Chapter 104 Fifteen Silver Coins

Words : 1012 Updated : Sep 17th, 2025

"We've got usual cargo to send to a village in the south. And before you start theorizing, it's way off the path merchants usually take, so yes, it is profitable, and no, I'm not dealing with shady shit." Ali Baba leaned forward, hands clasped together. "Now that I've alleviated your worries, let's talk about something you're more interested in. Coin. You're a strong fighter, true? A Magi. It shows." Malik shrugged. "I get by." Ali Baba grinned. "Modesty is rare in your kind. I like it." He tilted his head slightly. "So, what do you think your services are worth?" Malik knew the game, or at least believed that he did. Whoever named a number first would set a precedent for the rest of the negotiation, and if the one who did that had accidentally lowballed it, they'd be nearly guaranteed to get the short end of the stick. So instead, he shrugged again. Stay connected through My Virtual Library Empire "You tell me." Ali Baba's smile widened just a little—like a Holy Relic Inspector who had just found out the fool in front of him didn't know the price of what he was selling. "Well... we pay our guards well. Base rate—200 silver for the trip." He watched Malik carefully, reading every twitch, every flicker of expression, which wasn't much at all. "But of course, price depends on circumstance. Skill, reputation, the dangers ahead." Malik had kept his face neutral. "Sounds fair." "Of course, it's not just about fighting. A guard must be reliable, disciplined, trustworthy. And we don't know you yet." Ali Baba gestured vaguely. "A man's first job is always a test." Malik raised a brow. "You're saying I need to prove myself?" Ali Baba spread his hands. "Not at all! I believe in giving chances. But coin is given in confidence, and confidence is earned." He drummed his fingers on the table. "So let's say... 205 silver." Malik's frown returned. That was barely above the base rate. "That all?" Ali Baba chuckled. "My friend, do not think small. 200 is for those who follow orders and swing swords. 205 is for those who might be worth more—eventually." Malik exhaled through his nose. "I'd say 220. I'm a Saif; I deserve that much at least." Ali Baba tsked, shaking his head like a disappointed teacher. "Ah, you wound me. I have many mouths to feed, and coin does not flow like a river." He lifted a finger. "210."@@@@ Malik gave him a blank look. "215." Ali Baba sighed, rubbing his chin as if the decision weighed heavily on him, and then... "215, it is." He grinned. Malik immediately picked up on what just happened. 'I just got played, didn't I?' He did believe that the base rate was truly two hundred; it wouldn't be smart for Ali Baba to lie about that, but still, fifteen more for these circumstances felt like a bit of a scam. This was about experiencing pain, dying, and clawing his way back for what? A few more meals? A slightly better bed at the inn? Maybe a sharper dagger? It wasn't worth it. Malik would spend money on armor in the future, and that was certainly expensive—real protection cost real coin. A reinforced chest plate, properly fitted? That was at least ten gold. Good vambraces, gauntlets, greaves? Another five. A whole custom set could cost as much as a damned house. Holy Relics were another matter entirely. And yet, even knowing all that, fifteen coins, again, were just... too little. Not even close to enough to justify the madness of dying for it. So... that was what made the murmurs change. "That's just—" "Greedy." "No, that's more than greedy. It's..." They struggled to put it into words. One of them just shook their head. "I guess it's what one hundred thousand deaths do to you." With that, they turned to Layla. The crowd couldn't see her, but that didn't mean they wouldn't try their luck to see if they could sneak a peek. Even without looking at her though, they all knew what she was going through. "It's okay... it's okay..." Safira patted Layla's back as she continued to cry. It was obvious to her and those around her that those tears didn't fall for the same reasons as before. Her expression—her eyes—was not grief alone. It was anger. And she wasn't looking at her father anymore. She was looking at Malik. "Ah..." And as the past continued playing, as he sat once more across from her father... "So that's how he figured us out." Layla still remembered it like it was yesterday. How this stranger had walked into her father's tent and read him like an open book. How he had gotten more coin than anyone else in the caravan. And she had hated it. Hated how easy it was for him. Hated how he had used his death, his suffering for greed. How dare he? How dare he throw his life away for scraps? How dare he think of himself as worth less than fifteen fucking silver? Silver that in the end he didn't even get! The Layla in the past hadn't known. Hadn't understood. But the Layla in the present did. And she loathed it. *** {Inside The Projection} Malik's eyes snapped open. He was back in the tent. The scent of incense clung to the air, the cushions beneath him felt just as plush, and across from him, Ali Baba sat, his fingers steepled, that same calculating glint in his eyes. Layla stood nearby, looking like she was ready to jump in if things got heated. '...I got lucky for once.' Malik exhaled slowly. A slow grin spread across his face. Then, just as fast, it disappeared. 'Let's see how much I can get out of these lot.'

Chapter 104 Fifteen Silver Coins

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