Chapter 3: The Potion Flip
"...then I’m done being poor."
The words still sat on his tongue when the window dimmed slightly. The system didn’t respond—it never did. It just flickered gently in the dark like a lamp that didn’t care if he was bluffing or not.
Frank leaned forward, his back cracking from the angle. He wiped a streak of sweat from his forehead, dragged the screen closer with a flick of his fingers, and opened the [Marketplace] tab.
A cascade of listings exploded across the interface—hundreds of them, layered in shifting text and half-glowing icons. Items from different realms rolled in like market stalls at a festival: bone flutes, powdered mana, teeth wrapped in silk, and something labeled "void-slug shells" with a customer warning attached.
Frank scrolled through, his jaw clenched.
"Filters," he muttered. "There’ve gotta be filters..."
He tapped the screen again. A side panel popped up.
Sort by:
– Price (Low to High)
– Realm of Origin