Takuya's words truly did ease Kitahara Yūki's nerves.
Given the circumstances—
The man had no reason to deceive him.
His gaze shifted to the jars before him, and cold sweat began forming in his palms.
He was a very ambitious man. As a regular person, he'd built a massive fortune—but that only made him more afraid of death.
"How much are these jars?" he asked cautiously, while shooting a hard glare at his still-trembling eldest son. In comparison, his second son—already trying to stay composed—was clearly more promising.
"These are just tier-one jars. Price: fifty thousand each," Takuya said, holding up five fingers.
Fifty thousand?
Kitahara Yūki was surprised.
Not because it was expensive—but because it was... so cheap?
After all, the man just claimed these jars could contain immortality and power.
"Business has to start small to build trust," Takuya added with a gentle smile, as if reading his mind. "And as a merchant, I value trust deeply."
"...Alright." Kitahara Yūki showed his resolve as the family head.
He respectfully placed five hundred thousand ryo in front of Takuya.
"Then, the deal is complete." Takuya waved his hand, and the money vanished. "Aren't you going to open one? Trust me—you won't be disappointed."
Kitahara Yūki's hand trembled slightly.
It would've been ideal if it ended at the purchase... but of course, things weren't that simple.
He took a deep breath.
Reached out to open one—
"Father," his second son suddenly stepped forward. "Allow me."
"Ryōta..."
Kitahara Yūki was moved. No one knew what might come out of these jars.
But he still nodded.
The Kitahara clan couldn't be left without him.
Kitahara Ryōta's palms were also sweaty. He gave Takuya a nervous glance, gritted his teeth, and cracked the jar open.
Inside was a soft glow.
"Congratulations—"
Takuya's sudden voice startled all three of them.
"To think the very first jar contained a rare item worth sixty thousand." He smiled and raised his hand, making the glowing orb float. "This is an Experience Orb, containing the sword experience of 1,400 swings. Would you like to try it?"
That's right—it was a custom item.
Though custom orders were expensive, Takuya kept the cost at the system's 600-point minimum.
Its miraculous effect helped lower the customer's guard—and stoked their curiosity.
Ryōta looked determined. "Father, let me try it."
"Ryōta..." Kitahara Yūki looked at him with new appreciation. He'd never been fond of his second son, but today, the boy earned his respect.
Takuya watched the scene unfold with amusement.
They acted like his jars were deadly weapons.
Without hesitation, Ryōta reached out and touched the glow.
In that instant—
It sank into his palm.
Ryōta's body stiffened. He felt his arm warm up, and memories that weren't his flashed through his mind. A version of him swung a sword at a wooden post 1,400 times without stopping. His hand instinctively took a proper sword grip.
When he came back to himself—
He stared dumbly at his hand.
There—
Were blisters, fresh from training.
At first he was stunned. Then he swung his arm a few times—and his face lit up with joy and disbelief.
"Father."
He held out his blistered hand, eyes wide, showing off his form. He struck a perfect sword stance, fluid and precise.
It was real!
Kitahara Yūki took a sharp breath.
He knew his second son—weak in body, never trained, always buried in books.
But those blisters—
Were definitely new from sword practice!
And the fluid form—
How could this be possible?
Shocked and overwhelmed, Kitahara Yūki's scalp tingled. This was beyond comprehension.
Takuya smiled calmly, adjusting his already-perfect collar, and said softly:
"This is the magic of the jars. Inside are items beyond your imagination."
"So, shall we continue?"
His words snapped them back.
Kitahara Yūki looked at the remaining nine jars—
And suddenly felt a bit eager.
He had a gut feeling.
This might not be a crisis for the Kitahara clan—this might be an unprecedented opportunity.
He opened the next jar himself.
Inside... was a dagger.
"There are ordinary items too," Takuya shrugged slightly. "After all, this is just the cheapest tier."
Ordinary?
Kitahara Yūki held it in his hand—the cold, gleaming blade reflected his haggard face in the candlelight, and the sharpness stung his eyes.
This was a rare, deadly weapon.
And the blood grooves...
In his younger, wilder days, he'd killed his fair share—he instantly knew what those grooves were for.
"A fine blade," he muttered with awe.
"Please, continue," Takuya urged gently.
The cost of maintaining the mirror dimension was higher than the jars themselves.
He needed to sell twenty sets of tier-one jars fast and move on to tier-two.
"Yes!"
Kitahara Yūki had fully recovered from his initial fear. Now, his eyes showed both awe—and excitement.
Even his usually disappointing eldest son—
Had stopped shaking, staring at the jars with a mix of curiosity and desire.
Takuya could already see what would happen next.
From fear—
To curiosity—
To addiction—
And finally—
Bankruptcy.
One jar after another opened.
Inside were all sorts of fantastical items.
This batch—
Was part of the "Swordsmanship Series."
So he'd packed them with weapons, sword-training orbs, fragments of sword manuals—even a faint wisp of sword intent from a sword-immortal world.
Though faint and brief—
Even that tiny bit left all three men stunned.
They didn't grasp any real enlightenment—but they saw it.
A sword slicing through mountains and rivers.
Godlike power.
And when the ten jars were finished—
Takuya gave only minimal explanation.
Kitahara Yūki didn't hesitate—he immediately decided to buy more.
His eyes were already burning with obsession.