Isaac was flipping through his ledger when he paused at a page that contained a column for new/updated entries, and smiled to himself.
The Trade was such a benevolent concept, even at the most random of times, that calling it a gift that keeps on giving was undermining it. He closed his eyes for a second and sent the Trade a few words of heartfelt thanks before reading the rest of the changes made to his ledger.
The market was adjusting itself based on the new category of demand it was now accommodating. Just like everything else with being a Merchant, every market and economy they submerge themselves in is grouped in tiers and with every major breakthrough in tiers, the market adjusts to the new level of demand but that is strictly contingent on the Merchant's abilities to meet supply. Customer satisfaction was a priority after all. The Trade was fair in its rulings in such cases as it prevents Merchants from manipulating the supply for more profits, at least more than they already do by simply being Merchants.
This was done by evaluating the frequency of sales in the different categories of services provided by the Merchant, making projections for future market trends, evaluating the Merchant's inventory supply capabilities in support of those trends, and finally judging whether the demand would support an increase in price across the favorable categories.
Given the numerous methods available to a Merchant to be used in acquiring their merchandise in stockpiling season – which rarely involves an equivalent exchange – and the favorable changes in market trends, it was no surprise why they could sell things at extremely cheap rates and still come out at massive profits. A good example of this was the starcraft he sold to Nick Fury – which was several trillions below a realistic price – which he had gotten a fleet of for the cheap price of a few psychic enhancements, a fully body enhancement and a teleporting ability from a desperate customer in the middle of a great galactic war. What it had cost him was barely a fraction of a fraction of the cost of a single craft of the lowest level and he had gotten a fleet from it.
He couldn't help but smile at the memory. That man had become one of his most productive customers during that period. The man sold almost all he had to him – more fleets, planets, ores, artifacts, ancient knowledge, forbidden knowledge, even his armor and weapon – in exchange for things like resurrection abilities and items, psychic abilities, defensive abilities, soul techniques and other kinds of enhancements.
Isaac could afford to cheapen the price because of how much it cost him and how much it would influence his new market. Because of Fury's acquisition, the next time he or somebody he's directly or indirectly influenced comes to the shop for a starcraft, they'll automatically go for a better, stronger, and pricier model. Why? Because space wars was all about how much resources you can burn and how fast you can burn it to take down your enemy. It was the biggest money pit in any universe.
He closed the ledger with a satisfied smile. There were hardly any major changes that were made and the few that were were about the increase in price in some of the truly expensive advanced tech stuff. It was expected. Personally, he was more interested in the new market updates than the marginal increase in prices.
As he returned the ledger back to the drawer, his mind reminded him of someone he hadn't seen in a while.
"What is Frank up to these days?" What could a vengeful ex-military man with custom highly lethal and advanced firearms be up to in his free time? Afternoon hobbies perhaps.
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...
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Later in the day, his door was softly pushed open by a sickly man with sunken eyes garbed in heavy coats that were all black.
He walked slowly with a fidget in his limbs and had a sharp unsettling look to his eyes. He looked around, making a few pauses at some ritual masks, some blackened skulls, and a jar of crying eyes.
He almost buckled over when he saw the last one, before a grin split across his face that showcased his collection of rotten stained teeth.
Isaac watched as the man slowly but excitedly hobbled over, coming across him by pure chance since he was more interested in what he was seeing than in anything else.
"Good afternoon sir. What can I help you with today?"
The man pointed a shaky finger at the shop and stuttered for the first few seconds before getting his words to function. "B-black… magic." He went into a small coughing fit after that which thankfully led to nothing drastic.
Isaac nodded in perfect understanding. "We do have items of dark magic origins. Cursed mask, cursed books, cursed dolls, even cursed coins too."
The man was stunned for a moment but then his eyes narrowed and he pointed a shaking finger at Isaac in a threatening gesture.
"D-don't joke around with me, young man." It was a completely valid response to someone thinking they were being made a fool of. From the looks of it, Isaac suspected that he was an occult enthusiast that was unaware of the fact that some of his past unsanctioned dabbling/experiments had left him cursed, hence the reason for his appearance.
"I would not dare to do so." Isaac said. "I also have remedies for minor curses if you would like them. I believe it will help with the one currently afflicting you."
The man looked highly doubtful but he must've seen something on his way over that made him harbor a smidgen of belief.
At this point, all that was needed was a little show and tell. Under the man's astonished face, Isaac drew out a kasaya from a procession of black flames. The man put out his hands in a daze but Isaac withdrew the kasaya. The entire sequence gave him a faint sense of déjà vu.
"I would not recommend touching unholy relics so carelessly, dear sir." The kasaya dissolved in black smoke but not the look in the man's eyes. He looked so invigorated to the point that it almost came off as unnatural.
When he looked at Isaac, instead of doubt, there was a dark affectation in his eyes. He stumbled on himself and leaned almost fully over the counter, stammering with unrestrained obsession.
"W-What… w-what d-do you say, er, you… you… you… sell?"
"Almost everything and anything related to the dark and most profane of arts. Cursed tools, unholy relics, dark books, dark spells, cursed dolls – anything you might want, at any level you might need."
"Sir, calm down." His words seemed to have a magical effect on the man as he visibly calmed down, something the man seemed to notice himself.
"Right, of course. Sorry, hehe, I was just excited." Surprisingly, whatever happened also took away his stammering.
Isaac, displaying yet another level of peak customer service, nodded in complete understanding with a corresponding degree of smile. "Magic does tend to have that effect on all of us."
"Right? Right?" The man eagerly nodded, before speaking low enough to sound conspiratorially. "It's a deep rooted… obsession of mine, I don't know if you understand."
"Perfectly." A fan of the occult. They were more common than most would expect. "So what can I help you with? Though a bit of advice, if you will?"
"Of course!"
"If your experience with the occult and the profane is still at a very surface level i.e. no practical skill at all with its corresponding magic and lore, I'd suggest you should satisfy your interests with general knowledge manuals, OR," he stressed as he saw a conflicted look appear on the man's face, "if you're interested in being a collector of such items and lore, it would be beneficial to start with things like cursed dolls and other general cursed items, and even some books. Don't start with cursed weapons, relics or artifacts as they are more prominent in having adverse, deathly, effects on their users. It would be in your best interest to start with something that comes with an instruction manual and protective guidance."
"I…I…. Yeah… you're right. Of course you're right." That seemed to temper the last of his reckless excitement back into self-preservation-based contemplation.
"Not every curse ends the world. Some just make your morning coffee taste like regret." He quipped humorously. With that he slid a catalog towards the man who took it reverently. "The hobbyist's curse is a delicate thing. Too powerful, and it attracts attention. Too weak, and it's just a paperweight with attitude. The items in this catalog are the sweet spot—annoying enough to be interesting, dangerous enough to be authentic, but unlikely to summon anything that will eat your face."
—The Doomful Diamond (Adventures of Mini-Goddess): A cursed diamond that brings very bad luck to its holder—chairs collapse, doorknobs snap off, roof tiles fall on you in the middle of the desert.
*It's a diamond… that's not enough? Well, at least you'll have a good story to tell. If you survive.
Price: $4,762,000.
—The Self-Writing Grimoire (Dungeons and Dragons): An evil book that writes itself. The pages fill with dark knowledge whether you want them to or not. The curse is the compulsion to keep reading.
*Look on the bright side—you'll be getting a steady dose of that good brain juice. It only lets you look on the dark side?.... Still getting those brain juices, right?
Price: $1,500,001.
…
…
—The Mini Me Doll (Dungeons and Dragons): A small doll or figurine in the shape of a miniature version of the owner. Any effect targeted at the doll is transferred to the owner. The owner receives half the damage done to the doll as psychic damage. Submerge the doll, and the owner experiences shortness of breath.
*Ever wondered what it's like to have a kid? This is it but with more voodoo.
Price: $200,000.
—The Shrinking Necklace (Harry Potter): A necklace that slowly grows smaller while worn, eventually attempting to choke its victim. So far, no one has been severely injured, but it has alarmed magical authorities who suspect someone is trafficking these dark items.
*It's made to size. Literally.
Price: $26,000.
…
The man openly salivated the more his eyes feasted on the scriptural words, Isaac patiently waiting with his hands neatly folded behind his back, and most impressive was that it didn't take him that long before his eyes started slowing down through the pages, and much sooner when it finally came to a stop on a much interesting choice.
"This… this one." The catalog he was given contained hundreds of entries, with the highest placing under the 10 million mark and the lowest price being 200 dollars, and Isaac had admittedly assumed he would be more interested in the cheaper stuff seeing as how he admitted to being an occult enthusiast, but his customer's interest and finances begged to differ.
Maybe he shouldn't have judged the man so quickly given that his arrival in the shop was cataloged with the waft of a two decades old minor curse.
—Chucky (Child's Play): The unwillingly resting place of the soul of known and renowned serial killer, Charles Lee Ray. This scar-faced ginger doll with a penchant for knives and explicitly profane linguistics is absolutely going/try to kill whoever ends up with him as a possession.
*This doll is not child friendly!
*KEEP OUT OF THE REACH OF CHILDREN. THIS CANNOT BE STRESSED ENOUGH.
Price: $500,000.
Isaac looked at the chosen option and nodded his head easily. "One minute please." He left and returned exactly one minute later with a mutilated doll in tow and a small box. He placed both on top of the counter.
"Chucky here comes with a set of three daggers, Soul Carvers, which he carved himself in his free time. For special reasons and on personal request, the daggers come with the doll at no additional cost. It is extremely advisable not to, under any circumstances, leave Chucky in close proximity to the daggers, or even let him know where they are. It's equally advisable to keep him locked up in a box and drowned in the sea—his last owner's words."
—Soul Carvers: Magic-inscribed daggers made by a serial killing doll during his time in confinement. These daggers inflict tiny soul lacerations and unimaginable pain with every cut—solely made by the sadistic doll to inflict as much damage and pain to his victims.
Their inclusion has been negotiated by said doll and the Merchant some time during his confinement. The buyer however retains the complete right to deny/reject the daggers on purchase.
*It is not a pretty picture.
Price: FREE(Bonus inclusion).
"I'll take it." The man said immediately as he handed over his card, completely enraptured by the dark purple glow of the inscriptions of the blackened daggers and temporarily forgetting about the doll he just purchased.
"Here you go, sir." Isaac handed over the card. "Would that be all or would you like to browse through our curse remedies and protective agents?"
That seemed to partially retrieve his attention as he simply agreed with Isaac's suggestion and immediately downed the Remove Curse Potion the moment Isaac brought it out.
—Remove Curse Potion (Dungeons and Dragons): A potion that, when splashed on the cursed individual, location, or object, acts as a casting of the Remove Curse spell. These are standard fare in many potion shops.
Price: $1,000.
"Thank you for your purchase. Hoping we see you again."
"You will, hahaha, you definitely will. Yes." The man laughed uproariously and shook Isaac's hands fervently before he left. "We'll be great friends. I can see it. Hehehehe."
"Wonderful." What a thrilling prospect. On both ends.
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… … ….
Scleckk.
"Ain't so 'beautiful' now, am I, you motherfucking voodoo weirdo!" More stab sounds, followed by pitched groanings, and cascaded with the deranged laugh of a living doll resounded ominously in the fanciful room of the dying man.
"You crazy fucker!" Chucky yelled as he stabbed down on the spine of the dying man laying in the pool of his own blood. "HOW! DO YOU! LIKE! MY! VOODOO!"
Each syllable was accompanied with a furious stab that soon put an end to the misery of an unfortunate occult enthusiast.
"Fuck." Chucky exhaled with heartfelt relief as he slumped against the body of his first victim in a long time. "Finally fucking free at last."
He looked down as his dagger and once again a dark laugh bubbled out of his throat as he stared entranced at the pulsating glow of his special knives.
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Patreøn*com/1stDepth
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