Gloom City Ruins.
A special zone that opened up around Naldun Town in the Constanterna Empire in my previous life.
Its origins supposedly traced back hundreds of years to the Era of Holy Grace.
It had originally been an underground fortress built by the ancient Hollain people to escape the outbreak of war.
But for some unknown reason, every last resident vanished one day without a trace.
All that remained was an empty city.
The few Hollain who managed to escape had all gone mad.
They rambled endlessly about bizarre things, as if they’d witnessed something utterly horrifying before they lost their minds.
Setting that unsolved mystery aside, after the Gloom City Ruins’ residents disappeared, the Constanterna Empire sealed the area off.
Over time, it turned into a kingdom for all sorts of underground creatures.
It was around this time in my previous life that the empire finally opened it up.
They issued quests, calling on adventurers to head in and wipe out the surging hordes of monsters.
The Gloom City Ruins were divided into nine layers.
The first six were underground caverns.
The seventh and eighth were the inner and outer cities built by the Hollain.
The ninth was the site of their holy sacrifices, and it seemed to hold clues to their disappearance.
Monsters on each layer fell into ten-level ranges.
Layer one had monsters from level 10 to 19.
Layer two from 20 to 29.
And so on, until layer seven started spanning into the 30s.
By layer nine, you’d even find monsters over level 160.
On the surface, it sounded like a standard progressive leveling spot.
But it was anything but.
Each layer was massive, packed with elites and bosses.
And the monsters there dropped crystals of varying grades.
You could trade those crystals at the entrance to the Constanterna Empire’s quartermaster for matching-tier sets.
All of them were top-notch for their level.
Among the redeemables was a special badge.
It counted as its own equipment slot.
Its stats upgraded based on the number of monsters you killed inside the Gloom City Ruins.
At max level, it rivaled a dark gold weapon of the same tier.
All that had turned Naldun—a town that barely got any foot traffic before—into a total hotspot once the Gloom Dungeon opened in my previous life.
“Sure enough, it’s this.”
I spotted several threads on the Constanterna Empire’s forum boards all buzzing about it.
I zeroed in on the details.
“Opens in two days, huh?”
No wonder the player count in Naldun had spiked.
Most were prepping for the Gloom City Ruins.
As for the guilds, they were probably eyeing the elites and bosses inside to farm some guild rep.
I’d been planning to focus entirely on the Trial of the Radiant Chapter.
But this Gloom City Ruins thing had me pretty intrigued.
Part of it was that in my previous life, I’d only ever heard about it.
Never actually gone in to see that masterfully crafted underground city for myself.
But that was just one reason.
After all, it was a level 70-80 thing—way too early for players at our stage.
What really had my attention was something I’d recalled by chance.
In my previous life, a certain forum post had mentioned a hidden space on layer six of the Gloom City Ruins.
The poster claimed they’d gotten a powerful item from there.
At first, the post hadn’t gotten much traction.
But later, more and more people discovered the secret door on layer six.
The original poster was eventually doxxed as a top-ten mage on the Constanterna Empire’s rankings.
He had a record of solo-wiping entire hundred-man raids.
A lot of people suspected that the experience described in the post was what kickstarted his later glory.
But what few knew was exactly what kind of encounter he’d had in there.
By sheer coincidence, I’d been there when that mage took on the hundred-man raid in my previous life.
After witnessing that kind of power, I had a pretty solid guess.
Whatever was in that hidden space had to be a holy relic.
Just from the attributes and skills on theæ‚ ä¹…ä¹¦åº“, even a damaged one gave players an insane boost.
A complete holy relic would be on another level entirely.
Something that powerful couldn’t fall into anyone else’s hands.
Otherwise, I’d be the one eating the loss in the end.
“Perfect timing since I’m already in Naldun.
In two days, I’ll head in and see if I can snag it.”
The sixth layer of the Gloom City Ruins had level 60+ monsters.
But with Kai and the others along, getting down there should be doable.
I’d have to scope things out once it opened and plan from there.
Speaking of the Gloom City Ruins, though, something else popped into my head.
“Right. The glowstone lanterns!”
The Gloom City Ruins were underground, with almost no natural light sources.
So you had to bring your own lighting when you went in.
But torches drew way too much monster aggro and put you in serious danger.
Luckily, someone had discovered that glowstone lanterns solved the problem perfectly.
Naturally, the price of those lanterns shot up later on.
Since the Gloom City Ruins hadn’t opened yet, I could stockpile a bunch of glowstone lanterns now.
Make a quick buck and ease the growing deficit at the Demon King’s Castle.
No time like the present.
I immediately dragged Satahia over to the exchange next to the central square.
But when I searched for glowstone lanterns, I ran into something unexpected.
Empty.
Or not exactly empty.
The second one got listed, it was snapped up in a flash.
I couldn’t even react.
You guys must go through tissues like crazy at home.
I couldn’t help but gripe.
But that wasn’t the point.
“There’s definitely something fishy going on here.”
Before people figured out their use in the Gloom City Ruins, glowstone lanterns were just some alchemist-made lighting gadget.
You could swap them out for torches no problem.
So the current situation was all wrong.
Someone was camping the exchange.
And it looked like a lot of someones.
Were multiple guilds already onto the glowstone lanterns’ potential?
No way.
In my previous life, right when the Gloom City Ruins first opened, tons of Constanterna guilds had made total fools of themselves over the torch issue.
I remembered that part vividly.
I frowned, thinking back to the butterfly effects I’d already caused.
After a moment, I reopened the forums.
Sure enough, I found several eye-catching threads in no time.
These posts cited a bunch of Naldun-related history books, all proving how useful glowstone lanterns were in the Gloom City Ruins.
One even went out and tested it.
These guys must’ve gotten rejected by girls their whole lives.
Their good guy cards could fill a whole warehouse.
I pursed my lips.
But I wasn’t about to give up.
I shifted gears and started brainstorming.
“How can I get those guilds to dump the glowstone lanterns they’ve got?”
My old Barenna Underground Fortress trick probably wouldn’t fly.
The Gloom City Ruins weren’t a dungeon instance.
And I hadn’t prepped enough in advance.
If I couldn’t fool them, I’d just be burning a bunch of golden book pages for nothing.
“Since tricking them won’t work, what if I make them hand them over willingly?”
A lightbulb went off in my head.
One hour later.
“I mean, Demon King, is this really gonna fool those adventurers?”
Satahia propped her chin on her hands, watching me bustle around with the prep work.
She couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Watch your wording, Satahia.
We’re upright, harmonious, and kind three-good youths.
How could we do anything immoral?”
I gave the shelves a quick touch-up, then clapped my hands.
I eyed the slightly presentable storefront with satisfaction.
“Business is all about mutual consent.
I’m not forcing anyone.
And I’m not false advertising either.”
All of that was true.
But it wasn’t the important part.
“The real question is whether the adventurers will even show up, right?”
Even an idiot like Satahia knew that in a situation like this, you’d adjust prices based on market conditions to avoid getting stuck with unsold stock.
But she couldn’t wrap her head around why her Demon King wasn’t raising the buy price.
Instead, she’d slashed it below market rate.
Basically planning to scoop up glowstone lanterns at cost.
“Has the Demon King started treating adventurers like idiots?”
What she really couldn’t fathom was that if it weren’t for the imperial trade laws banning buys and sells below cost to prevent market disruption, someone would’ve dropped the price even lower.
I shrugged off her words.
“When the profit’s big enough, even the smartest person turns into an idiot.”
“If the glowstone lanterns they sell here can be bought back for even cheaper, don’t you think they’ll come rushing to offload them?”
Satahia blinked in confusion.
“Huh? But then the Demon King would be losing money on the buyback.
What’s the point of acquiring them at all?”
“There are plenty of upsides.
Like extending the exchange cycle.
Using the lanterns we acquire to flip for profit on the market and cover the gap.”
I gave a simple example.
It was basically like a bank’s interest spread.
The glowstone lanterns were the “deposits.”
The difference in price players got on each lantern before and after the buyback was the profit.
A bank could invest or loan that money to make more money.
In theory, the same applied here.
The catch was players’ habits.
There was basically no concept of a “cycle.”
Buybacks and resales happened almost simultaneously.
“Funds” couldn’t build up.
Investing was tough.
Even if you sold some for a profit, you’d need to buy those same lanterns back to cover the players’ “withdrawals.”
It looked like pointless busywork on my end, with money going down the drain.
But there were plenty of other methods.
Like the one I’d come up with—simpler, more direct, and way more brutal.
“So what’s the plan, exactly?”
Satahia had been listening in a daze up to now, but her curiosity was fully piqued.
I cleared my throat.
After stringing her along, I flashed a mysterious smile.
“Secret.
You’ll find out in a few days.”
I ignored Satahia’s resentful little-wife glare and moved on to finer adjustments.
Things like setting a daily acquisition limit.
Staggering the stall’s buy and sell hours to leave some turnaround time.
These were crucial to my plan.
Otherwise, a few players flipping back and forth could bankrupt me.
After briefing the hired clerks on minding the shop, it was time for the main event of the prep phase.
“Now, how to get people to notice this place.”
The storefront I’d bought was in Naldun’s commercial plaza.
Players passed through here all the time to grab items or gear.
Some even set up stalls.
But not many—stalls and shops here cost money to rent.
The cheapest went for a few dozen silver.
My spot, tucked in a quieter corner, had set me back three gold a day.
All because it was a proper storefront.
Satahia looked puzzled.
“If you want people to find it, why didn’t the Demon King open the stall in a busier spot from the start?”
“Because those players aren’t as easy to handle as you think.”
I shrugged.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to.
It was pure psychology.
With all my years of experience, how could I not know what players were thinking?
If I’d set the stall right in the middle of the square, normal players would’ve found it suspicious right away.
They’d be on guard.
But hidden in a corner like this?
They’d see it as a secret opportunity.
Just like the quests I’d had Syl or Triss post before.
It’d spark their interest big time.
So what I needed to do now was spread the word about this “hidden opportunity” in a natural way.
And fast—wide-reaching in a short time.
Posting a guide was one option.
But even though I’d formatted it like the Irresponsible Guide Team and dumped the money-making tricks plus a bunch of other strats onto the forums, I wasn’t holding my breath.
My fanbase was mostly built up on the Alwyn side.
Or rather, concentrated in the Gruin region.
No buzz meant no views.
And without that, not many would bother coming here to check it out.
“What else can get this stall exposed naturally and quickly…”
I chewed my nail, mind racing.
After a moment, I suddenly looked up at Satahia.
The idle flame demon lounging at the counter felt a chill run down her spine.
“Wh… what is it, Demon King…”
“How about we put on a little show together?”