Chapter 11 - 10: The Rich Here Are Very Rich

Meanwhile, Sev Steele walked into the trading hall, head bowed and a backpack slung over her shoulders.

It was autumn, the busiest season for the trading hall. A commoner from the Slums walking in wearing ordinary clothes and a small backpack like Sev Steele wouldn’t draw any attention. She scanned her surroundings, bypassing the trading windows to locate the self-service trading terminals. The original owner of her body had never used these terminals—partly out of unfamiliarity with the electronic interface, but mostly because she had never acquired any rare supplies worth selling here.

Sev Steele tapped the terminal’s screen. Utilizing its camera function, she first showcased her finished product. Then, she picked up a piece and popped it into her mouth, chewing it with a loud CRUNCH CRUNCH. Her expression wasn’t exaggerated in the slightest; the pure enjoyment the delicious food brought her was entirely genuine. Because it was so real, her smile was incredibly infectious.

She paired this with her sales pitch: "Honored guests, these are roasted wild yam strips glazed with my exclusive secret honey sauce.

"They are sweet, crispy, and boast an excellent texture. Quantities are highly limited, restricted to one five-hundred-gram portion per person.

"I will be waiting for you in Trading Room 6. Try it before you buy it. Come and have a taste, or you’ll regret missing out!"

Each trader was restricted to a one-minute video recording. After adding her voiceover, she quickly hit send.

In the Ninth Security Zone, residents of the Slums rarely used this trading platform. Consequently, the people viewing these listings were predominantly high-ranking officials and elites from the Gilded Ward. They had no shortage of money—certainly not enough to hesitate over a small culinary indulgence.

Sev Steele had priced her goods at 199 points per half-kilogram. If placed at the regular trading windows, such a price would be outrageous. On the self-service terminals, however, it wasn’t considered expensive at all.

There was another crucial reason why the poor refused to use the terminals. To post a listing, one had to first spend 10 points to rent a trading room. Unless their goods were sufficiently valuable, no one from the Slums could bear to waste money on such a luxury. But Sev Steele knew perfectly well that her items were inherently rare. Combined with her unique cooking method, spending a few points to push her product to wealthy clients was entirely worth it.

Sure enough, after waiting in Trading Room 6 for just half an hour, she received a visitor.

The newcomer was a gorgeously dressed young woman. She had a striking figure, vibrant and alluring facial features, and fiery red hair cascading in loose waves over her shoulders—the very picture of a mature, domineering beauty.

"Hello, honored guest! Would you like a taste first?" Sev Steele offered, getting straight to the point since she knew such elites wouldn’t want to waste time with someone from the Slums.

"You’re quite interesting," the woman replied, smiling and nodding. She had assumed this seller would eagerly seize the chance to grovel to a wealthy buyer. Unexpectedly, the girl remained poised and dignified, showing absolutely no intention of trying to curry favor.

The woman accepted the vacuum-sealed freshness bag Sev Steele handed her. Tearing open the seal, she pulled out a strip. First, she brought it to her nose for a sniff, and then she produced a metallic, needle-like device and pierced the food.

Soon, a robotic voice broadcasted, "BEEP! Food tested. Radiation level: 42. Has undergone high-temperature heating. No conventional toxins detected. Safe for consumption."

The detailed broadcast indicated that this testing device was clearly far more advanced than the Detection Knife Sev Steele used. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy, thinking that if she could own one, her future scavenging trips in the wilderness would be vastly more convenient.

Seeing the girl’s burning gaze, the female customer assumed she was eagerly anticipating her tasting it, so she pulled a second strip from the vacuum bag. Before placing it in her mouth, she specifically observed Sev Steele’s expression. Finding no hint of reluctance or stinginess on her face, the woman gained a newfound measure of respect for her.

An ordinary commoner from the Slums selling goods at such a premium would definitely be loath to give out free samples. Yet, not only had this girl offered a free taste, but she also watched without batting an eye as the woman took two pieces in succession. From beginning to end, she maintained a poised demeanor, completely lacking the usual servility commoners displayed when meeting someone of high status. This level of grace didn’t seem to belong to someone from the Slums; rather, it felt like the upbringing of a prominent, aristocratic family.

The woman finally popped the dried yam into her mouth. After chewing, she couldn’t help but praise it, "The taste is genuinely quite good." In truth, saying this was already suppressing her profound surprise. Given her status, it wouldn’t do to act as if she had never eaten anything delicious before.

"It’s a pity. If these were low-radiation, the price could easily be multiplied by ten," the woman sighed.

"Wild yams are extremely rare to come by. I’m already fortunate enough to have obtained some with moderate radiation," Sev Steele replied.

This was only the second sentence she had spoken since the customer walked in. She had already put all her boastful praises into the advertisement video; there was no need to spout unnecessary nonsense and risk annoying the buyer.

Seeing only contentment and no regret in her eyes, the woman realized this was someone who was easily contented and lacked bottomless greed. Her impression of the girl improved even further.

"By the way, your ad stated that purchases are limited to one portion per person. If I want to buy everything you have, is that possible?"

"I’m sorry, but I must keep my promises," Sev Steele said.

"What if others don’t fancy your goods and you end up not selling out? Wouldn’t you take a loss?" the woman pressed.

"That’s fine. I came prepared for the possibility that they might not sell. I plan to take whatever is left back home for my children to eat," Sev Steele said. Her attitude was perfectly composed, entirely devoid of any anxiety or dread about failing to make a sale.

"Alright then, I’ll buy one portion. Let’s exchange contact numbers. Whenever you have new stock in the future, there’s no need to advertise here—just contact me directly," the woman said, revealing her wrist.

Every resident of the wasteland possessed a watch, even young children. It was a biological chip implanted beneath their skin at birth. When inactive, it remained hidden. To use it, one simply had to press down with three fingers of the right hand for three seconds, and the watch’s virtual interface would pop up.

Suppressing her inner joy, Sev Steele graciously scanned the woman’s 3D contact code. This was the very first client she had cultivated. It seemed the remaining ten kilograms of dried wild yam back at her house would likely find a market now. If she found good things in the future, she could naturally pitch them to this woman first—provided she was lucky enough to encounter more precious supplies while scavenging.

After the 199 points were credited to her account, the female customer transferred an additional 50 points to her. "This is a tip for you. Your goods exceed their value."

"Thank you for your patronage!" Sev Steele thanked her sincerely and saw the woman off.

She opened her watch and saw the nickname displayed on her contact list: "Snowbreak". She thought the name was quite unique, the sort that immediately suggested a ruthless, decisive woman. While Sev Steele was secretly admiring the moniker, she welcomed her second buyer. Then came the third, the fourth...

Two hours later, she had sold out all ten portions. In addition to her rightful earnings, she had also accumulated an extra 1,288 points in tips.

On her way back, her steps felt light and floaty. Her initial success was thrilling, but more importantly, through this trading session, she discovered that the wealthy elites of the Ninth Security Zone were far richer than she had imagined.

So why was everyone in the Slums so horribly destitute, forever struggling on the poverty line, where even a full stomach was an unattainable luxury?