I Have An SSS-Rank Service System: Hire Me For Anything!-Chapter 9: Haggling With Barry

The customer collected the snack with a frown and turned it back and forth as if inspecting it. Then he turned to Dory with a raised eyebrow.

Dory smiled. "Ah, this is a delicacy made by the best of the best chefs where I live. It’s made with apple and tart plums. Very healthy and delicious. Come on, have a bite."

The man was doubtful, but he finally took a bite of the weird red and white snack. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he ravaged the remains of the snack like a hungry wolf.

Dory had woken up early, before Liam, and had used that period of time to purchase a [Lower Chef Package] for 400 Service Points. He would have purchased the higher ones if he had possessed thousands of service points.

With the package, he got five minor but still amazing skills, given he wasn’t even a real chef.

[Palate Calibration]: Ability to identify a person’s taste preferences.

[Ingredient Synergizer]: Makes cheap ingredients taste premium.

[Texture Mastery]: Perfects the "mouthfeel" of snacks.

[Rapid Prep]: High-speed chopping and mixing.

[Aroma Lure]: Boosts the scent radius of food.

The man chewed the snack slowly, his eyes narrowing. He swallowed, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and let out a sharp, cynical laugh.

"It’s a good plum, boy. Best I’ve had. But I’m a trader, not a pastry chef," he said, his voice dropping back into a hard, flat tone.

He gestured at the iron. "You’re asking ten coppers. The smith three rows down is selling for seven. I don’t care how many eagles you stamp on it or how much oil you rub into it... iron is iron. Once it’s in the furnace, the oil burns off and the stamp disappears. Why would I throw away fifteen coppers on a case just because you fed me a piece of fruit?"

Liam looked at Dory, his face paling. The magic trick had failed. The man was digging his heels in.

Dory didn’t blink. He had expected this. In his previous life, he’d dealt with boardrooms full of men exactly like this... men who knew the price of everything and the value of nothing.

"You’re right, sir," Dory said, leaning against the cart. "If you’re just buying weight, go to the man selling for seven. But let’s look at his ’seven-copper’ iron." Dory pointed toward the competitor’s stall. "It’s bog iron. It’s covered in rust. Do you know why that matters?"

The man crossed his arms. "Enlighten me." 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"Rust is an insulator. To get that iron to a workable heat, your smith is going to have to burn twenty percent more coal just to get through the oxidation. Then, he’s going to spend an hour per bar scrubbing it with a wire brush. That’s labor cost. That’s fuel cost."

Dory picked up one of his own ingots. "This is pre-buffed and passivated. It hits the forge and melts clean. No slag, no popping, no wasted fuel. I did the math. By buying my iron for ten, you save four coppers in coal and labor per bar compared to the ’cheap’ stuff. You are paying me a service fee to lower your production costs."

The man stared at the ingot. He was silent, his mind clearly running the numbers. He was a trader, and a trader lived for hidden costs.

"You’re a fast talker," the man muttered. "But I still have to transport this. If I buy from the other guy, I have more margin to cover the horse’s feed."

"Then let’s split the difference," Dory countered immediately. "Nine coppers if you buy a single bar. But if you buy the whole honeycomb case of five? I’ll give it to you for forty-five coppers total. That’s nine per bar, and you get the custom-fitted wooden crate for free. You can resell the crate for two coppers at the next town. Your net cost per bar effectively drops to 8.6 coppers."

The man paused. He looked at the honeycomb arrangement—how perfectly the bars fit, and how they wouldn’t rattle and bruise his horse’s flanks during the long ride.

"Forty-two," the man grumbled. "For the case and the fruit."

"Forty-five," Dory held firm, "and I’ll give you a referral. If you take this to the weapon-smiths in the North, tell them it came from the Eagle-Mark. If they like the quality, I’ll give you a five percent commission on any bulk orders they send back my way."

The man’s eyebrows shot up. A commission? No one in this market understood the concept of a long-term affiliate deal.

[Barry has signed the deal. Trust not fully earned.]

’Barry, huh? It has a nice ring to it.’

"Forty-five," the man finally grunted, reaching for his purse. "But if I find one bubble of slag in these bars, I’m coming back for your tongue."

Liam let out a breath he’d been holding for three minutes. He watched as the man counted out forty-five coppers, the metal clinking with a heavy, satisfying sound.

Liam immediately packed the ingots and the snacks for the man. Before the man rode away on his horse, Dory stopped him.

"By the way, sir, if you’re going out of the city, you might want to stop at the first village... ah, they might be out of the snacks since they immediately sell out, but they have other snacks you’ll be willing to spend your money on. When you get there, just ask for Maya and you’ll be directed."

Barry nodded and rode away on the horse.

Dory scratched his head. "That didn’t do much. Argh, Maya would be so disappointed. Tsk tsk. That’s not a very slick way to woo a girl, Dory."

Liam heard him muttering to himself and scowled. "Have you finally run mad?"

Dory turned to him and saw he was already adding the money to the ten coppers from this morning, making it a total of fifty five coppers. He did not use the multiplier yet.

’Let’s wait until evening.’

He then smiled. "Ah, have I ever been sane before? We just made fifty-five coppers from two customers. Tell me, do sane traders do that?"