CHAPTER 54: CHAPTER 53: GRAND OPENING

The morning mist still clung to the cobblestones of Ginip’s southern quarter when the first whispers began. Word had already started to spread the previous day—through posters placed in crowded areas of the city, and via messenger pigeons that fluttered across districts with neatly rolled flyers tied to their legs. The bright, crisp parchment announced a new kind of store opening at the southern gate.

KAELMART

Now Open!

Food – Tools – Items – Curiosities

20% Grand Opening Discount

Prices Fair. Selection Rare.

By midmorning, a crowd had formed.

Old women with cane-bound baskets stood beside grizzled hunters, and children tugged at their mothers’ sleeves, eager to peek inside. Even a few merchants from the inner market had come down to investigate, lured by the rumors of a foreigner selling "miracle goods" in a building that looked far too pristine for its neighborhood.

Kael stood behind the glass-paneled door, staring at the crowd.

He swallowed hard.

"This many already?" he muttered.

Behind him, Seris adjusted the neckline of her tunic and flicked a speck of dust off the countertop. "There are at least seventy people out there. Maybe more. You did want attention."

"Yeah," Kael said, half-laughing, half-dreading. "Just didn’t think we’d get it this fast."

The sign on the door flipped with a soft click.

OPEN.

Kael barely had time to blink before the crowd surged forward.

They didn’t exactly rush—people in Ginip weren’t the panicked-stampede type—but curiosity burned bright in their eyes, and the energy was infectious. The first wave of customers entered cautiously, like Adventurers stepping into a long-sealed dungeon. Then more followed, and within minutes, the store was filled.

The soft clack of boots on tile, the rustle of cloaks brushing against polished wooden shelves, and the murmured conversations created a living hum that filled the space. Kael took a deep breath.

This was real.

He was running a supermarket—in a medieval fantasy world.

Most of the visitors didn’t know where to look first.

The open layout, the brightly labeled aisle signs in multiple languages, and neatly packaged goods—it was unlike anything the townspeople had ever seen. In this world of hand-wrapped produce, cloth sacks, and butcher-wrapped meat, Nexus Mart was an alien marvel.

A man with soot-stained gloves picked up a can of preserved stew and held it to the light, squinting at the printed label. Beside him, a woman in an apron touched the foil-sealed snack packs with two fingers, as if expecting them to bite.

"What is this?" she muttered.

Kael said with a friendly smile, stepping in, "That’s dried fruit. Sealed for freshness."

The woman raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Fruit? From where? It doesn’t even smell like anything."

Kael grinned and tore open a sample packet. "Here. Try a piece."

The woman hesitated, then popped a slice into her mouth. Her eyes widened slightly as the flavor hit.

"By the gods... that’s real fruit?"

Kael nodded. "Just preserved a little differently than you’re used to."

Seris manned the counter with quiet precision. She handled each transaction with practiced grace, her eyes sharp as a hawk’s—missing nothing. No customer left without paying, not with her watching.

Coins clinked into the collection box as she counted each one with swift fingers, recording the amounts in a neat, handwritten ledger.

On the other hand, Kael had expected some hesitation. What he hadn’t expected was fear.

Several customers looked at the shelves as if they were filled with artifacts rather than groceries. One elderly man refused to touch a jar of pickles, believing it might be just for nobles.

"It’s not that expensive," Kael told him gently. "Look—price tag says only 20 copper. With the 20% discount, that’s just over 16. That’s less than the cost of a mid-grade wine at the market. And this will last you days."

The man blinked. "You can afford to sell it that cheap?"

Kael nodded. "I can. And I want to. Besides, if you buy three things, you get a free gift."

He pulled out a neatly stacked box and held up a matchbox—his first ever item sold in this world.

"Free fire, in your pocket," Kael said with a grin.

The man raised an eyebrow. "How?"

Kael struck one match, let the flame dance for a second, then blew it out. "Just clever design."

That sealed the deal.

Word spread fast. By noon, dozens had come and gone, and more still poured in. Farmers. Blacksmiths. Tailors. Even a few city guards on break. The novelty was too much to resist.

And the freebies? Oh, people loved the freebies.

A woman bought a bundle of canned vegetables and squealed when Seris dropped a free matchbox into her basket. "I can light my stove without flint? This alone is worth more than what I paid!"

Kael wiped his brow as he restocked shelves. He was sweating, exhausted, and beaming.

He’d made over 1,000 silver coins in one morning—even after discounts and giveaways.

By afternoon, the local merchants started showing up—not as customers, but as spies.

Kael caught one of them eyeing the rows of glass jars. Another circled the checkout counter three times, likely trying to figure out how Seris kept track of all the sales without shouting prices every time.

He greeted them all with a smile.

Let them look. Let them wonder. He wasn’t here to replace the market. He was here to change how people thought about trade.

By sunset, the rush began to slow. The sky outside turned pink, and the last few customers trickled out. Kael flipped the sign on the door to CLOSED, then leaned against the wall and let out a long breath.

"It’s a busy day," Seris said simply, handing him a bottle of juice.

Kael opened it, took a sip, and nodded. "Not bad for our first day."

He glanced at the money drawer. Packed.

"You know," he added, "back home, stores would run ads, offer coupons, do holiday sales—all just to get a crowd like this."

Seris blinked. "What’s a coupon?"

Kael chuckled. "A slip of paper that gives you a discount."

She gave him a long, slow look. "So... like what you already did?"

"Exactly."

She shook her head in disbelief. "Your homeland is terrifying."