The morning sunlight drove away some of the lingering chill as Ryan stepped into the familiar chaos of the flea market. The air buzzed with the calls of vendors and the haggling of bargain hunters. Though the market was crowded and disorganized, it always held a strange sense of possibility for him.
His goal today was clear: find an item worth more than $3,000. It sounded simple enough, but Ryan knew it was going to be anything but easy.
He moved through the aisles at a steady pace, casually browsing the stalls while discreetly scanning items with the system. He made sure not to linger too long at any one spot to avoid drawing attention to himself.
At one stall, a small copper pocket watch caught his eye. It looked old and worn, with a faint patina on the surface. Ryan focused on it, and the system quickly displayed its details:
"Item: Early 20th Century Pocket Watch (Damaged)
Material: Copper-Plated
Market Value: $100."
"Not bad, but nowhere close to what I need," Ryan thought, sighing quietly. Still, he handed over $20 to the vendor and pocketed the watch. If the day ended in failure, at least he wouldn't go home completely empty-handed.
After wandering the market for a while longer, Ryan stopped at a nondescript stall run by a young man scrolling through his phone. The table was cluttered with random trinkets, but a small transparent box caught Ryan's attention. Inside were a few colorful stones that looked entirely ordinary. A hand-drawn sign taped to the box read: "Clearance – $10."
Ryan picked up the box, turning it over in his hands and holding it up to the sunlight. With a quick mental command, he activated the system scan.
"Item: Decorative Stones (Contains Sapphire Rough)
Material: Sapphire Rough, Ordinary Stone
Market Value: Sapphire Approx. $1,100; Others Valueless."
Ryan's heart skipped a beat, but he quickly forced himself to remain calm. Without betraying his excitement, he casually asked, "What's the story with these stones?"
The vendor glanced up from his phone and shrugged. "Oh, just some random colorful rocks my mom brought back from a trip years ago. She thought they might be good for decorating a vanity or maybe a fish tank."
Ryan nodded thoughtfully and smiled. "Well, I just started keeping fish, so these might actually work for me."
He paused for a moment, pretending to hesitate before adding, "But ten bucks feels a little steep for something like this. How about eight?"
The vendor blinked, then waved dismissively. "Yeah, sure. Eight bucks works. Take 'em."
Ryan quickly handed over the cash, tucking the box carefully into his backpack. As he walked away, a faint smile tugged at his lips, but it didn't take long for a sigh to follow.
"Eleven hundred dollars… still nowhere near enough," he thought.
By the time Ryan left the flea market, his backpack was a little heavier, filled with small finds that the system had valued. Even with everything added up, though, the total barely approached $2,000.
Frustrated, he asked the system, "If I combine all these items, can it count as one and complete the task?"
The system's reply was cold and unyielding:
"The task requires a single item. Combining multiple items does not meet the criteria."
Ryan let out a tired sigh. "Of course, no room for negotiation…"
Feeling defeated, he trudged back home. As he rounded the corner to his street, his phone buzzed in his pocket. The name on the screen brought a welcome distraction—Tom Whitaker, his neighbor and longtime friend.
"Hey, Ryan, you free? I could use a hand," Tom's cheerful voice came through the line.
"What's up?" Ryan asked.
"My truck broke down, and I forgot my toolbox at home. Could you grab the spare key under the flowerpot and bring it over? I'm just a few blocks away."
Ryan smiled despite himself. "Your memory's worse than mine. Sure, I'll help you out."
Ryan and Tom had been neighbors for years, and with their similar ages, they had always gotten along well. Tom worked as a truck driver, leading a busy life on the road, but he never failed to greet his neighbors warmly when he was home. On weekends, he often invited Ryan over for a beer and a game, keeping their friendship alive and easygoing. While Tom's income wasn't anything to brag about, it was still a step above Ryan's current situation.
Ryan felt nothing but gratitude toward Tom. When he first moved to the neighborhood during one of the lowest points in his life, he could barely afford a meal. It was Tom who showed up at his door with a big pot of stew, unprompted, and shared it with him. From that moment on, the two had become close friends, sharing everything from laughs to frustrations.
A few minutes later, Ryan arrived at the spot where Tom's truck was parked. The vehicle was loaded with furniture, and Tom was leaning against the cab, cigarette in hand, looking slightly exasperated.
"Got a few rejects," Tom explained, motioning toward the truck bed. "The customer returned these because they're defective. The supplier doesn't want to pay for me to haul them back, so they're mine to deal with now."
Ryan peeked into the truck bed. There was an assortment of chairs, tables, and cabinets piled haphazardly. Most of it looked fairly ordinary, but one deep brown storage cabinet caught his eye. Its rich, dark grain and smooth finish stood out, and something about it felt... different.
"This cabinet looks interesting," Ryan murmured, leaning closer. He activated the system scan.
"Item: 19th Century Rare Ebony Storage Cabinet
Material: Ebony (Extremely Rare)
Historical Context: 19th Century European Antique Furniture, Excellent Condition
Market Value: $4,200."
Ryan froze. Four thousand two hundred dollars?! His pulse quickened as he stared at the cabinet. Ebony was one of the rarest and most valuable hardwoods in the world, and this piece was a hidden gem.
"Tom, would you sell me this cabinet? I kind of like it," Ryan asked, doing his best to sound nonchalant.
Tom raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "You want that thing? The door sticks, and it's a pain to move. If you like it that much, just take it. Consider it a thank-you for helping me out."
Ryan hesitated. "I can't just take it. Honestly, it reminds me of a cabinet back home, so I thought I'd buy it… mainly for nostalgia."
Tom waved him off. "Stop overthinking it. You're doing me a favor getting rid of it. Plus, I owe you one. Go ahead—take it."
Ryan couldn't argue further. He felt a mix of gratitude and guilt but decided to let it go for now. "Once I make some money off this, I'll treat Tom to something nice," he silently promised.
After fixing the truck, Tom even offered to drive the cabinet to Ryan's place, saving him the trouble of hauling it himself.
Ryan stood in his small living room, staring at the exquisite ebony cabinet. The more he looked at it, the happier he felt. But soon, a frown crept across his face.
"How am I supposed to sell this thing?" he muttered to himself.
Auction houses required proof of purchase, which he clearly didn't have. Pawnshops might be less strict, but they still needed some kind of documentation to verify the item's legal origins. And the flea market? There was no way anyone would shell out four grand for an old cabinet, no matter how rare the wood was.
For a moment, Ryan felt completely stuck. Clinging to a sliver of hope, he turned to the system for advice. "Any suggestions?" he asked, almost pleading.
"Host must resolve this independently," the system replied in its usual detached tone.
Ryan let out a long sigh. At least he'd managed to secure something valuable—an unexpected win in itself. No point in overthinking it now. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out the last of his cash and decided to head to the nearest fast-food joint to grab a bite to eat.