Chapter 55: This Shopkeeper's Complex Background

After school, Rod drove to a black market in the city.

The black market was a special place for gray-area transactions. More than 90% of the goods sold here were stolen or illegitimate, such as items looted in "zero-dollar purchases" by certain groups. These goods were often brought here to be sold at extremely low prices, typically at half or even a third of the regular retail price.

Purchasing from here wasn't risky in terms of scams or theft, since the sellers were usually local power players. Even if someone tried to rob you right after a purchase, there would be people to help you recover the stolen goods. Some shops even offered a pre-order service: customers could choose items they wanted, and professional looters would go out and "procure" them.

All in all, it was a pretty magical place. Even more amazing was that this place had existed for over a decade without being shut down by the authorities. It made you wonder if the higher-ups in this country were deliberately allowing this, perhaps to encourage conflicts between the lower and middle classes. By redirecting the grievances of the lower class onto the middle class, they could sacrifice some of the middle class's interests to appease the lower class.

In theory, as long as these two classes were in conflict, the upper class's power structure would remain stable. It was a simple but effective tactic.

The poor, struggling to survive, resorted to looting stores, while the stores took out insurance policies and were compensated by insurance companies. The insurance companies collected large premiums, ensuring a steady profit. On the surface, it seemed like no one was really losing out.

But when you thought about it carefully, it all seemed pretty ridiculous. In the past, crimes like robbery and theft were treated as serious offenses, with harsh penalties. At least there was some deterrent. But starting a few years ago, certain states gradually began legalizing "zero-dollar purchasing." California, for instance, declared that any theft under $950 would not result in prosecution. They also further stipulated that store owners and employees were forbidden from stopping thieves. If anyone was injured while trying to prevent a theft, the responsibility fell on the store owner or employee.

This led to a dramatic increase in the frequency of these "zero-dollar purchases." In just a few short years, many insurance companies and stores went bankrupt because of it. At this rate, Rod figured, it wouldn't be long before civil unrest erupted in the country.

But what did any of that have to do with him? Even if a world war broke out, it wouldn't affect him.

As he walked through the market, he saw all sorts of things—firearms, toxic baby formula, guys wearing thick gold chains and big watches gathered around to smoke, and even streetwalkers in bikinis soliciting clients. In dark corners, Rod saw two people, high on drugs, having sex in public, while a crowd stood nearby watching. Soon, the number of participants grew from two to five.

What a sight.

Rod quickly averted his eyes from the scene, especially after spotting a large woman. He felt like his eyes would burn if he kept watching.

After walking down the long street, Rod finally arrived at a shop called "Old Dad's Weapon Store."

As soon as he stepped inside, the bright lights almost blinded him. Under the lights, all kinds of weapons gleamed with a cold, sharp glow, reflecting light like mirrors.

"What do you need?" A middle-aged American man, shirtless, covered in body hair, and sweating, stepped out from the back, puffing on a cigar. He held a hammer in his hand, clearly having just finished working. He grabbed a beer from the table, downing it in a few gulps before finally looking at Rod standing by the door.

"I want to buy some weapons," Rod said, glancing around at the cold weapons in the shop, feeling like he'd come to the right place.

"Some?" The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow. He had sold weapons before, but most people bought one or two pieces as a hobby or for collection. Buying in bulk like this was rare.

"They're all here. Pick whatever you want. But my weapons are expensive. I hope you can afford them." The shopkeeper casually pointed at the weapons hanging on the walls.

Rod nodded and began browsing.

As he looked around, he started noticing that many of the weapons seemed strangely familiar.

A large sword with fiery red engravings and a charred, spiral design.

A grand sword with a demonic ram's head engraved on the hilt, with glowing eyes.

Two short, wide blades connected by a chain.

A beautifully crafted silver longsword.

"Greatsword of Artorias... Frostmourne... Chaos Blade... Silver Sword..."

"Yamato... Hidden Blade... Leviathan Axe... Rebellion... Buster Sword... Ebony and Ivory... Holy Whip..."

"Wow, he's got everything!" Rod smirked, completely surprised to realize that the shopkeeper was a gamer. All these weapons were iconic items from video games. He had to admit, the craftsmanship was impressive. The weapons were nearly perfect one-to-one replicas of the ones from games, and the quality was top-notch.

Rod even found a full set of knight armor and the legendary Eternal Shield in the back of the shop. For a moment, Rod looked at the shopkeeper with an even more complicated expression.

This shopkeeper was quite something.

"Don't look at me like that. It's all just to make a living," the shopkeeper said, shaking his head when he noticed Rod's expression.

His family had been blacksmiths for generations, and he loved the craft. But in this day and age, who was going to buy cold weapons? No matter how skilled you were, a sword couldn't stop a bullet. At best, a few collectors might come by and buy a weapon or two.

But a man still had to eat, right?

So, he had made a difficult decision—one that went against his family's traditions. He decided to innovate!

Since regular cold weapons weren't selling, he started crafting weapons modeled after iconic gear from games. He sold them at high prices to collectors and gaming enthusiasts.

It worked out pretty well. The shop's profits had increased tenfold, and he could barely keep up with the demand. It was just enough to make a living.