Chapter 86: Chapter 90: The Antique Shop’s First Big Deal
As I expected, Duncan had anticipated Maurice’s reaction; he broached the subject simply to confirm his suspicions.
Just as the intelligence he had previously gathered indicated, ordinary people like Maurice were completely unaware of the great fire—that fire existed only in Nina’s and his own memory.
To be precise, before he took over this body, that fire had been confined to Nina’s memory alone.
The topic shifted quickly, and Maurice did not harbor any suspicions about the odd subject. He then proceeded to introduce Nina’s academic and class situations to Duncan and inquired about her family circumstances.
It was evident that this caring teacher had long wanted to delve into these matters, but the abysmal, degenerate lifestyle of Nina’s uncle had postponed this conversation until today.
The memories Duncan inherited from the body were limited, and he was unclear about many of the teacher’s questions. Fortunately, his nimble thinking and robust imagination helped him manage the past, while for those issues he couldn’t handle… he blamed it on the previous life’s decadence, harm caused by alcohol, vowing to reform going forward…
Having experienced numerous “home visits,” he was well-acquainted with the typical questions and focal points of teachers, even though he now found himself in a different world and a different identity, some of that experience still proved useful.
Once the “serious matters” were finally discussed, it was not surprising that Mr. Maurice’s attention turned to his second point of interest.
The old gentleman’s gaze landed on the well-preserved antique dagger on the counter, his eagerness unmistakable, “Is this item… for sale?”
Duncan immediately smiled, “This is an antique store.”
Of course, the antiques displayed in an antique store were for sale.
He had come to realize that, although the dagger came from Homeloss, selling it seemed to pose no risk—Homeloss had many items, and not all were connected to the Transcendent. Such a dagger, placed elsewhere, was merely a regular antique… what harm was there in selling it?
Compared to the slew of fakes in the store, Homeloss’s stock was a veritable gold mine!
Once his thoughts were in order, Duncan felt a sense of liberation, suddenly recognizing that he had always been sitting on a treasure trove—the junk he regarded as trivial was merely wealth misplaced, awaiting wealthy, destined patrons. Take Mr. Maurice here… wasn’t he a person of destiny?
Maurice, however, was oblivious to the thoughts swirling in the head of the antique store owner as his attention was wholly devoted to the well-preserved dagger before him. After much hesitation, he cautiously asked, “How much?”
Duncan hesitated…
The answer was not so clear, for even with the complete memories of this body, he didn’t know how to price it—since the day this store opened, it had never sold a genuine item… Furthermore, there was no standardized pricing for antiques; he was utterly out of his depth. What would be an appropriate price to call out at this moment?
Duncan quickly mulled it over, eliminating the option of setting a price in the range of 200,000 to 300,000 as seen on the store tags—even though the dagger was real and in excellent condition, it was only a little over a century old. Additionally, based on Mr. Maurice’s earlier revelations, such a dagger from a century ago, although not abundantly available, was not unique. The sailors of that era had used it as a utility knife… this inevitably limited its value.
Not ancient and not unique, lacking a special historical background, a modern item of great condition but ordinary collectible and aesthetic value. Mr. Maurice seemed very fond of it, which might slightly raise the price, but there was a limit to how much—after all, he was still Nina’s teacher, and that relationship had to be considered.
After musing for a brief moment, which took no more than a few seconds, Duncan finally shook his head, smiling, “You make an offer—Mr. Maurice, you are Nina’s most respected teacher, and I really can’t set a price as I would with ordinary customers.”
He was acutely aware of his limited knowledge, and setting a credible price seemed harder than keeping a goat silent for three days. Setting it too high or too low would reveal his incompetence, so he might as well provide an opportunity for Mr. Maurice to help judge the value.
He believed Mr. Maurice might guess his intention.
As for whether he would lose out on this transaction… Duncan was rather open-minded.
It was a transaction cost him nothing to acquire, so how could he lose—gaining an unexpected revenue in this unprepared situation, while also accumulating some experience and meeting a professional in the historical field, was indeed quite a win.
Maurice pondered seriously.
He wasn’t overthinking; most of his attention was fixated on the dagger.
“Three thousand… three thousand four hundred solars, that’s my estimate,” Maurice finally spoke. He seemed to have carefully considered the figure, “Mr. Duncan, you might find this price a bit low, but considering the era of the dagger and its historical positioning… such non-unique collectibles significantly depreciate in the market. Of course, its condition is excellent, which is rare, but we must also consider not every collector will be interested…”
The elderly gentleman seemed to be struggling to explain the reasons for his pricing, while Duncan listened but his mind was already rapidly calculating—
In the Lower City District, the entire monthly expenses for an average family of three only amounted to a little over two hundred solars—and most civilians in the Lower City District barely broke even each month, if they managed to save at all.
This dagger was almost equivalent to a year and a half’s income for an ordinary household in the Lower City District.
That was the value of a “real deal” here, and it wasn’t even that expensive of a “real deal.”
He didn’t know whether to marvel at the antique trade’s saying, “Open for three years, closed for three years,” or to lament about the staggering gap between the ordinary life in the Lower City District and the so-called “refined hobbies” of the upper classes.
Perhaps he should marvel at just how wealthy this old gentleman was.
“Deal,” he exhaled softly, smiling at the old man.
He didn’t consider haggling to be a waste of effort.
After all, this was a large sum of money for both Nina and him at the moment—far more than what they would get for reporting a heretics’ nest.
He had been contemplating ways to make money not long ago, yet now it seemed less urgent.
Life is unpredictable.
However, Maurice felt Duncan agreed too eagerly, which made him feel a bit apologetic, “Actually… you’re at a loss at this price. Normally, considering the number of these daggers left and their condition, it should be at least ten to twenty percent more expensive… but…”
The old man touched his nose, seemingly a bit embarrassed, “I’ve recently spent quite a lot on collecting antiques, and I’m a bit short on…”
The old gentleman was more honest than Duncan had expected.
“I think this is a very good price. Let’s consider the difference as ‘fate’,” Duncan said with a smile, and then as if he suddenly remembered something, he got up and walked behind the counter, “Oh, to celebrate this ‘big business’, I have a little something extra for you.”
Maurice looked curious and expectant, only to see Duncan pull out a small amethyst pendant from a compartment behind the counter.
The old man was sharp-eyed and noticed right away that the tag from some glass workshop was still on the pendant.
Maurice: “…”
“This pendant has the effect of calming the mind and warding off evil spirits. The crystal has been blessed and can guide one through illusions and curses. Ancient hypnotists used it to protect their minds from the dangers lurking in the Dreamscape,” Duncan pushed the pendant forward, his expression serious, “It has protected generation after generation… Now it’s your destiny…”
Maurice hesitated and pointed at the tag on the pendant, “But it says ‘John’s Glassworks’ on here…”
“I know, forgot to take it off,” Duncan unceremoniously removed the tag, “This is just a free gift. How many genuine articles do you think I have to give away in my shop?”
Maurice paused, then laughed, “Well, that’s true—thank you very much for your ‘gift.’ Hopefully, it will make my daughter nag me less.”
As he spoke, he accepted the pendant, then fumbled in his pocket for a while, pulling out a checkbook, “I didn’t bring so much cash with me—this check can be cashed at the Plunder City-State bank in either the Cross District or the Upper City District, does that work for you?”
Duncan smiled, “Of course.”
As he said this, his gaze fell on Maurice’s check.
He had had some doubts when Nina first mentioned her history teacher, and today, having actually met Mr. Maurice, his doubts resurfaced.
Whether from his dress, his daily conduct, or his professional knowledge in history and antiques, this gentleman clearly wasn’t ordinary—even without knowing the situation in the Upper City District, Duncan could tell that such a scholar belonged in a university there, not in a public school in the Cross District.
Even disregarding other factors, there was an obvious question:
Could an ordinary public school history teacher really so easily part with a year and a half’s income from the Lower City District for a collectible he took a fancy to?