Meanwhile, in the shadows of his own thoughts, the seller was laughing.
Not the kind of laugh one dared to show on the surface—no, this was a seething, howling cackle that echoed in the deep caverns of his mind like thunder trapped inside a cavern.
His face on the outside maintained its smooth, businesslike smile, ever charming, ever professional, but behind those carefully curved lips, behind those glistening eyes and showman's bow, was a storm of ridicule and scorn.
These Silver Blade City fools... they never disappoint… it was so easy to fool them… as expected of a backwater lowest territory… people here are dumb as hell… Next time, I'll be back for more…
He barely held back the urge to clutch his stomach in theatrical glee.
These so-called "Mana Specialists," these "Professors," these respected figures of this pathetic, backwater territory—he would have spit on the ground in contempt if not for the need to keep up appearances.
