"I'd really like to know more about the ancient epochs too," Audrey said softly.
The temptation was obvious on her face. Trading with the Fool for historical knowledge sounded incredibly appealing.
But she hesitated.
She had spent heavily in recent weeks and still needed to prepare materials for her next advancement. With her inheritance not yet fully under her control, she reluctantly set the idea aside.
For now, every pound needed to go toward becoming stronger.
Across the table, Derrick Berg felt the same pull.
He desperately wanted to understand what had happened to his homeland. Why the omniscient creator his people once worshipped had abandoned them. Why the City of Silver was trapped in endless despair.
But he forced the thought down.
Without power, answers meant nothing.
After Miles Reed finished reading the six pages Alger had provided, the meeting moved into open exchange.
That was when Rowan Mercer spoke.
"I currently possess several advanced cores and fragments," he said calmly. "Including those corresponding to a mind healer, an interrogator, a nightmare wielder, a wind-blessed combatant, a gatekeeper, a light priest, and a black knight.
"I also have complete formula sets for three major paths, from the earliest stage up through the threshold of godhood.
"In addition, I hold the full sequence of formulas for the path associated with the Hanged Man."
Silence fell.
Audrey, Alger, and Derrick all froze.
They knew Rowan was powerful.
They had assumed he was well-resourced.
None of them had imagined this.
Any one of those items could trigger bloodshed among secret organizations.
Taken together, they represented a fortune beyond comprehension.
Audrey's heart began to race.
She was already planning for her next step, and the path beyond that would require a mind healer core.
Alger felt the same.
He had long needed a wind-aligned fragment to continue his own progression.
Derrick was nearly trembling.
With those formulas, the City of Silver would never again be blocked by missing knowledge.
Rowan continued, unhurried.
"You may trade using money or intelligence on cult leaders, preferably ones operating in Backlund.
"I will also accept verified records from the Fourth Epoch, information about powerful sealed artifacts, or locations tied to hostile deities.
"If you don't have enough right now, you may purchase on credit and repay later.
"And Roselle's diary pages are also acceptable. As before, Mr. Fool will handle payment on my side."
The three stared at him.
Credit.
Loans.
No interest.
Payment through future intelligence.
This was absurd.
Alger, ever cautious, spoke first.
"Isn't that… disadvantageous to you?"
Rowan shrugged.
"A little."
Then he smiled.
"But I don't mind.
"Mr. Fool is here as witness. I'm not worried about being cheated.
"And if any of you die before repaying, I won't lose sleep over it.
"You're members of the Tarot Club. That means something. I'm willing to invest early and collect later."
The words landed heavily.
Audrey felt her chest tighten.
So did Alger.
So did Derrick.
At that moment, Rowan's standing in their hearts rose to just below that of the Fool himself.
Not merely powerful.
Not merely wealthy.
But terrifyingly broad-minded.
Each of them silently vowed to grow stronger as quickly as possible.
Not only for themselves.
But to one day repay this debt.
After finalizing their individual exchanges, their figures faded from above the gray fog.
Only Rowan and Miles remained.
Rowan accepted the diary pages from Miles and skimmed them.
The notes recorded fragments of Fourth Epoch history.
Nothing earth-shattering.
But useful.
"Didn't Audrey mention she's evaluating two potential candidates?" Rowan said. "Once she's satisfied, bring them in. The Tarot Club is still too small."
Miles nodded.
Rowan prepared to leave.
His next target was the mysterious "Mr. A" Audrey had mentioned.
If the man was just an unaffiliated practitioner, Rowan would ignore him.
If he belonged to the Iron Front…
He would die.
And Rowan would walk his remains straight to the Night Church to collect advancement resources.
Much faster than chasing rumors about merfolk in distant seas.
As Rowan turned, Miles hesitated.
"Um… could I… also borrow some money?"
Rowan blinked.
Then laughed.
"Borrow? Don't be ridiculous. We're from the same place. Here."
He waved a hand.
A heavy crate appeared between them.
It hit the ground with a dull thud.
Inside, neatly stacked gold bars gleamed.
Miles stared.
Rowan added casually, "I've figured out how to transmute base materials into precious metals. If I want money, I make money."
Miles felt his brain stall.
"…That's just unfair."
...
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