"Help selling magic water as much as you can until the promotion time expires…"
The sentence lingered on the final page of the old book long after the ink stopped glowing.
Baston stared at it in silence.
Regarding magic water, the old book did not explain. It surely never explained because it only commanded. Since the quest stated help, the product was clearly not his. That meant he needed to identify the item himself.
The book was precise. It always was. He closed the page slowly.
The quest was confusing but there was one thing he had known.
The old book always read his circumstance.
At the moment, he was browsing goods on the aisle. Certainly, the product was nearby. The goods must belong on Rembrant's store.
When he stepped out, the store was already alive with noise. The attendants shouted, goods and money were exchanged, and the smell of sweat blended in the air.
Baston continued his little exploration before he saw it.
A shelf near the back, almost hidden from the sight. Neatly arranged glass bottles filled with faintly shimmering liquid.
Its color was pale blue which was almost transparent. Small labels with the emblem of the research center stamped on the cork seal.
Supposedly, it must be magic water.
However, the shelf was full. It was too full in this crowded store. No one stopped in front of it.
People passed by with casual glances. Some with faint smirks while others whispered. In the end, none reached out.
Baston approached calmly.
Rembrant was standing nearby, pretending to supervise another counter but his eyes betrayed unease.
"These things came from one of our reliable suppliers," Rembrant muttered when Baston wandered around the shelf, "First day, sales were acceptable. After that, it soon collapsed."
"Why?" Baston asked.
Rembrant exhaled, "Rumors…"
He lowered his voice, "Several customers complained publicly. They claimed the water did nothing. They said it was fake."
"Fake?" Baston tilted his head, "If it's fake, why hasn't the Research Center intervened?"
"Because it isn't fake," Rembrant replied quickly, "It passed official testing but magic perception varies from person to person. The water enhances clarity of mana sensitivity. If someone's aptitude is low, the effect is subtle, very subtle that people often diminish it."
"So they expect explosive result in the beginning," Baston murmured.
Rembrant nodded bitterly, "People want immediate results. If they don't feel a surge, they call it fraud."
Baston glanced at the bottles. So, this wasn't a product problem. It was a perception problem.
"Tomorrow is the last day of promotion," Rembrant continued, "After that, it will be removed from the shelves. The supplier won't extend support."
The shelf remained untouched. The bottles glimmered quietly under daylight like truth that no one wished to test.
Baston nodded casually, showing little interest. Inside, however, his mind accelerated. He only had one day and one chance before the current quest ended. It was such a short time to finish the issue.
He returned to his inn before Rembrant could insist on hospitality. He declined the offer of a better room again. The current inn was close to the store. Distance mattered more than comfort.
Once inside, he locked the door and leaned against it.
He didn't need to change the product. He only needed to change belief.
The product of magic water did not fail entirely because the problem was on expectation.
Rumor spread faster than fact but rumor could also be redirected.
Rumor was a peculiar creature.
It did not require proof and did not demand logic.
It only required repetition and a host willing to carry it forward.
Once released, it moved like mist. It was thin, invisible, yet capable of obscuring mountains.
Baston walked toward the small window of his inn room and looked down at the street.
The market below appeared chaotic but beneath that chaos was pattern.
Merchants sold not only goods but confidence.
Buyers did not purchase items alone.
They purchased assurance. Magic water had lost assurance. That meant someone had taken it.
He recalled Rembrant's wording carefully.
Several customers complained publicly. Public complaints were unusual in this city. Most dissatisfied buyers preferred quiet refunds. Open accusation meant either emotional outrage or orchestration.
Was the rumor spontaneous or planted?
If it were planted, then the culprit would benefit from either collapsing the supplier's reputation or buying the remaining stock cheaply after confidence fully eroded.
Baston's fingers tapped lightly against the windowsill.
If he could reverse perception so easily, then someone else could have initiated the collapse just as deliberately.
The market was not merely a place of trade. It was a battlefield of belief.
He closed his eyes. He could not adjust price nor he had managerial authority.
There was no promotional banners and no official endorsements.
He was just an outsider in this big picture which meant he needed to operate where outsiders thrived in uncertainty.
*****
By dawn, he already had a plan.
When the store opened the next morning, Baston did not enter personally. His puppet did.
The figure wore plain clothing with average build and forgettable face. He was neither poor nor wealthy, exactly the type of people who would be ignored soon.
A second puppet lingered near the entrance.
Baston observed everything from the inn where his consciousness was split calmly between two vessels.
The magic water shelf looked identical to yesterday. It was still full and untouched.
The puppet approached casually and began speaking to nearby customers.
"Excuse me, what do you think about this product?"
He asked lightly and the responses came easily.
"It's useless."
"My cousin drank it for months. The result is nothing."
"I heard the batch was switched."
"I believe on Research Center's reputation but that doesn't mean there will be no mistakes."
The whispers were consistent. No one dared accuse loudly but everyone believed quietly. That was enough. Rumor did not need volume since it only needed repetition.
Baston smiled faintly. So far, it was quite good. He needed resistance so there would be a contrast.
He moved the second puppet to the counter.
"Excuse me…" the second puppet said politely, holding one bottle, "How much is this?"
The attendant blinked in surprise. A genuine customer finally asked about magic water which left her baffled. She soon straightened instantly.
"Sir, you are fortunate. Today is the final promotional day. The price is reduced by half."
Before she could finish, another word came up.
"Don't waste your money!"
The first puppet interrupted loudly. Heads turned and the atmosphere quickly shifted. The first puppet crossed his arms.
"That thing is just ordinary water. Haven't you heard?"
Murmurs began and the second puppet frowned, "Is that true?"
The attendant's professional smile tightened, "Sir, please do not spread misinformation. This product is certified."
"Certified?" the first puppet scoffed, "Then why does it do nothing?"
The crowd was gathering now. No one intervened since they could only watch.
They always listened toward commotion, believing it would be more interesting than browsing the goods.
The first puppet leaned closer to the second.
"I did my research. It only works for certain talents. For others, it's worthless."
There was a pause before another voice came up, "Not suitable for everyone?"
That phrasing mattered. It meant it was not fake but the effect was selective. The second puppet hesitated visibly.
"Then, I will reconsider."
He returned the bottle. The attendant's frustration flickered. Soon, the crowd dispersed slowly while whispers intensifying.
Baston withdrew both puppets briefly. He allowed the rumor to simmer.
Five minutes later, the first puppet returned. He walked directly to the shelf.
Without hesitation, he grabbed two boxes. Each box contained twelve bottles. There were audible gasps from the surrounding people. He slammed them onto the counter.
"How much the price?"
The attendant was startled, "It's 1200 pounds after promotion."
"I will take it. Here's the money…"
He paid in full. There was no bargaining and no hesitation. Before everyone could react, he quickly left. The contradiction lingered in the air.
Moments earlier, he criticized the product. Now, he purchased in bulk. The suspicion soon was ignited. The second puppet reappeared near the exit.
They accidentally collided.
"You!" the second puppet snapped, "Didn't you say it was fake?"
"Mind your own business…"
The first puppet pushed past him and exited. There was a silence.
The second puppet stood still for three heartbeats before his expression shifted.
He turned slowly toward the shelf since realization was dawning upon himself. He walked briskly back.
"Give me two boxes."
The attendant blinked again, "Two?"
"Yes... Quickly!"
As he paid, he muttered loudly enough for others to hear, "That bastard tried to mislead me. He wants to clear the stock himself."
Whispers surged and a theory formed. It was scarcity, manipulation, and hidden value.
The first man discredited the product publicly to lower competition before he bought it secretly.
Therefore, it surely must have worth.
People exchanged looks. No one wanted to be the fool who missed hidden opportunity.
Human minds disliked unresolved contradiction.
If a man insulted a product yet purchased it in bulk, there were only two possible explanations.
Whether it was madness or hidden knowledge.
Madness rarely involved precise cash payment without hesitation.
Thus, hidden knowledge was more attractive.
Baston observed how quickly the logic shifted. Earlier, they believed the product failed. Now, they feared being excluded from opportunity.
The transformation was not gradual. It was instantaneous like a flock of birds suddenly changing direction mid-air.
"I'll take one box."
"Two for me."
"I don't want to regret it later."
"Maybe the new batch is different."
"Better safe than sorry."
The shelf began to empty. The attendant could barely process the shift.
Meanwhile, Baston leaned back in his inn chair. He did nothing extraordinary. He did not lie about the product and did not fabricate evidence. He only redirected suspicion.
Humans fear of being deceived but they fear of missing advantage even more.
Within one hour, half the stock was gone.
By midday, the shelf was nearly empty.
By afternoon, everything was completely cleared.
Rembrant arrived in confusion.
"What happened?"
The attendant explained in fragments. It began from two strange men. They started argument before the first customer proceeded to bulk purchase.
Slowly, rumors of hidden value from magic water appeared before the crowd made a reaction.
Rembrant looked at the empty shelves like a man staring at a miracle. His relief was genuine. But beneath it, there was something else. It was fear.
The merchant quickly called for one of his assistants and whispered instructions.
Inventory records were brought out and numbers were checked twice.
Why fear success?
Unless sudden success was more dangerous than steady failure, large spikes invited attention.
It was either from suppliers, competitors, authorities, or whoever began the rumor in the first place.
If someone had orchestrated the decline, then today's reversal would not go unnoticed.
Meanwhile, Baston closed his eyes. The old book pulsed faintly.
He did not open it yet. He understood something now.
Magic water did not need belief in its effect. It needed belief in its importance.
People did not buy based on truth. They bought based on narrative and narrative was built on contrast.
When something was universally dismissed, one decisive contradiction could shatter certainty. He stood and approached the window. The market buzzed louder than usual.
Then, he noticed something subtle.
Two men standing across the street.
They were watching toward Rembrant's store. They did not focus on the passing customers and merchants. They were observing something.
Their gaze lingered on the store. Much on the emptied shelf and on the crowd.
Baston's eyes narrowed because it was unexpected. He moved his puppet who was still on the perimeter to get closer.
The men were dressed plainly but their posture was disciplined. One of them scribbled notes while the other scanned the street. It was quite interesting.
So the ripple reached farther than intended.
Had someone noticed the sudden spike of sales?
What was their identities?
Whether they were friend, bystander, or foe, Baston felt a small thrill.
The mystery deepened. The old book did not warn of consequences. It never did. It only judged the current issue without thinking about the next.
The two men across the street did not behave like common observers. Their boots were clean despite standing near dust. Their posture remained symmetrical and alert but not restless. Even their silence felt disciplined.
The one who was holding parchment wrote only occasionally as if recording specific data rather than random observation.
Perhaps, it was about sales quantity.
Perhaps, it was about customer reaction.
Perhaps, it could be also about time intervals.
Baston felt a thin thread of caution tighten inside him.
If they were from the Research Center, they might be investigating abnormal sales behavior.
If they were competitors, they might suspect coordinated manipulation.
If they were neither, then the mystery expanded further.
He resisted the urge to probe deeper. Sometimes, observation was more powerful than action.
Let them wondered first and let them suspected ghosts.
The more uncertain they were, the safer he remained.