Little Tyrant Doesn't Want to Meet with a Bad End[1-200]

Chapter 28: Let's See Who I Should Rip Off

Arwen Dani felt that he had led quite a successful life.

Forty this year, he was born in Rosa and had the trademark red hair of a Rosaian. In his earlier years, he had traveled cross country in a merchant convoy, touring the many nations of the continent. It was only in his thirties that he finally returned to Rosa to take on greater responsibilities within the association. At this moment, he was already the manager of Sorofya Merchant Association's Ascart City Branch.

As one of the few branch managers of the illustrious Sorofya Merchant Association in the Theocracy, Arwen's standing was even above that of lesser nobles. Only the most distinguished customers were worthy of being attended to by him.

And the black-haired boy sitting before him right now was one of them.

"Young master Roel, the two sets of clothes you have ordered will only be arriving in half a month's time. We'll have our people deliver them to the Ascart House. As for the short sword you requested, I'm afraid that it'll take slightly longer; roughly three months."

Inside an exquisitely adorned room, a black-suited Arwen looked at the adorable yet handsome little boy seated opposite to him, as he explained the situation with an amiable smile. The comfortable vibe that he emanated showed how deserving he was of the manager's position.

A slight aroma wafted from the highest quality red tea being served in elaborately designed Rosaian teacups on the table. Roel leaned comfortably on a soft sofa as he took a sip of the tea and remarked calmly.

"The tea is not bad."

"Haha, it's only appropriate of us to serve you with the best of teas. I wouldn't bear to drink such precious tea under normal occasions."

Tsk tsk, only a kid would believe those words of yours!

Roel continued smiling calmly while retorting disdainfully to Arwen's remark in his mind.

Sorofya was known for its wealth, so how could a high-standing branch manager possibly be unable to afford tea? It was as good as saying that a fish was drowning in water!

This was a common tactic that merchants used, buttering the customer up to high heavens before ripping them off and taking all their money. It was particularly effective on naive youths or proud nobles who would go to all lengths to uphold their pride. Unfortunately for Arwen, Roel fit into neither of the two categories.

You have a glib tongue, but you might as well spare the effort. You're a hundred years too late to be taking advantage of me!

Roel put down his teacup calmly. Paying no heed to Arwen's flattery, he began speaking.

"It's not an issue, three months is fine. These are just minor issues. I didn't call you here for a private chat to verify these trifles."

"I understand. Young master Roel, please feel free to speak your mind. We'll prepare anything you need."

Arwen still had an amicable smile on his face, making it appear as if he would be more than willing to do anything to help, but on the inside, he was already starting to feel contempt for Roel.

Yet another dirty deal. I've long heard that the son of Marquess Carter is a wastrel, but I didn't think that he would get involved with that kind of stuff at such a young age.

Let me take a guess what it is this time. Is it the mirage grass or the euphoric beat? Or is it women that he wants?

Arwen pondered as he made up his mind to find an excuse to send Roel off.

While the Sorofya Merchant Association did deal with a wide variety of stuff, there were explicit rules forbidding the sales of such items within the Theocracy. It was one thing if Roel was the marquess himself⁠—Arwen might have still considered going through with the trade to fawn on him⁠—but Roel was only a successor at the moment.