Chapter 82: The Profiteer Mr. Melo

The port district of Agrik was forever permeated with a mixed scent of salted fish, spices, and damp wood; it was a cacophony of voices and a crush of shoulders. Sakavi's tall, black dragon-man figure wove through the crowded flow of people, his dark-gold vertical pupils quickly locking onto his target.

In a relatively open corner of the market, next to a stall selling Eastern silk, stood a fellow calling himself "Melo." He looked like a human youth of twenty-seven or twenty-eight, possessing a head of dark brown curly hair weathered by sea breeze and sunlight, sticking slightly messily to his forehead, the tips still carrying a trace of salt.

His skin was a healthy bronze, but upon closer inspection, the skin tone on his neck and the backs of his hands was slightly uneven, as if from long-term sun exposure rather than natural, perhaps a disguise to cover his original complexion.

He wore a dark green travel coat of decent material but clearly well-worn, the worn elbows cleverly patched with leather of a similar color. Underneath was an off-white linen shirt, the collar casually open, revealing an unremarkable silver chain hanging with a small piece of turquoise.

Beneath his handsome face lay the slickness and approachability of a merchant; the corners of his mouth always hung with a smile that seemed to have seen the vast world—slightly weary yet still enthusiastic.

Most striking were his eyes. In human form, they remained a striking, emerald green like midsummer wild grass; the pupils would inadvertently reveal a trace of overly sharp verticality when the light changed, but most of the time, he cleverly used lowered eyelids or turning movements to conceal it.

His gaze was lively and persuasive, appearing incomparably sincere when looking at people, as if ready to share a secret from afar at any moment. His posture was upright, yet he deliberately hunched slightly, making himself look weathered to make his experiences convincing.

His fingers were slender, his nails trimmed very cleanly. On his right index finger, he wore a seemingly ordinary silver ring engraved with difficult-to-recognize patterns that he claimed were "runes from his hometown," looking somewhat like a fallen noble.

The stall he chose was clever, backed by a canopy made from the old canvas of a retired merchant ship, providing both shade and a hint of navigation and distant lands. Beneath his feet lay a slightly worn but beautifully patterned dark blue carpet, separating him from the rough stone floor and instantly elevating the quality of his goods.

He did not use the rough wooden tables of ordinary vendors, but rather stacked several wooden crates carved with intricate patterns (though the workmanship was rough upon close inspection), covering them with a black velvet cloth. Those so-called "elven gold and silver jewelry" glittered in the sunlight filtering through the gaps in the canvas.

Bracelets, necklaces, earrings... the styles carried the slenderness and natural elements common to elves: twining vines, unfolding leaves. The green dragon was clever enough to use some real small freshwater pearls and brightly colored glass beads (impersonating gemstones) for embellishment, which, set against the black velvet, looked quite noble and mysterious at first glance.

At this moment, Melo was picking up a silver necklace inlaid with "moonstone" (actually polished white glass). His voice was not loud, yet it carried a magnetism that could penetrate the noise. Several customers had already gathered, mostly well-dressed citizens lacking resistance to exquisite items, and the occasional passing sailor.

"Gentlemen, please look at this perfect craftsmanship!" Melo's voice was full of admiration. He carefully pinched the necklace with his fingertips, letting the "gemstone" rotate in the light, refracting colorful spots of light.

"This did not come from beneath the brute-force hammers of dwarves, nor is it a clumsy imitation by human craftsmen. This is from Bremesost, carved bit by bit by the finest elven artisans under the moonlight, accompanied by the sound of streams, using the magic of their fingertips!"

He squinted slightly with those cunning green vertical pupils and lowered his voice, as if sharing a secret: "Look at the curling shape of these vines; every arc contains the rhythm of nature. Can you feel this 'moonstone'? It truly absorbs moonlight; at night, it will emit a soft halo, capable of protecting the wearer from nightmares."

An orc merchant dressed in silk couldn't help but reach out to touch it, but Melo cleverly pulled his hand back, his face carrying just the right amount of apology and arrogance: "Ah, apologies, noble guest. Elven works contain the spirituality of nature and are not accustomed to being... frequently touched by common hands.

Look at this luster, this texture; in Agrik, you will absolutely not find a second piece! I accidentally rescued an injured elven traveler, and he gifted me these treasures to repay the debt of saving his life."

He sighed, his expression so sincere it was almost flawless: "If not for my urgent need for funds to travel to Skull City to deliver a letter for an elven warrior, I would truly be reluctant to part with them. Every piece here is a unique item, carrying blessings from the Fancimante Forest."

Sakavi crossed his arms, his black scales absorbing heat under the port's sun, his cold gaze sweeping over the jewelry. With his natural perception of metals and gemstones, he could clearly "hear" the "noise" of the cheap alloy beneath the so-called "pure silver."

As well as the hollow and superficial essence of those "gemstones." In the air, besides the salty fishiness of the port, there faintly drifted a trace of an extremely weak scent belonging to a green dragon, carrying damp vegetation and cunning.

Sakavi's tall, black body was cleverly hidden in the shadows of the bustling market crowd; a corner piled with fishing nets and wooden barrels became his perfect observation point, like the most patient hunter, observing just how much real skill this green dragon had, besides its audacious disguise.

He saw a well-dressed young orc noble passing by with his female companion. Melo hurriedly picked up a pair of earrings inlaid with "star fragments" (actually blue glass with bubbles inside), his voice full of temptation:

"Noble sir, look, the gemstones on these earrings are said to be fragments of light captured by elves when a meteor streaked across the night sky. Your beautiful lady wearing them will surely make even the stars pale in comparison." He cleverly linked the product to the customer's companion and gave it a romantic legend on the spot.

The young noble was clearly moved, especially under the expectant gaze of his companion. Melo did not rush to quote a price, but looked at the stall with regret: "Such treasures should not be measured by money... but since you have a connection with it, fifteen gold coins, let it have the honor of witnessing the love between the two of you."

The price was somewhat ridiculously high, but for a noble whose mind was muddled by elven craftsmanship and symbols of love, it seemed within an acceptable range. After some pretentious haggling, it was finally sold for twelve gold coins.

Melo's face showed a timely expression of "reluctant parting," carefully wrapping the earrings and handing them over, as if he were delivering not inferior glass, but true star fragments.

Immediately after, a sailor who looked like he had traveled far and wide and had some knowledge came over, interested in an elven dagger said to be able to "split the waves" (actually an ordinary iron dagger with ornate carvings).

Melo immediately changed his strategy, no longer talking about ethereal legends, but lowering his voice as if sharing a nautical secret: "Brother, good eye! This dagger looks ornate, but its true value lies in its sharpness and resilience.

You think, elven adventurers in hidden corners might deal with some kind of magical beast with thick skin, often pursuing a one-hit kill. The balance and sharpness of this dagger can allow you to strike accurately even on a rocking ship." He even let the sailor test the feel.

The sailor was half-believing, but the price Melo gave was relatively reasonable, three gold coins, and he threw in a vague clue about a treasure on an island in the Endless Sea that he had heard from a wood elf of the Black Forest. The sailor hesitated for a moment, then took out thirty silver coins.

Sakavi silently watched Melo use different strategies to sell a "Moonlight Protection" necklace to a slightly plump middle-aged woman and an elven rune ring that "brings good luck" to a curious young scholar in less than half an hour.

The green dragon's tongue could always weave the net most suitable for its prey, keenly capturing the desire in their eyes—whether it was vanity, love, practicality, a sense of security, or a thirst for knowledge—and then filling it with its own stories and "goods." This green dragon's audacity, adaptability, and precise grasp of the human heart truly exceeded his expectations.

By noon, looking at the few remaining goods, the green dragon calling himself "Melo" was in such a good mood he could almost fly. He nimbly packed up the old velvet cloth and stuffed the remaining "elven treasures" (cheated from a fake merchant) into his pockets.

Today's harvest was bountiful, the heavy purse in his bosom emitting a pleasant clinking sound. Whistling a light, off-key tune, he decided to avoid the still-noisy main road to avoid being caught by some duped customer, turning into a relatively quiet alley leading toward the academy.

This alley was narrow and damp, flanked by the backs of tall buildings, the walls covered in slippery moss, the air permeated with the salty fishiness peculiar to the harbor district and the faint smell of rotting garbage. Sunlight was cut off by the high walls, leaving only a few slanting rays, making most of the alley dim.

Just as he reached the middle of the alley, a tall, black shadow turned out silently from a fork in the road ahead, completely blocking his path. The figure was well-defined in the dimness, covered in black scales that absorbed light, the dark-gold vertical pupils like cold flames in the shadows.

Melo's whistling stopped abruptly, his heart skipping a beat, but a merchant's smile quickly piled onto his face: "Uh, this... my lord? What can I do for you? If you need exquisite elven jewelry, I have here..."

Before he could finish, light footsteps came from behind. He turned his head sharply to see the silver dragon-man Morax standing at the alley entrance, his slender body blocking the retreat, his scales glowing with a metallic cold light in the faint illumination, his eyes calm but carrying an unquestionable pressure.

At the same time, an inconspicuous side door beside him was pushed open, and Su Lai De, transformed into a white dragon-man, walked out slowly, leaning lazily against the door frame, holding a mace, a playful smile still lingering at the corners of his mouth.

Sakavi took a step forward, his deep voice echoing in the narrow space, carrying undisguised threats: "Put away your tricks, Mr. 'Melo'." He deliberately emphasized the word "Mister." "We have been watching you for a long time. Business is good? Making a fortune?"

Morax's cold voice came from behind, like ice shards scraping across a stone slab: "Hand over everything valuable on you—the purse, the jewelry, and those 'stories' of yours 'from the elves'."

Su Lai De chuckled and added: "We are very interested in the process of how you 'got' these goods; perhaps you can tell us slowly?"

The blood drained from Li Wo Ge's face instantly, and a flash of genuine panic crossed his emerald green eyes. He subconsciously clutched the purse in his bosom, his body tense, his brain spinning rapidly, trying to find a way to escape or quickly fabricate a new lie.

But facing these three pairs of eyes that seemed to see through everything, especially Sakavi's dark-gold vertical pupils that seemed to ignite his soul, he felt his exquisite lies melting away like ice under the sun.

Only now did he truly realize the mood of those customers he had swindled with his glib tongue when they discovered they had been deceived. It was just that the "robbers" he faced were clearly much more dangerous than the victims.

"My lords, let's talk this over! I am a fresh graduate of the Dragon Beast Academy nearby. This area is managed by our boss Morax. If you want to challenge him, go ahead, don't make things difficult for a small character like me. Besides, causing trouble on his turf won't end well."

Morax said disdainfully: "Hmph, if you have the ability, call him over. If he dares to lay a hand on me, I'll count it as his ability!"

The panic on Li Wo Ge's face receded like the tide, replaced by an extreme calmness and a rapidly spinning sharpness. His emerald green eyes narrowed like two bottomless cold pools, and the previously deliberate slickness and humility vanished without a trace.

He relaxed his tense body, even patting his chest where the purse was, as if soothing the frightened "property." His gaze swept over the three of them in turn, and the corners of his mouth began to pull upward uncontrollably, finally turning into a low, scoffing laugh filled with sudden realization and absurdity.

"Ha..." He shook his head, his gaze first landing on Sakavi who was blocking the way. "In Agrik, robbing a dragon? And on the turf of the Dragon Beast gang?" His voice no longer mimicked the tone of a human merchant, recovering some of the hoarse, magnetic original tone belonging to the dragon kind.

"This 'robber' sir," he said to Sakavi, his tone full of playfulness, "your black dragon aura is so pure, like a lighthouse in the night in the city. Other dragons would have no reaction? Unless..." He dragged out the tone, "they are just turning a blind eye."

His gaze turned to Morax behind him, carefully examining those beautiful silver scales: "And you, noble silver dragon. Robbery? This is not a job your kind likes to do; it's too unrefined." He seemed to have suddenly thought of something, "Wait, silver dragon... could it be?" The green dragon became panicked instantly.

"Mr. Melo, just now I heard someone say they were a dragon and seemed very good at deception. Can you explain that to me properly?"

"Uh... Grand Duke, I... I didn't mean to deceive you. Listen to my sophistry—ah no, listen to my explanation. Actually, I am a homeless green dragon, bullied by my older brothers and sisters since childhood, physically underdeveloped, and couldn't survive in the wild, so I came here to impersonate a dragon beast..." He actually started wiping away tears.

"Keep making it up. If you can't make it up, I'll hang you on the city wall and beat you. You deceived the academy administrator and snuck into the Dragon Beast Academy; did you really think I couldn't find out? Now go and subdue the dwarves of the Solo Islands, and lower the hostility toward us in the surrounding area. If you don't do it well, I'll peel your skin off."

"Gr... Grand Duke, rest assured, I guarantee I'll make the dwarves follow orders. If there's no rebellion in the human kingdom one day, you can twist my head off." ===== CHAPTER 83 =====