Chapter 50
Clayton simply scoffed at everything unfolding around him. He couldn’t care less about the mockery.
Without saying much, he quickly pulled out a few scrolls from his satchel.
"Alright, everyone," he said casually. "It’s true—I don’t have anything valuable, unlike what some people claim. So, shamelessly, I’ll just show you a few worn-out scrolls I made myself. Please don’t be too disgusted."
He then displayed several magic scrolls: a Pollution Scroll, a Water Bullet Scroll, and a Rainfall Scroll. He deliberately kept the Purification Scroll to himself.
At first, no one paid much attention. After all, as Hope had pointed out—what could a lowly farmer like Clayton possibly have? But when a few people took a closer look at the carvings on the scrolls, curiosity began to stir.
Lately, Clayton had become increasingly skilled at crafting lower-tier, one-star magic scrolls. His work even rivaled that of professional scroll-makers.
Before long, a few participants began purchasing his scrolls. Others offered useful trinkets in exchange. Hope, watching Clayton effortlessly draw attention once again, could only grit his teeth.
"Damn it, this guy’s as slippery as ever," he muttered.
Meanwhile, Arowmfa and a few others eyed Clayton with growing curiosity. He just kept surprising them.
Once the transactions were done, Clayton returned to his seat. The atmosphere around him had noticeably shifted—people were now more friendly and open. And with good reason: he’d shown he had something of value. Clayton accepted the change with calm confidence.
The item exchange continued. Clayton watched quietly, still unimpressed by the offerings so far.