Kays Translations
Just another Isekai Lover~
Chapter 30: The Sale Begins
“Today’s alchemy class ends here. In just a month’s time, the final exams will be upon us, so I urge you all to make the most of this limited time. Study hard and strive for good results.”
Professor Harrington set down the chalk in his hand as he stood before the podium. He gestured toward the blackboard behind him and added, “The points written on the board are key knowledge. Make sure you memorize them all.”
“Oh, and one more thing—don’t forget about combat class.”
With that, the alchemy lesson concluded. Merlin quickly gathered his notes and hurried out of the classroom with Fitt and Kris at his side.
The moment they stepped into the courtyard of the teaching building, they spotted Jean, who had clearly been waiting for Merlin.
“Boss, I’ve brought the goods,” Jean announced as he pushed forward a small cart. The cart had been custom-made on Merlin’s prior instructions.
Merlin placed his hand on the iron lid covering the top of the cart. The lingering warmth seeped into his palm. He gave a satisfied nod. “Good. In that case, let’s start selling right here.”
It was the perfect spot. Students were just leaving class, and word had already spread among the alchemy department that lotus-leaf beggar’s chicken was on sale. One after another, they trotted eagerly behind Merlin.
Kris and Fitt stood loyally at Merlin’s side, both unable to contain their anticipation. The flavor of the lotus-leaf beggar’s chicken was unforgettable, and they had been craving it ever since their first taste.
Merlin lifted the cart’s lid, pulled out two mud-coated bundles, and handed them over. “Here you go. The lotus-leaf beggar’s chicken I promised you. Take it aside and enjoy.”
Kris and Fitt, being Merlin’s closest friends, of course weren’t charged. Others, however, would have to pay dearly—Merlin had no intention of sparing them like tender shoots of chives waiting to be harvested.
The two friends obediently scampered to the grass nearby. They cracked the hardened clay apart, unwrapped the lotus leaves, and revealed the golden, steaming chicken within.
The rich, unique aroma wafted across the courtyard, immediately drawing the stares of curious students.
Kris frowned as she studied her portion. “Wait a second—why does this chicken look so small? Where’s the head? The neck? The feet? The legs?”
Fitt also looked puzzled. A chicken without its head, neck, or limbs? He lifted his gaze to Merlin.
Without the slightest change in expression, Merlin replied smoothly, “That’s what makes it authentic. The head, neck, feet, and legs don’t absorb flavor well—the taste would be inferior. To make the best lotus-leaf beggar’s chicken, some parts must be sacrificed.”
Kris pouted unhappily as she tore into the chicken with her slender fingers. “Hmph, I don’t mind those parts. I think it would’ve tasted the same. With less meat, how are we supposed to eat our fill…”
Fitt nodded in agreement. He was tempted to complain, but since he hadn’t paid, he let it go.
“Merlin, Merlin! You’re finally selling lotus-leaf beggar’s chicken! Give me one, quick!”
A round figure came stumbling toward them, huffing and puffing until he reached the stall.
“It’s you, half-elf,” Fitt said as he shook the stripped bones in his hand, recognizing Dahl.
“This is the real thing,” Fitt added enthusiastically. “Better seasoned than last time, too—it’s addicting. Hurry up and buy one!”
“Merlin, how much for one portion?”
Jean, listening nearby, raised a brow. Well now—asking straightaway in gold coins? That implied the beggar’s chicken was already being valued at that level.
Of course it was gold coins. Merlin wasn’t running a charity. His beggar’s chicken used secret recipes and a hefty dose of spices—hardly something to sell cheap. Selling it cheaply would be a loss.
True, the marinade could be reused a few times—the taste wouldn’t change much, and it certainly wouldn’t kill anyone.
Merlin had already decided on the price. “One lotus-leaf beggar’s chicken is just five gold coins. How about it—fair enough?”
“Five gold coins?” Jean was stunned. He’s selling it at ten times the usual price?
But of course, you couldn’t calculate it so simply. The spices, the craft, even the cost of hiring freshmen from the Beast Taming Academy to slaughter chickens and gather lotus leaves—all of it added up.
Five gold coins was practically generous.
“So cheap? Not expensive at all!” Dahl had expected to pay at least ten gold coins. At only five, the price seemed almost too kind—for someone of wealth like him.
Fitt, acting like a planted shill, shouted dramatically, “No way! Merlin, only five gold coins for something this delicious? That’s a steal! Aren’t you going to lose money?”
Merlin almost gave him a thumbs-up. “What can I say? We’re classmates. How could I bring myself to charge you too much?”
Hah! Little did they know, five coins meant at least four coins of pure profit. His margins were through the roof.
“Then give me three—no, five! Five chickens!” Dahl whipped out a purple card that shimmered like jade and handed it to Merlin.
Merlin recognized it instantly. A magic crystal card—used for storing gold coins.
These cards were alchemical creations launched by the Federal Bank of Aize, the largest bank on the continent. With branches spread across every frontier, the bank was jointly founded by the empires, elves, arcane academies, and even beastfolk. Backed by the strongest powers of the land, no one dared harbor ill intentions against such a giant.
Though born of cooperation, under the witness of the gods, the Federal Bank stood as a permanently neutral entity, never favoring any single nation, race, or faction.
Magic crystal cards worked much like bank cards. Each one stored gold coins and allowed face-to-face transfers between users. Long-distance transfers, however, were impossible.
They were unregistered by name, though a transaction password could be inscribed when purchased. For a transfer, both parties needed to input their own passwords.
Still, their security was not absolute. Skilled alchemists could crack the codes of lower-level cards and siphon the gold away.
For that reason, people usually kept them close at hand. Lose it, and the bank would not care—they’d simply charge you for a new one.
Merlin himself owned a card, though he seldom used it. And truth be told, it barely had any money inside.