Chapter 51: Volatile Assets

  The interior of Lot 404 had ceased to be a quiet, abandoned forge. Over the last six hours, it had transformed into a deafening, sweltering industrial engine. The air was thick with the acrid smell of burnt ozone, the metallic tang of heated copper, and the heavy, humid exhaust of the cooling condensation coils.

  Yuta stood before the massive granite hearth, his face streaked with soot and sweat. The pristine white linen of his tunic was stained gray with carbon dust, and his leather gloves were scorched around the fingertips. He did not look like a hero. He looked like a mechanic operating on a machine that was actively trying to kill him.

  "Cycle forty-two," Yuta announced, his voice hoarse but unwavering. "Prepare the seal."

  Aiko gritted her teeth, stepping up to the obsidian crucible. Her avatar’s stamina bar was flashing a critical red, hovering dangerously close to absolute zero. Her arms felt like they were filled with molten lead. She had lifted the one-hundred-and-forty-pound obsidian lid forty-one times in rapid succession. She had held it steady while Yuta poured the volatile glands, and she had slammed it shut against the terrifying, explosive pressure of the reaction every single time.

  "I am ready," Aiko gasped, gripping the cold, black glass. "Just... don't blow us up, Professor."

  Yuta moved with terrifying speed. He dumped the measured scoop of purified carbon into the crucible. He poured the red thermal catalyst. He dropped the pair of Weaver Glands.

  "Seal!"

  Aiko threw her weight forward, slamming the heavy lid down.

  THUD.

  She locked her elbows, pressing her entire body weight onto the stone. The iron latches clicked into place a split second before the reaction ignited.

  BOOM.

  The sound was a dull, heavy concussion that vibrated through the soles of their boots. The obsidian box shuddered violently beneath Aiko’s hands, containing a kinetic force that would have leveled a standard building. The high-pitched whistle of the escaping vapor screamed into the copper pipes, followed immediately by the hissing roar of the steam as Yuta opened the thermal damper to flood the coils with freezing mountain air.

  They stood there in the cloud of white steam, waiting for the vibration to stop.

  "Stabilized," Yuta breathed, stepping back and wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. He walked over to the collection beaker at the end of the copper array. A steady, rhythmic dripping of absolute black liquid filled the glass.

  They repeated this process for another three hours.

  By the time the final pair of glands was processed, the digital sun outside was high in the sky, though inside the sealed fortress of Lot 404, time was measured only by the level of liquid in the storage vats.

  Aiko collapsed onto her wooden crate, letting her heavy iron club slide from her shoulder to the floor with a loud clang. She didn't have the energy to pick it up. She just sat there, staring blankly at the far wall, her chest heaving.

  "We are done," Aiko whispered, too tired to even celebrate. "Please tell me we are done."

  Yuta did not sit down. He walked over to the secure storage quadrant. On the heavy wooden workbench, lined up in neat, military precision, were one hundred and twelve small, wax-sealed glass vials.

  Each vial contained exactly half an ounce of the Nocturne Draught.

  The liquid inside them was not inert. Even through the dark glass, the substance seemed to pull at the ambient light of the room, creating small, distorted halos of shadow around the corks. It was a terrifying amount of power sitting on a dusty table.

  "Inventory count confirmed," Yuta stated, picking up one of the vials and holding it up to the dim light of the exhaust shaft. "One hundred and twelve units of Rank C stealth capability. Total production cost: four gold coins, eighty-five silver. Estimated market value: undetermined, but theoretically limitless."

  He placed the vial back in the row, then turned to face Aiko.

  "You have performed adequately, assistant," Yuta said. It was the closest he ever came to a compliment. "Rest your avatar. I must now engage in the economic phase of the operation."

  Aiko watched as Yuta opened his systemic interface. She expected him to immediately list all one hundred and twelve vials on the auction house. She expected a flood of gold coins to rain down on them within the hour.

  Instead, Yuta selected exactly three vials.

  He placed the other one hundred and nine vials into the heavy iron lockbox, bolted the door shut, and turned the key.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Aiko sat up straight, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten.

  "Wait," Aiko said, frowning. "What are you doing? Why are you locking them away? We made them to sell them."

  "We manufactured them to control the market," Yuta corrected her, walking back to the center of the room. "If I release one hundred and twelve units of a high-tier stealth potion into the Riverwood economy simultaneously, the supply will instantly outstrip the demand. The novelty will wear off. The price will plummet as players undercut one another to secure a quick sale. We will turn a legendary asset into a common commodity."

  He held up the three vials in his hand.

  "Scarcity is the primary driver of value," Yuta explained, his voice cold and analytical. "By releasing only three units, we create a vacuum. The players will not see a warehouse full of potions; they will see a rare, impossible miracle that only a select few can possess. They will fight for it. They will bid against their own allies to secure it. And once the price establishes a new, exorbitant baseline... only then do we release the next batch."

  Aiko stared at him. It was devious. It was manipulative. It was brilliant.

  "You are evil, Yuta," Aiko laughed softly, shaking her head. "You are actually evil."

  "I am efficient," Yuta replied, dismissing the moral judgment. "I am initiating the remote auction protocol. Listing duration: six hours. This specific timeframe ensures the auction will conclude during the regional server's peak activity window, maximizing the potential bidder pool. Starting bid: fifty silver coins. Buyout price: none."

  He tapped the air, interacting with the invisible interface. The three vials vanished from his hand, teleported directly into the secure escrow vaults of the global auction house.

  "The bait is in the water," Yuta said, sitting down on the cold stone floor opposite Aiko. "Now, we wait for the sharks."

  The reaction was not immediate.

  Riverwood was a beginner zone. The majority of the player base was concerned with buying wolf pelts, repairing copper swords, and forming parties for the local dungeons. They did not typically browse the high-tier "Alchemical Consumables" tab of the auction house.

  For the first hour, nothing happened. Yuta sat in silence, reviewing his internal spreadsheets, while Aiko cleaned the soot off her armor.

  Then, a ping echoed in the quiet room.

  Yuta opened his eyes. He swiped his hand, expanding the auction interface so Aiko could see it.

  [Bid Received: Nocturne Draught (Unit 1)]

  [Current Bid: 55 Silver Coins]

  [Bidder: Anonymous]

  "Someone found it," Aiko whispered, leaning forward. "Fifty-five silver. That covers the cost of the carbon."

  "Patience," Yuta murmured. "The algorithm has just flagged the item as 'New and Rare'. The major merchant guilds employ automated search bots to scan for Rank C items in low-level zones. The notification is currently propagating."

  Ten minutes later, the interface pinged again. Then again.

  [Bid Received: Nocturne Draught (Unit 1)]

  [Current Bid: 70 Silver Coins]

  [Bid Received: Nocturne Draught (Unit 2)]

  [Current Bid: 65 Silver Coins]

  "It is starting," Yuta noted.

  Suddenly, the global chat channel of the region—which usually scrolled slowly with requests for party members—began to accelerate.

  [Player xX_Slayer_Xx]: Anyone see the Auction House? What is a Nocturne Draught?

  [Player Merchant_King]: Rank C stealth in Riverwood? Fake listing?

  [Player ShadowWalker]: It’s real. I just checked the stats. Complete visual refraction. Who is selling this?

  The chatter exploded. Players were not just linking the item in the chat; the high-level veterans were instantly analyzing the tactical implications.

  [Player IronWall_Tank]: Visual refraction? Does that drop aggro?

  [Player Rogue_Leader]: Forget aggro. A Level 15 could use this to bypass the Elite guards at the Obsidian Citadel and loot the supply chests without triggering combat. The exploit potential is massive.

  [Player Merchant_King]: I am securing these. Do not bid against the Guild.

  The bids began to jump, no longer in increments of five silver, but in massive, aggressive leaps as the realization of the item's true utility set in.

  [Bid Update: Nocturne Draught (Unit 1)]

  [Current Bid: 1 Gold, 10 Silver]

  Aiko gasped. "One gold? For one potion? Yuta, that’s... that’s insane."

  "It is the psychological threshold," Yuta analyzed calmly. "They have realized that the item allows them to bypass content entirely. The potential return on investment for the buyer justifies the cost. They are not buying a potion; they are buying access."

  The bidding war intensified. The three vials were no longer just items; they were strategic assets. The names of the bidders began to repeat—well-known guild officers and wealthy merchant characters fighting for dominance.

  As the six-hour timer ticked down to its final minutes, the atmosphere in the forge was electric. Aiko was pacing back and forth, unable to sit still. Yuta remained perfectly motionless, his eyes tracking the data stream.

  [Auction Concluded]

  [Unit 1 Sold: 2 Gold, 45 Silver]

  [Unit 2 Sold: 2 Gold, 30 Silver]

  [Unit 3 Sold: 2 Gold, 80 Silver]

  [Total Net Revenue (After Tax): 6 Gold, 4 Silver]

  The notification hung in the air, glowing with a soft, golden light.

  In six hours, with only three vials, they had completely recouped their entire initial investment of the lab construction and the raw materials, and generated a pure profit of almost two gold coins.

  And they still had one hundred and nine vials sitting in the locker.

  Aiko stared at the numbers. She did the math in her head. If they sold the rest at this price...

  "Two hundred gold," Aiko whispered, her voice trembling. "Yuta... we are going to have over two hundred gold coins."

  Yuta stood up, dismissing the interface. He walked over to the hearth and kicked a small pile of ash into the grate.

  "Do not project linear earnings based on a volatility spike," Yuta corrected her, though his voice lacked its usual harshness. "The price will stabilize. Competitors will eventually emerge. But for now... yes. We have successfully captured the market."

  He turned to her.

  "We have liquidity again," Yuta stated. "Secure your equipment, assistant. We are no longer factory workers. We are now the primary financiers of the High Peaks region."

  Aiko grabbed her club, a wild, ecstatic energy coursing through her. She felt invincible. Not because she was Level 12, but because she finally understood the game Yuta was playing.

  "So what do we buy first?" Aiko asked, grinning. "Better swords? A castle? A dragon?"

  Yuta walked to the door, unbolting the heavy iron lock.

  "We buy information," Yuta replied, pushing the doors open to the night. "And perhaps... a decent meal. The stamina regeneration of dried bread is statistically insufficient for our new tax bracket."