The Merchants who had been doing business near Weed could only look on in envy at the sight of his goods selling like hotcakes.
“Please wait just one moment, sir.”
Weed tidily used his sword sharpening skill and armor cleaning skill to make the exteriors all glossy and smooth.
“These are souvenirs that will draw luck to their owners! This isn’t a chance that comes day in and day out. These goods will not be sold after I run out of stock today.”
He was selling off items that would never, ever be used as equipment. The leg bone of a Skeleton sold for a whopping 1 Gold!
With the emptied backpacks on his back, Yellowy stealthily left. Then he entered a secluded alley in Morata Square for a secret rendezvous.
His face covered by a robe, a sly man was waiting in the alley.
“You must be Yellowy. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Moooooooo!
“Here are the goods. Please tell Weed the profit will be divided exactly 6 to 4.”
Yellowy understood and nodded. Then his empty backpacks were filled to the brim with japtem.
The man waiting in the alleyway. His identity was Mapan.
“We can’t miss the opportunity to sell off japtem at high prices.”
The strategy was to disguise even normal japtem as souvenirs in order to sell and earn more!
Weed even inscribed his name into the bones with his carving knife.
Be happy. Weed.
I wish you happy hunting. Weed.
Remember the fierce battle against the Lord of the Undead; Balkan Demoph, Weed.
To be honest, he hadn’t even fought against Balkan. He had only taken the barbarians to subdue a small portion that had broken off from the vast group of Undead!
* * *
Topics about the Wargod Weed were posted on Royal Road’s forum.
There were a few people showing him respect for having solved the quests on the Continent of Magic. However, there were more people reporting his wrongdoings.
– He killed me for asking how much he bought his equipment for!
– He killed me for cutting in front of him in line at a store.
– At least there was a reason why the two of you were killed. I was killed for being in a dungeon that he was going to hunt in.
– He killed me for yawning.
– He killed me just for being a man.
– I died twelve times. In town, in the square, in the hunting ground, no matter where we met. Later, feeling wronged, I asked him why and he told me it was because he didn’t like my name.
– What was your name?
– ShittyIdiotWeed.
– You deserved to be killed.
An enormous amount of Weed’s misdeeds emerged.