Aldric stared at the pile for a long second.
"…It still smells terrible."
The cultist calmly lowered her hand.
"This is everything."
Silence filled the reinforced appraisal room.
The merchant stood completely still as he stared at the mountain of corpses stacked before him. Troll bodies were piled on top of one another in a grotesque heap of gray flesh, broken limbs, dried blood, and lingering mana residue.
His mechanical eye flickered rapidly.
One of the nearby appraisal tables groaned beneath the pressure of a collapsing troll corpse before cracking down the middle with a sharp snap.
The merchant muttered quietly under his breath.
"…What the hell…"
Then suddenly—
Aldric appeared beside him.
No footsteps.
No warning.
Just there.
Smiling.
"Stay on your feet now."
The merchant visibly stiffened.
Aldric lazily pointed toward the corpse pile.
"They're only dead bodies."
The man slowly glanced sideways toward him.
Aldric was still smiling like an actual psychopath.
Then the grin faded slightly.
"…You're not about to pass out, right?"
A brief pause.
"Because that'd be troublesome."
The merchant swallowed once before forcibly straightening his posture.
"…I'm fine."
"Good."
Aldric patted him once on the shoulder.
"Professionalism."
The cultist already looked deeply exhausted.
Aldric turned back toward the mountain of corpses.
"So."
He spread one arm dramatically toward the pile.
"How much?"
The merchant stared at the bodies again while trying very hard to regain his mental stability.
"…There are over fifty troll corpses here alone…"
His mechanical eye scanned rapidly across the pile.
"…Several dire wolves…"
"…Goblin remains…"
Then he froze slightly.
His gaze locked onto one of the larger corpses buried deeper beneath the others.
Blue skin.
Massive frame.
Dense mana residue still clinging to the flesh even in death.
"…That's a blue troll."
Aldric nodded casually.
"Yeah."
A pause.
"There's also a troll king in there somewhere."
Silence.
The merchant slowly turned his head.
"…A troll king?"
His voice came out quieter this time.
"That's an A-rank monster."
Aldric folded his arms.
"Yeah, we know."
The merchant stared at him for another second.
Then back toward the corpse pile.
Then back at him again.
Aldric pointed directly toward the bodies.
"So stop staring dramatically and start calculating."
The merchant exhaled heavily through his nose before finally stepping forward toward the pile.
His mechanical eye brightened sharply as scanning arrays activated across the glowing lens.
Numbers and symbols flickered rapidly inside the device.
He carefully moved around the corpses while muttering under his breath.
"…Regenerative tissue intact…"
"…Bone density unusually high…"
"…Blue troll heart still preserved…"
"…How the hell…"
Several minutes passed.
Even the cultist remained silent while the merchant continued scanning through the mountain of corpses.
Then—
he stopped completely near the center of the pile.
His expression shifted.
"…Found it."
A massive corpse slowly became visible as he shoved several troll bodies aside.
Larger than the others.
Far larger.
Blackened gray skin covered in old scars and hardened growths.
One broken horn protruded from its skull.
Even in death—
the troll king still radiated a faint oppressive mana pressure throughout the room.
The merchant stared at it for several long seconds.
"…You people killed this?"
Draven's crimson eyes remained fixed on the troll king beneath the pile.
Then, calmly—
"You're not a very professional merchant."
Silence settled briefly across the reinforced room.
The merchant slowly looked toward the dark cloak.
Draven's voice remained even and emotionless.
"A professional knows not to ask questions they don't want answers to."
The room somehow became quieter after that.
Even the low humming of the containment formations felt distant.
The merchant held his gaze for another second—
then looked away first.
"…Fair enough."
Aldric immediately grinned beside him.
"Yeah."
He folded his arms lazily.
"Knowing too much in Blackwater usually ends badly for people. Isn't that right?"
A pause.
"So just do your job, dude."
The merchant exhaled slowly through his nose.
"…Understood."
For the first time since entering the room—
he stopped trying to figure them out.
Smart decision.
The cultist stepped slightly forward.
"So."
Her eyes moved toward the corpse pile.
"What's the total value?"
The merchant adjusted the settings on his mechanical eyepiece while looking back toward the bodies.
Scanning arrays flickered rapidly across the lens.
"…The ordinary trolls alone would already sell for a considerable amount."
He pointed toward one of the larger corpses.
"Regenerative organs intact."
"Bone marrow preserved."
"Minimal mana rot."
A brief pause.
"The blue troll increases the value significantly."
His gaze drifted toward the partially buried troll king.
"…And that thing changes everything."
Aldric leaned lazily against a reinforced table nearby.
"Good."
"Because dragging all this around was annoying."
"You didn't carry any of it," the cultist replied immediately.
Aldric proudly pointed toward himself.
"I carried emotional burden."
"That is not a real contribution."
"It is spiritually."
The merchant ignored them entirely and continued calculating.
Numbers flickered rapidly across the lens of his eyepiece while mana arrays scanned through the corpses one after another.
Several moments passed.
Then finally—
he stopped.
Silence settled briefly over the room.
"…Including processing value, alchemical resale, regeneration extraction, bone recovery, and black-market combat material demand…"
A pause.
"The total comes to—"
His eyepiece flickered once more.
Then stabilized.
"1,840 gold."
Silence.
Even the containment formations somehow seemed quieter afterward.
Nearby, a troll arm slowly slid off the corpse pile and hit the floor with a wet thud.
Nobody cared.
Aldric blinked once.
"…Wait."
He pointed toward the merchant.
"That's real? Are you sure?"
The merchant looked mildly offended.
"No. I fabricated a random number for entertainment."
"…Fair."
Aldric slowly turned toward the cultist.
Then toward Draven.
Then back toward the mountain of corpses.
"…We are officially rich."
The cultist calmly folded her arms.
"My lord was already rich."
Aldric pointed aggressively toward the pile.
"No."
He gestured dramatically toward the corpses.
"This is earned rich."
Before Aldric could continue spiraling, the merchant spoke again.
"Most of the value comes from the troll king."
He pointed toward the massive corpse.
"A-rank monster materials alone sell at military-level pricing."
Aldric stared at the troll king.
"…You ugly bastard."
A pause.
"Suddenly I respect you."
The cultist sighed quietly.
"You say that far too often."
The merchant finally turned back toward the cultist.
"Payment can be transferred directly."
"Credit."
"Or physical currency."
Aldric answered immediately.
"Physical."
The merchant looked at him flatly.
The cultist looked toward the merchant calmly.
"Transfer it."
The merchant nodded once before stepping toward one of the appraisal terminals embedded into the reinforced wall.
Runes activated across its surface.
"Provide the account."
Draven calmly pulled out the black card once more.
The merchant accepted it carefully.
The moment his fingers touched the card—
his expression noticeably tightened.
Professional caution immediately increased.
He walked toward the appraisal terminal while layered mana arrays activated across its surface.
Runes rotated slowly.
Transfer seals opened.
Aldric watched the process for several seconds.
Then suddenly pointed toward the merchant.
"…Hey."
The merchant glanced sideways.
"What?"
"Why the hell are you giving the money to him?"
The room went quiet for half a second.
The cultist answered before anyone else could.
"…Do you possess a credit card?"
Aldric opened his mouth.
Paused.
"…No."
The cultist folded her arms calmly.
"Then that answers your question."
Aldric pointed aggressively toward the appraisal terminal.
"That's why I said physical."
The cultist remained completely unmoved.
"I personally have no issue with the money remaining with my lord."
A pause.
"And I fail to see why you should."
Aldric stared at her in genuine disbelief.
"…What the hell do you mean you don't see why?"
He pointed toward the corpse pile behind them.
"That's my money too."
The cultist immediately corrected him.
"No."
She pointed toward the troll king corpse.
"That is my money."
Then calmly added—
"And technically, my lord contributed the most."
Aldric looked deeply offended.
"Like hell. I fought those damn things too."
"You also insulted several of them before trying to bite one."
"That worked."
"That is not the point."
Aldric stepped closer dramatically.
"I want my money to stay with me."
The cultist's expression never changed.
"I don't recall agreeing to hand you anything."
Silence.
Then—
Aldric pointed at her like a betrayed noble discovering treason.
"You damn rat."
The cultist sighed through her nose.
"There it is again."
Aldric immediately looked toward Draven.
"Hey, can you tell her she's being unreasonable?"
Draven stood silently beside the containment wall while the black cat rested beneath his hood.
No reaction.
No visible interest in the argument.
Meanwhile, the merchant quietly continued the transfer process while pretending very hard not to exist.
An excellent survival instinct.
Aldric kept going anyway.
"I carried emotional burden."
The cultist looked exhausted instantly.
"You carried alcohol."
"I carried leadership."
"Debatable."
The appraisal terminal suddenly flashed brightly.
Transfer Complete.
1,840 Gold Received.
The merchant immediately handed the black card back to Draven as though returning a dangerous artifact to its rightful owner.
"Transfer confirmed."
Draven calmly accepted the card and put it away without even checking the amount.
Aldric stared at him for two full seconds.
"…See?"
He pointed dramatically.
"That's rich person behavior."
The cultist folded her arms.
"No."
It's the behavior of only my lord.