Arceus placed another pile of gold coins onto the counter without hesitation. The soft clink of metal against wood echoed inside the shop.
"Miss Kiara," Arceus added with a bright smile, "I am going to promote your store within our circle. When your weapons become popular, remember this favor. Whenever something new arrives, you should give me priority."
Kiara blinked, stunned for a heartbeat, before nodding rapidly. In truth, she briefly regretted not announcing a larger batch.
Within minutes, four hundred gold coins had changed hands.
Yet the system quietly calculated only forty gold coins as profit for the revolvers and one hundred bullets. The rest was temporarily considered personal holdings until delivery, reminding her that production costs would be deducted upon completion.
Three days passed swiftly.
*
On the morning of the third day, Kiara woke late in the afternoon after another restless sleep fueled by anticipation. She descended the stairs to find Zion already standing in his usual place.
The store was immaculate, polished to perfection.
"Good morning, Big Sister," Zion greeted calmly.
"Morning," Kiara replied, taking her seat.
She instructed him not to open the store for customers yet and immediately summoned the system interface.
"Seven hundred sixty-two remaining," she muttered after reviewing her inventory.
Then she began.
[9mm bullet created. Check your inventory.]
[9mm bullet created.]
The notifications stacked endlessly in her vision as she worked relentlessly. For nearly an hour, she produced bullets without pause, ignoring the repetitive alerts.
By the time she stopped, three hundred bullets remained in her inventory as reserve. The rest were distributed neatly into five wooden boxes. Ten revolvers, each loaded with six bullets, were packed into separate cases, consuming nearly all available storage containers in the shop.
Fortunately, a furniture shop down the street provided bulk orders. Kiara had even commissioned a subtle engraving design on future boxes to establish brand identity.
Today, however, presentation mattered more than branding.
Since she would be visiting a noble residence, Kiara selected her best linen garments. They were modest compared to the robes worn by aristocrats, yet clean and tailored neatly.
Zion wore similar attire.
Kiara was secretly grateful that this world did not obsess over brand names. Social judgment rested mainly on fabric type and craftsmanship.
Silk for nobles.
Linen and wool for the middle class.
Cotton for the poor.
They hired a decent carriage for thirty silver coins for the entire day, coachman included.
Their destination was the Brighton District, where many wealthy families resided. Security there was visibly tighter, with soldiers stationed at various entrances to restrict random movement.
When their carriage approached, it was stopped briefly, but the presence of a hired carriage allowed passage without excessive questioning.
After half an hour of travel, the carriage halted before an imposing gate guarded by five soldiers.
The coachman dismounted and relayed their purpose.
The captain ordered Kiara and Zion to step down, clearly assuming they were employees delivering goods on behalf of one of the major weapon stores.
Kiara anticipated such treatment.
She descended calmly, a courteous smile fixed upon her face.
The soldiers paused momentarily at the sight of her.
Her refined appearance clashed with her ordinary linen attire. One soldier, his skin tanned and scarred from years of battle, studied her carefully.
"She looks like a young master," he muttered internally before dismissing the thought upon noticing her clothing.
Then Zion stepped down behind her.
The captain's expression tightened subtly.
Envy flickered into hostility.
"State your identities," he demanded harshly.
"I am Kiara," she replied evenly. "Owner of Nexus Weapon Store. Please inform Young Lord Arceus Silver that we have arrived to deliver the remaining weapons."
"Nexus?" The guards exchanged confused glances.
"Never heard of it," the captain said flatly. "Since you are not from the three major stores, we will inspect the weapons first."
Kiara's smile remained fixed.
"I am afraid that only the customer may inspect our products," she responded politely. "If you inform Young Lord..."
The captain abruptly drew his sword and pointed it toward her chest.
"Woman… we know your types very well… You use whatever excuses to enter the mansion grounds and then use your beauty to charm our Lord to climb into the noble circle. I will not allow women like you to approach the young lord or any of the noblemen of House Silver. Open the boxes now and prove your statement or leave..."
Before Kiara could reply, Zion stepped forward.
His hand closed around the captain's blade's edge.
The metal stopped instantly.
Kiara's expression then suddenly shifted from courteous warmth to icy calm.
Despite being born in two entirely different worlds, Kiara and the original Kiara shared one unpleasantly consistent trait.
They both despised people who attempted to suppress others by flaunting authority.
After inheriting Kiara's memories along with this body, that resentment only deepened. It ranked second only to the bitterness reserved for the royal family that had abandoned her for being born without ether energy.
She had come today for Arceus Silver, her most valuable customer, whose purchases contained like 90% of her income so far. The delivery involved four hundred gold coins' worth of goods, and she had been prepared to endure a little arrogance for the sake of business.
But the moment the guard captain pointed a sword at her chest, something inside her snapped.
The courteous smile vanished.
Her expression hardened into cold indifference, a stark contrast to the merchant warmth she had worn moments before.
"Zion," she said evenly, her voice stripped of pleasantry. "I do not like that blade."
Zion tightened his grip in the next moment.
*Crack*
The metallic fracture rang sharply through the air.
The captain instinctively yanked backward, but only half of his silver-grade sword returned with him. The remaining half remained in Zion's bare hand.
Shock rippled across the soldiers' faces. The coachman retreated hurriedly behind Kiara, trembling.
"You… What have you done?" the captain roared, face flushing red. "That is a silver-grade sword! Do you know its value?"
Ether energy surged around him as he prepared to retaliate. "I will not let you leave here alive!"
"Zion," Kiara continued calmly, stepping back a single pace. "I do not like him. Destroy that mouth of his."
Then she paused, recalling Zion's true nature.
"Just don't kill him."
The command required no repetition.
Zion vanished forward in a blur and drove his fist directly into the captain's face.
Bone crunched.