I Sell Bottled Water for Gold in Another World!

After talking to Lucy's family and visiting the warehouse, Alex had an excuse to make a break for it. He went back to the warehouse, then teleported again to Earth.

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At his tight little rental apartment in Mumbai, Alex arched his arms above his head and yawned. His back cracked from too many nights on that lousy mattress.

He picked up his phone, scrolling through food delivery apps.

"Biryani or butter chicken? Oh, screw it! it will be both," he growled, ordering.

His gaze flashed to the little velvet pouch lying on the table — the new jade necklace and bracelet he'd purchased from that old city. He stroked his thumb over the smooth surface, feeling the cool stone against his skin.

"Wonder what these will get me this time…"

He shook his head, a smile creeping up onto his lips.

"Too bad that old trader didn't hang around. If he'd lingered, I'd have sold out his entire inventory."

But no use complaining now.

He'd done quite well till now.

Step one: sell these lovelies.

Alex scrolled to Rishi's number and pressed the call button.

"Hello? Alex?" Rishi picked up immediately, voice cheerful.

"Hey, busy? I've got a couple more pieces and better than last time."

There was a shocked silence on the other end.

Then a crashing thud, as if someone had dropped their phone.

"Wha-?!" Rishi exclaimed. "Alex, kidding right? Is that good as that last bracelet?"

Alex laughed.

"Not messing. You'll see when I come over."

Rishi smiled and lowered his voice to a whisper in secret.

"Bro, you know what my dad sold that last one for, right? Some Dubai collector snapped it up for ₹2.3 crore. We made nearly ₹20 lakh profit in one afternoon! And you've got better?!"

Alex leaned back against the wall, smirking.

"Something like that. Be ready — I'm driving over in 20 minutes."

Rishi's tone turned respectful, almost reverent.

"Alex, don't say another word — I'll get fresh Darjeeling brewed. Dad's also at home. He'll want to see this for himself."

"Perfect," Alex replied. "See you soon."

He hung up just as the delivery man rang the bell. He opened up the steaming biryani box and breathed in the spices.

Thus, Alex attacked his food, a smile playing on his lips.

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After dressing and taking a quick splash, Alex was set to leave.

But as soon as he yanked the door open, he almost collided with a middle-aged lady sporting tight curls and clutching a phone. She stood squarely in front of the doorway, refusing him exit.

It was Mrs. Lata, their landlord for this old rental complex.

Alex stopped in his tracks.

"Mrs. Lata? Is something the matter?"

She folded her arms and shot him that all-too-well-known stare.

"Alex, recall the match I reminded you of last week? Have you thought about it at all? You're not young anymore, you know! When I was your age, I already had two kids disrupting the household."

Alex emitted a sheepish laugh. "Mrs. Lata, I had just graduated from college a couple of months ago…"

She disregarded that totally and moved in closer, ensuring he couldn't push past her. For the last few months, she'd been the perfect landlord anyone could hope for — no security deposit, no drama if the rent was overdue, even sending him food now and then when he looked run-down.

But there was one thing that made him lose it: she was adamant on marrying him off.

Each time she cornered him in the corridor, she'd return to the same subject — a nice girl she knew, a niece of someone, a neighbour of someone's cousin — all seemingly perfect for him.

"Listen, if you go on a blind date now, you'll have time to learn about each other. Perhaps within a year or two, you'll be ready to settle down. It's good planning!"

Alex stroked his hair, not being able to laugh out loud.

He'd never been able to refuse her flat, not when she'd treated him so nicely.

Mrs. Lata wagged her finger at him for emphasis.

You're tall, you look all right, you're a nice boy and if I had a daughter, I'd marry you myself. But unfortunately, I've only got my useless son who can't even get clean socks from his own drawer."

Alex held up both hands in defeat. "Please, Mrs. Lata — I genuinely have to go. I'm meeting a friend, it's urgent. Can I please go?"

But she stood her ground, feet braced like stone in the corridor.

Then finally, Alex let out a deep sigh and surrendered. He couldn't help but grin at the way she looked so serious. "Fine, fine. I promise. Just send me the time and details. I'll go."

Mrs. Lata's face immediately brightened up.

"See? Was it that difficult? Now I don't have to run after you like this anymore!"

She quickly took out her phone, opening her gallery.

"I'll give you her number. She's my sister's daughter. Very fair, does HR, travels for work, goes to the gym — very modern, very sensible."

Alex's eyebrow went up; he was hard-pressed not to chuckle. "Do you have a picture?"

"Of course!" She shoved her phone at him. Alex leaned forward — only to be presented with a small kid smiling, front teeth missing, in a superhero T-shirt.

"Is this… the girl?" Alex asked, totally caught off guard.

Mrs. Lata yanked the phone away from him, embarrassed.

"Oh no,that's my grandson. Wrong picture. Hold on, I'll text you the actual one."

She smiled, obviously pleased with herself, and patted him on the arm like she was sending her son off to school.

"You're making the right decision. I want some good news real soon and don't let me down!"

She stepped out of the way finally, and Alex was left half giggling, half bracing himself for whatever he'd just committed to.

He locked his door, shook his head, and grumbled to himself as he made his way downstairs.

"Next time I choose an apartment, I'm asking if the landlord's a closet matchmaker first…"