SSS Awakening: I Can Create Skills By Will-Chapter 56: The Price of Nerve

The shop came into view, its interior dimmer than the hall, lit by soft crystal lamps. The merchant stood behind the counter, counting yen with careful fingers.

Arthur stepped inside and didn’t hesitate.

"Good morning," he said calmly.

The merchant looked up, eyes sharp but curious. Arthur didn’t rush. He met the man’s gaze openly, shoulders relaxed, posture easy. Not submissive. Not aggressive.

"I won’t waste your time," Arthur continued. "I’m heading into a reclamation dungeon run today, and I need a storage device. Small to mid-tier. Reliable."

The merchant raised a brow. "And you have the funds?"

Arthur smiled, just slightly.

"Not yet."

The air shifted.

"I want it on credit," Arthur said smoothly. "Short term. I’ll pay back the full price with five percent interest."

The merchant froze.

For a heartbeat, the shop was silent.

Then the merchant let out a short, incredulous laugh. "On credit?"

Arthur didn’t flinch.

"I’ll make it worth your while," he added, voice steady, eyes unwavering.

The merchant stared at him, shock plain on his face, as the weight of the proposal settled in.

Arthur didn’t move after making his offer.

He didn’t rush to explain himself, didn’t soften his words, and didn’t try to sweeten the air with empty smiles. He simply stood there and let the silence stretch, his posture straight and steady, his gaze locked on the merchant as if the terms had already been agreed on and this pause was nothing more than a formality.

It was deliberate.

People who backed down too fast were easy to read. People who talked too much were easy to corner. Arthur did neither.

The merchant studied him carefully now.

Not as a customer, but as a risk.

Arthur could tell the moment the man realized he was serious. The slight narrowing of his eyes. The way his fingers stopped tapping the counter. This wasn’t some reckless explorer throwing words around because he didn’t know better. This was someone who had walked into the shop knowing exactly what he wanted.

And that changed things.

The merchant straightened and leaned forward just a little, locking eyes with Arthur. The atmosphere shifted, like two blades meeting edge to edge. Anyone passing by would have felt it without understanding why. It was just a stare down, yet the tension was thick enough to taste.

Arthur held his ground.

He had played this game before, long before mana, long before dungeons. Back then, the stakes had been blood and territory, and people who blinked first didn’t live long enough to regret it.

Finally, the merchant broke eye contact.

A short smirk tugged at his lips as a new calculation formed behind his eyes.

"Credit isn’t cheap," he said lightly. "Twenty percent interest."

Arthur didn’t react right away. He tilted his head slightly, as if considering the number, then shook it once.

"Six percent," he said.

The merchant stiffened.

That wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

Arthur saw it clearly. The merchant had expected him to flinch, maybe to argue, maybe to beg or meet him halfway. Instead, Arthur had raised the stakes in a different direction by barely moving at all.

The merchant let out a sharp breath, almost a laugh, though there was no humor in it. "You’re bold," he said. "I’ll give you that."

Arthur shrugged. "I’m straightforward."

That earned him a long look.

The merchant had dealt with hundreds of explorers. Most of them were straightforward to the point of being predictable. They fought monsters, brought materials, and spent their earnings without thinking too far ahead. This one was different, and that bothered him more than he liked.

He tried again, this time softer.

"Fifteen percent," the merchant said, lowering his voice. "You’re asking me to trust you with my goods. If you fail, I lose more than yen. I lose time. Reputation. That costs."

It was a good tactic. Reasonable. Appealing to shared risk.

Arthur didn’t bite.

He crossed his arms and leaned back slightly, just enough to show he wasn’t pressed. "You sell storage devices to explorers who walk into dungeons every day," he said calmly. "Risk is already part of your business. I’m just paying for it properly."

The merchant frowned.

Arthur continued before the man could interrupt. "Six percent is fair. I’m not asking for charity. I’m offering profit and a guaranteed return. Short term."

There it was. Confidence without arrogance. Control without aggression.

The merchant felt it, and it annoyed him.

He tried once more, pushing a different angle. "Ten percent," he said firmly. "That’s me meeting you more than halfway."

Arthur watched him closely.

He saw the impatience now, the subtle signs of wanting to close the deal. The merchant still thought Arthur would fold. He was wrong.

Arthur stepped forward and extended his hand.

"Seven percent," he said. "Final."

The merchant froze.

For a second, his expression twisted between disbelief and irritation. He had expected negotiation, compromise, maybe even reluctance. He hadn’t expected this young explorer to take control of the closing moment.

A vein throbbed briefly at the merchant’s temple before he forced himself to relax. He stared at Arthur’s outstretched hand, then back at his face.

"...You’re infuriating," he muttered.

Arthur smiled faintly. "So I’ve been told."

The merchant sighed and shook his hand. "Seven percent."

Arthur’s grip was firm, confident, and brief. No unnecessary pressure. No showmanship.

Deal sealed.

The merchant turned away with a huff and reached beneath the counter, retrieving a storage device. It was simple in appearance, a compact core etched with clean runes and designed to be worn. Nothing flashy, but well made.

"Fifty yen," the merchant said. "That’s the price. Still interested?"

Arthur didn’t hesitate. "Yes."

The merchant paused, studying him again, then slowly nodded. "Figures."

He didn’t pass the device over immediately. Instead, he looked at Arthur meaningfully, tapping the counter once.

Arthur understood.

Without a word, he reached into his armor and pulled out his bronze explorer badge. He slid it across the counter smoothly.

The merchant took it, weighed it in his hand, and nodded in satisfaction. An explorer’s badge wasn’t just identification. It was status, access, and proof of registration. Losing it was a nightmare.

But It was more than enough collateral.