Michael quickly raised a hand. "That'd be me, sir — and thank you for helping calm everyone down."
The Captain gave a curt nod. "No need to thank me. We've had several complaints this morning — your customers are blocking more than half the street. People can't even reach the shops next door."
He didn't shout, but his voice carried with ease. Everyone nearby could hear every word.
Michael glanced around and realized he was right. The line stretched down the street, spilling into the road. Merchants on the other side were glaring daggers at him.
"You're lucky they haven't started throwing things yet," Darius added dryly.
"Yeah… sorry about that," Michael said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I only opened yesterday. Didn't expect this kind of crowd."
The Captain raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Yesterday? That fast?" He stepped closer, inspecting the stall. "What exactly are you selling that's got this many people fighting for a spot?"
Michael smiled faintly and reached into his bag. "This."
He pulled out a small matchbox and flicked it open. With one strike, a bright flame appeared. Gasps rippled through the onlookers. Then he produced a lighter — flick, click — another steady flame, clean and even. Finally, he lifted a third one.
"This one's windproof," he said, blowing on it. The flame didn't even flicker.
Even the Captain leaned closer, eyes narrowing with genuine intrigue. The warm light reflected in his sharp gray eyes. "That's… impressive," he murmured, his voice carrying a note of weight and curiosity. "Are you a wizard? Or some kind of fire artisan?"
Michael blinked.
Wizard? Fire artisan?
That was, what, the third or fourth time someone had called him that? Understandable, after all — it's a fantasy world — but still, explaining it every time was getting annoying. Ugh… Fine. Let them think what they want. I'm just here to make money.
Michael smiled slightly and said, "You can call me whatever you like, but I'll say this much — it's made using a completely unique process. This one has no mana in it — it's powered by something that's all around us. You just don't notice it most of the time."
The Captain's expression shifted instantly. "A unique process… without mana?" he muttered. "Does it…?"
Murmurs spread through the crowd — an easy fire-making tool without magic? For most people, that was almost unthinkable.
Michael held the lighter up again and flicked it open. The small flame appeared instantly, bright and steady.
"It doesn't rely on any user's mana. Instead, it draws in what's naturally present in the air to ignite."
The Captain froze, as if struck by lightning. "Draws… from the air?" he repeated in disbelief.
It can absorb mana from the surroundings!
"It's designed so that even ordinary folks — those without a single drop of mana — can use it safely. And it's cheaper than most enchanted tools, too," Michael said with a proud smile.
That drew a collective gasp.
The Captain muttered, "Incredible… if that's true, this could change half the trade in the city. Maybe more."
Nearby merchants also leaned closer, whispering to one another. Some looked amazed. Others… uneasy.
Michael simply smiled. They didn't need to understand how it worked — they only needed to buy it.
The crowd had grown even larger since the Captain's arrival. The narrow street was packed shoulder to shoulder — even a few kids trying to sneak a peek between the legs of taller adults.
You know what they say — crowds attract crowds.
Michael raised his voice just enough to carry over the noise. "Each matchbox is ten copper coins, regular lighters are one silver, and windproof lighters are ten silver each."
The crowd erupted in murmurs. To most of them, the prices sounded outrageous — especially when the average person in Albham barely earned eight silver a month. But Michael didn't flinch. He had already built the demand; now, he was setting the value.
Michael's answer was simple: "Buy it if you want. If not, move away."
A few people frowned and backed away, muttering that he'd sold them cheaper yesterday. But more than half the crowd didn't care. They'd seen the flame with their own eyes — to them, it was worth every coin.
Meanwhile, those familiar with enchanted tools stood in disbelief. Fire-making devices did exist, yes — but they were rare and expensive, the kind of luxury only the wealthy could afford. Even Captain Darius, standing beside the stall, remembered spending an entire month's salary on one.
So seeing Michael sell these for such a low price genuinely shocked him. From Darius's point of view, even if Michael charged a silver coin for a matchbox and a full gold coin for a windproof lighter, it would still be cheap.
Curiosity and unease mixed in his chest. Who exactly is this man?
While Darius was lost in thought, the crowd surged forward again. The two guards stepped in, pushing people back to keep order as Michael began pulling more matchboxes and lighters from his bag.
Within an hour, Michael had sold most of his stock.
Even Captain Darius couldn't resist. He bought three windproof lighters himself — and of course, Michael gave him a special discount — to keep this crowd under control.
[Mission Progress: 235 / 1000 silver]
Michael leaned back slightly, wiping his hands on his shirt. His lips curled into a small, satisfied smile.
Back on Earth, fire had once marked the start of civilization — a tool that separated humans from beasts. Now, in this world, he was selling that same power to build his own foundation.