In just two short hours, the gel price, which had been skyrocketing, suddenly screeched to a halt, stabilizing at 4,600 gold coins.
By 2:00 PM, the gel price experienced its first drop in seven days. Although the decrease was slight—falling to 4,590 gold coins—it was a dangerous signal.
If the low-priced gel circulating earlier had only awakened the smarter merchants, this new drop, posted on the notice board, instantly sobered the ordinary traders who had been recklessly throwing their fortunes into the market.
Sure, gel was a key material for crafting the goblin resurrection potion, but its original price had been only 3 gold coins. There were plenty of other sources of this material, and its production was fairly abundant.
Even if the goblin resurrection potion caused some price increase, it shouldn't have skyrocketed like this. It was utterly absurd.
Did they really need to risk their entire fortunes on this?
More and more merchants decided to sell off the gel in their possession.
Under normal circumstances, such mass selling would likely trigger a total collapse of the gel market.
But at this moment, Sherlock had just gathered a large sum of funds—and to his relief, Tina had not listed any gel futures that day.
He didn't know whether she was out of capital or if there were other reasons, but her absence allowed him to breathe easier.
As long as he wasn't buying Tina's massive bulk trades, his funds were enough to influence the gel market's movement.
All he needed was to maintain the gel price through the day.
Thus, although the retail selling might have some effect, it remained within his capacity to handle.
By 3:00 PM, the gel price surged again, successfully returning to 4,600. There were still three hours before the guild closed for the day.
If he could get through those three hours smoothly, Sherlock would have survived the crisis.
According to guild rules, prices were updated only once every hour, so there were just two updates left. Charlotte was confident he could manage them.
However, as more transactions occurred, he began to sense that something was wrong.
The volume of gel flooding the market was simply enormous—far beyond what retail traders could account for. It seemed as if a merchant with vast stockpiles was selling off large quantities.
Still, Sherlock, flush with cash, gritted his teeth and bought up everything.
If he didn't, prices would drop further. Other merchants, eager to protect their own profits, would continue selling at lower prices.
The lower the price fell, the more people would sell, creating a vicious cycle.
Eventually, even Sherlock's abundant funds would be powerless.
Compared to the massive market supply, his purchases were barely a drop in the ocean.
Then came 4:00 PM, and with it, a disaster.
According to the guild's calculations, the average gel price had fallen to 4,500 gold coins.
But misfortune struck again. Immediately after the price update, a huge batch of gel appeared on the notice board, priced far below the current market value.
In the preceding hour, Charlotte had emptied almost all his gold trying to buy up gel from the market.
His eyes were bloodshot, his hair disheveled.
He had no idea who was disrupting the market—or who had the power to do so.
But he knew one thing: he had completely lost.
Not merely because his funds were exhausted and he couldn't buy the newly listed gel, but because he had staked everything on this gamble.
Neither he nor the shareholders of the alchemy machinery factory had any capital left to fill this bottomless pit.
So, before 5:00 PM—even just ten minutes after the 4:00 PM price was posted—the guild staff returned to the notice board.
Sweating profusely, one raised a cloth, wiped off the previous price, and wrote a new number:
4,000 gold coins.
Instantly, everyone present felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over them.
Holders of gel suddenly realized a harsh truth: prices might never rise again, and judging by the trend, they were likely to keep falling.
What did that make the gel they had bought at inflated prices?
A costly lesson?
More and more people rushed to the counter, eager to sell their gel at low prices.
The spectacle was just as wild as the previous frenzy when prices had skyrocketed.
The gel price had become like a breached dam. A surge of panic selling threatened to destroy the dam painstakingly built, drop by drop.
The phenomenon of "stampede selling" began.
Merchants frantically dumped gel, but no one wanted to be the unlucky buyer to absorb the bubble.
So the gel price could only continue falling, until it reached a reasonable, truly value-aligned level.
By the time the mechanical clock in the center of the guild hall struck five, the gel price had undergone six changes.
At that moment, it rested at a mere 1,000 gold coins.
A dreamlike collapse.
Creating a grand price bubble required enormous time and capital. But once punctured, it could collapse in an instant.
The gel still retained some value thanks to the goblin resurrection potion, but even that was temporary.
Meanwhile, a rumor silently spread throughout the guild:
"The goblin resurrection potion was just a scheme set up by the Potion Academy to hype the price of Breezewind Slime Gel."
With that, the last remnants of the gel bubble were punctured.
Bubbles only reveal themselves after they burst.
Throughout this ordeal, no one had realized that Breezewind Slime Gel had always been worth just 3 gold coins.
As the six o'clock bell rang, the price bubble was completely gone.
The notice board finally settled on a single line:
"Breezewind Slime Gel: 3 gold coins."