Chapter 13: Liquidating Assets

Chapter 13: Chapter 13: Liquidating Assets

Enduring the rhythmic throb in his forearm with every stride, Eric pushed through the tall grassland toward the dimensional exit.

Stepping through the shimmering violet rift, the brisk wilderness air was instantly replaced by the sterile hum and recycled air of the Association outpost. He didn’t waste a second lingering in the bustling concourse; clutching his dangling left arm tight against his ribs, he turned down the corridor toward the auxiliary medical bay attached to the facility.

The municipal physician made quick work of the injury. For a fee of three hundred credits, the medic applied a cold, numbing analgesic paste over the swelling, set the fractured bone with a sharp, professional *clack*, and bound the limb in a reinforced composite splint and sling.

With his left arm securely immobilized, Eric made his way to the material liquidation hall, where hunters lined up to cash in their daily hauls.

Before stepping out of the grassland rift, he had used the cover of the tall brush to store both the Riftspawn and the Fleshcrawler carcasses directly into his system inventory.

"Next in line," a clerk in a heavy rubber apron droned from behind a reinforced steel counter.

"Excuse me, I’m here to sell some carcasses," Eric said, stepping up to the partition.

"Sure thing. Drop them onto the weigh platform to your left and we’ll evaluate the tissue condition."

Eric focused his intent inward, willing the two dead monsters out from his soul-bound subspace. With a faint shimmer of spatial distortion, the heavy carcasses materialized atop the steel scale with a dull thud. Around him, neither the clerk nor the surrounding hunters batted an eye, they simply assumed the young tamer was using an entry-level spatial ring.

The appraiser prodded the chitin plates with a pair of long tongs and inspected the harvested chest cavities.

"Clean extraction on the core cavities," the clerk noted, typing rapidly into his console. "Carapace integrity is intact. I can offer 2,000 credits for the pair, 500 for the F-rank Riftspawn, 1,500 for the E-rank Fleshcrawler. Both are early-stage specimens, so the payout reflects standard municipal scrap rates."

"Works for me."

Taking the small stack of paper bills, Eric exited the Association building into the afternoon heat. Carrying thick wads of physical cash was practically an invitation for street gangs in the lower wards. Without a personal terminal to manage high-volume transfers and scan payment codes, handling major sums would be an unnecessary liability.

He stopped at a nearby electronics shop and purchased an entry-level, ruggedized smartphone for fifteen hundred credits. It was bulky and lacked the sleek holographic displays of flagship models, but it carried a certified banking microchip and an Association-linked scanner.

Stepping back onto the sidewalk, Eric pulled out his remaining physical notes and let out a dry, quiet chuckle.

*Risks my life against an E-rank monster, shatters an arm, and after medical fees and a burner phone, I’m down to exactly two hundred credits in cash.*

He slid the phone into his coat. *Time to see what the real haul is worth.*

Eric navigated the winding cobblestone avenues until he reached the alchemy quarter. The air grew dense with the pungent scent of distilled monster blood, sulfur, and crushed mountain herbs. He bypassed the large commercial chains and picked a mid-sized independent apothecary called *Verdant Elixirs*, pushing through the frosted glass door as a small brass bell chimed overhead.

A middle-aged shopkeeper sat behind the counter, leaning over a handwritten ledger.

"Good afternoon," Eric greeted, keeping his posture relaxed despite the sling. "Are you taking bulk alchemical stock today?"

"We buy, we buy," the man grumbled without looking up, rubbing tired eyes. "What did you bring in? Low-grade insect repellent? Common beast-lure oil?"

"I have High-Tier Mortal Grade Healing Potions."

The shopkeeper froze mid-motion. His head snapped upward, his eyes scanning Eric’s faded hoodie, composite sling, and scuffed boots with intense skepticism.

"High-Tier Healing Potions?!" the man blurted out. "Are you out of your mind, kid? Did you raid a frontline supply convoy?"

"No," Eric answered smoothly, maintaining a flat, unbothered expression. "My master brewed them in his private workshop to test a refined stabilization formula."

The alchemist squinted, professional suspicion warring with genuine mercantile greed. "Let me inspect a sample. If it’s diluted swamp water, you’re paying for my lost time."

Eric reached into his pocket, quietly retrieving a vial from his inventory and placed a slender glass flask onto the velvet counter mat.

Inside the vial, a vibrant, crystalline ruby liquid swirled with gentle luminescence, radiating a faint, soothing warmth that filled the shop with the sweet aroma of wild mountain honey.

The shopkeeper’s demeanor shifted instantly. He carefully pulled the wax stopper, wafted the vapor toward his nose, and used a glass dropper to place a single bead of liquid onto a specialized litmus crystal.

*FLASH.*

The testing crystal flared with a pure, blinding crimson radiance.

"Purity... ninety-eight percent," the alchemist whispered, his hands steadying the glass with extreme care. "The medicinal matrix is completely stabilized. Minimal alchemical residue. I can give you 32,000 credits for the vial."

Eric narrowed his eyes, adopting a firm, measured stance. "Can we do 40,000?"

"Out of the question!" the shopkeeper waved his hands frantically. "Forty thousand is the retail price during an active beast surge! I need a margin to clear customs and taxes. The absolute ceiling I can offer you is 35,000 credits."

"Deal."

Without another word, Eric reached into his coat and produced nine more identical crimson vials, setting them down in a neat, glowing row across the velvet mat.

The shopkeeper’s breath caught in his throat. He stared at the ten glowing flasks as if he had just uncovered an imperial vault.

"Ten vials..." the man swallowed hard, pulling his register terminal forward with trembling hands. "Bring up your banking code."

Eric unlocked his new phone, brought up his Association account profile, and held the QR matrix over the terminal’s optical lens.

*BEEP.*

[TRANSACTION NOTIFICATION]

Account Credited: +350,000 Credits

Sender: Verdant Elixirs Apothecary

Current Available Balance: 350,000 Credits

Looking down at the six-figure digital balance illuminating the screen, Eric felt a massive weight lift from his shoulders.

*Three hundred and fifty thousand credits.*

A cold, satisfied grin touched the edge of his mouth as he tucked the phone into his jacket and stepped out into the afternoon sunlight.

*More than halfway to clearing Vane’s six-hundred-thousand-credit debt on Day 1, with twenty-nine days left on the clock.*