Becoming an Evil God and Stealing His Wife - Chapter 15

The flashlight was easily located on a middle shelf, but the price tag was far from cheap.

The technological development of this world was remarkably lopsided, severed by a massive chasm between the wealthy and the destitute. In the central districts, citizens took electricity for granted. Out here in the slums of the city outskirts, families like Li Jiu’s lived under archaic conditions; the sole lighting fixture in his entire residence was a primitive tungsten bulb that had degraded so badly it emitted only a pathetic, amber glimmer.

Even then, they rarely turned it on, relying almost exclusively on cheap wax candles to stave off the dark.

Transportation in Wangdong City reflected the same economic segregation: rickshaws, horse-drawn carriages, electric trams, and sleek automobiles shared the avenues, each strictly occupied by a specific socioeconomic class.

A high-powered flashlight was a luxury item entirely detached from Li Jiu’s current income tier. Yet, knowing it could mean the difference between life and death in a blackout encounter with a Lice Parasite, he grit his teeth and added it to his stash.

Gathering his items, Li Jiu stepped up to the wooden counter. Placing the provisions down, he asked, “Boss, are those few options on the floor the only dolls you have in stock? Do you happen to have anything a bit more visually appealing hidden away?”

The buzzcut store owner looked up, revealing a severe countenance dominated by a jagged white scar running directly through his brow bone.

Li Jiu paused slightly, shifting his footing.

A split second later, the owner flashed a warm, remarkably genial grin. The terrifying, thuggish aura vanished instantly, replaced by a welcoming hospitality. Sorting through Li Jiu’s items, he replied:

“Those dolls are all I’ve got out on display, kid. Let’s be real, hardly any parents in District 3 have the spare coin to buy toys for their kids. The only reason I keep those on hand is to maintain my reputation for running the most well-stocked general store on Xiaozhuang Street.”

Li Jiu smiled. “Fair enough. Do you happen to know any other vendors who might carry them?”

“I’m afraid you’re out of luck,” the owner stated, shaking his head. “No one on this side of the city bothers stocking toys. You’d have to head into the central districts to find a real market for them, but everything across those borders is wildly overpriced. Is it a gift for someone at home?”

“My younger sister,” Li Jiu answered. “I wanted to bring her something nice.”

“Hold on a second,” the owner muttered, tilting his head back as his eyes scanned the ceiling in recollection. “Now that you mention it, I think I actually took in a beautifully crafted doll a while back. Let me dig around.”

He stooped down behind the counter, rummaging through heavy crates and shifting inventory. After a lengthy search, he straightened up, clutching a small, pristine cloth pouch. Opening the drawstring, he extracted an exceptionally delicate, hand-stitched doll.

Standing roughly ten centimeters tall, it was fashioned in the likeness of a young girl. Two intricately braided golden yarn pigtails rested neatly against its shoulders, presenting a clean, charming appearance.

Li Jiu was thoroughly satisfied. “This works beautifully. How much are you asking for it?”

The owner hesitated for a moment. “For this one… how about fifteen credits?”

“Fifteen credits isn’t exactly a bargain, Boss,” Li Jiu countered.

With a monthly wage of 1,500 credits 800 of which was immediately swallowed by Li Mengmeng’s specialized medication he was left with a mere 700 credits for general subsistence. Averaged out, his daily operational budget was roughly twenty-three credits.

Given his massively increased caloric intake over the last forty-eight hours, fifteen credits was a significant expenditure. If spent on gray taro potatoes, that sum could sustain a grown person for ten entire days.

The owner pulled the doll completely free of the pouch. “Feel the material for yourself, kid. The textiles are top-tier, the hand feel is incredibly smooth, and the stitching is immaculate. I’m genuinely not highballing you.”

“Besides, this piece was brought in by a local creator looking to sell it on consignment. I put it on display initially, but nobody in this neighborhood could afford it. I stored it away so it wouldn’t get ruined by dust and completely forgot about it. If you want it, take it for fifteen. Every single credit goes straight back to the seller and believe me, they have a tough time making ends meet.”

The owner held the yarn doll out across the counter.

As he pulled it free, however, Li Jiu’s gaze was immediately arrested by a secondary object slipping out from the bottom of the cloth pouch.

It was a palm-sized trinket shaped like a tiny octopus. It featured numerous black fabric tentacles curling outward in erratic, chaotic directions. It wasn’t conventionally attractive or pristine, and its construction was remarkably rudimentary yet it possessed a bizarre, subtle cuteness that ordinary onlookers would likely miss.

A sudden, powerful wave of déjà vu struck Li Jiu’s mind. He felt an inexplicable familiarity, as if he had perceived this exact silhouette somewhere before.

Tracking his line of sight, the owner picked up the fabric octopus and held it out alongside the doll. “This belongs to the same consignment creator. Tell you what if you purchase the golden-haired doll at full price, I’ll throw this little oddity in for free.”

Li Jiu accepted the tiny octopus, testing its texture. It felt remarkably plush, malleable, and surprisingly warm to the touch.

As if guided by an irrational impulse, the words left his lips before he could second-guess himself:

“Deal.”

He extended his free hand, tapping his index finger against the sheathed boning knife. “What about this blade? What’s the damage?”

The owner’s eyes drifted to the weapon, freezing slightly as his expression shifted. “This knife… I’m surprised you managed to exhume it from that corner.”

A distinct sense of foreboding flared in Li Jiu’s chest.

Predictably, the owner sighed. “This particular implement is going to cost you.”

“Name the price.”

The craftsmanship was undeniably superb, and it felt perfectly weighted to his grip, but if the cost was astronomical, he would be forced to abandon it and select a conventional kitchen cleaver, regardless of his attachment.

The owner stared at him intently for several seconds. “Are you genuinely committed to buying it?”

Li Jiu hesitated for a fraction of a second, then gave a firm nod.

The owner narrowed his eyes into thin slits. “Draw the steel from the scabbard. Pull it all the way out.”

Suspicious of the strange request, Li Jiu complied.

The moment the pristine, snow-white blade was exposed to the air, the owner’s eyes instantly swelled with a sudden rush of tears. The second the tip cleared the mouth of the sheath, the burly man let out a strained, watery gasp, waving his hands frantically. “Put it back! Put it back right now!”

Li Jiu smoothly slammed the steel back into its housing, eyeing the vendor with deep skepticism. “Boss, you aren’t seriously trying to weaponize fake tears just to drive up the retail value, are you?”

“…” The owner’s eyes were bloodshot, heavy tears streaming unrestrictedly down his scarred cheeks. “Does your vision not burn right now?”

Li Jiu blinked, completely bewildered. He partially drew the blade again to look at the metal. “Not even a little bit. Why would it?”

“Ahhh!” the owner yelled, flinching away. “Sheathe the damn thing!”

Startled by the sudden outburst, Li Jiu quickly snapped the knife shut. “What is going on with this blade?”

The burly merchant leaned heavily against the counter, his eyes turning a deeper shade of crimson as the tears flowed faster. A massive, imposing man with a facial scar was currently weeping like a terrified toddler.

“It’s nothing,” the owner choked out, wiping his face.

“If anyone else tried to purchase this implement, the baseline price is ten thousand credits. For you…” The owner cast a long, calculating look over Li Jiu’s worn canvas bag and modest clothes. “One hundred credits.”

Li Jiu opened his mouth to object. The display of tears felt entirely like an elaborate psychological marketing tactic designed to inflate the value of a common kitchen tool. One hundred credits for a single knife was an exorbitant sum for a laborer.

Before he could speak, the owner barked, “I’m explicitly cutting you a massive break because you’re clearly broke! I physically cannot drop the price a single credit lower!”

Li Jiu pondered the offer for a moment.

The owner maintained an expression of fierce irritation, looking at him as if he were an uncultured idiot who couldn’t recognize a legendary artifact when it was handed to him.

Li Jiu internally admitted defeat; the owner’s bizarre performance had successfully convinced him that this blade possessed anomalous properties. Letting out a quiet sigh, he relented. “Fine. Can you at least throw in a sharpening stone?”

“This particular steel will likely never require a whetstone,” the owner replied, his voice returning to a gruff pitch as his tears slowly abated. “And if the day ever comes where the edge actually dulls, a conventional sharpening stone won’t be able to scratch the surface. I don’t even stock anything capable of honing that edge.”

He leaned in closer, his tone turning dead serious. “You don’t look like a trained swordsman or a knife fighter, kid. When you deploy this implement, exercise extreme caution. The edge is dangerously keen; if you slip, it’s going to carve through bone before you even realize you’ve cut yourself.”

Li Jiu leveled a flat stare at him. “You really just don’t want to give me a free sharpening stone, do you?”

“…” The owner scoffed, turning away.

Li Jiu tucked the sheathed weapon into his canvas bag. “Thanks for the advice, regardless.”

With his inventory secured, Li Jiu handed over his currency. His available capital plummeted instantly, leaving his wallet painfully light.

Feeling a sharp twinge of financial regret, he gathered the large parcels. Because he had purchased several heavy sets of winter garments alongside the hardware, the packages were bulky and unwieldy. As he turned on his heel to exit the establishment, his shoulder accidentally brushed against someone standing directly to his right.

Li Jiu froze.

He had no idea when this individual had entered the shop. The stranger had materialized beside him without producing a single footstep, an intake of breath, or a rustle of fabric remaining so utterly silent that Li Jiu’s enhanced perception hadn’t picked up a single variable.

Quickly adjusting the heavy bags to clear their path, Li Jiu turned slightly and offered a polite nod. “My apologies. Did I crowd your space?”