.

"It's heavy for such a small sword," he commented, looking at the blade in fear.

"It's weighed down by the lives it took. They were many," Alex commented, trying to make himself sound dramatic.

Kary had to contain her laughter at his erroneous words, but they worked on the already impressed smuggler.

He took the blade to a desk and gulped as he prepared himself mentally.

With a scared expression, he swung the blade down with the finesse of a newborn baby, his eyes closing as he did, and pushed down on it until it stopped.

When he opened his eyes again, he was looking at the ground, where the blade had embedded itself a foot into the concrete, past the desk that now lay separated in two pieces.

His eyes lit up with joy as he realized it wasn't a trick played on him by Alexander. The blade was truly sharp, as he claimed.

He turned his head to his new whale… ahem… client and grinned with greed.

"How much do you want for this weapon, Mr. Leduc? I will bend over backwards to ensure you get the price you ask for and even more!" he exclaimed, pulling the sword out of the concrete.

Alex grinned.

'Mission successful.'

"What do you think is a fair price for a weapon like this, Mr. Park? Something that can cut the strongest metals, and take out heavily armoured foes," Alex asked, trying to get a feel for the potential earnings.

The smuggler looked at the blade, then at the two cut pieces of metal furniture and the two slashes in the concrete, and did some rapid math.

"I don't think we can get too much since it stays a weapon with limited range and requires training to wield appropriately. But I can assure you at least five million," he said, his mood dampening a bit as he realized the weapon's limited clientele.

Alex almost choked on his saliva at the amount.

'Holy shit…'

"I think five million is a fair price, Mr. Park," Kary interjected, saving Alexander the trouble of answering with his stumbling mind.

"But you must know this. We know how to produce more like these; their production is a secret. If we see a similar product somewhere because you sold it to some scam artist that tries reproducing them, we'll know," she threatened.

"Of course! I wouldn't try to slight you like that!" the smuggler promised, eager to reassure them. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Then we have a deal."