Sss level Talent :The Infinite Hivecurse

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The moment Ethan stepped through the doors of Darunhua again, the same shopping assistant from yesterday lit up like a lightbulb.

He had underestimated Ethan the first time and regretted it ever since. There was no way he would make the same mistake today.

Before Ethan even crossed the threshold, the assistant greeted him eagerly. "You're back! What would you like to check out today?"

Without waiting for a reply, the assistant added, "You must've worked hard leveling up today. Come, let me take you to the lounge. You can enjoy a cup of tea and take your time choosing."

This little performance had been rehearsed all night. The assistant was determined to make Ethan feel at home at Darunhua.

But Ethan was a bit puzzled by this sudden warmth. He raised an eyebrow. "Can't I drop by without buying anything?"

The assistant reacted quickly. "Of course! Even if you're just passing by, please stop in for tea. You're always welcome."

It's hard to turn away from a smiling face, so Ethan didn't argue further. He said straightforwardly, "Actually, I'm here to sell something today."

"Absolutely! Our Darunhua guarantees competitive prices. Let me take you to one of our private reception rooms."

The assistant led him to a private space so Ethan could take out his items without anyone else watching.

Once Ethan sat down, the assistant poured him tea and said, "Please, show me what you have to sell. I can give you a price estimate."

Ethan calmly took out all the gear he'd collected today—seven bronze-grade weapons and all the bronze-grade monster materials—except for one silver-grade long knife, which he chose to keep.

The gear, when laid out, looked quite ordinary to the untrained eye. Since the assistant had never gone through a class change himself, he couldn't assess their true value. But when he saw a towering pile of 50 'Bronze-Grade Sandworm Skins' stacked high as a person, he froze in disbelief.

That many skins meant Ethan had single-handedly killed at least 50 sandworms—a feat practically unheard of, especially for someone who had just changed jobs yesterday.

Earlier that day, another rookie had come in trying to sell two pieces of gear. He'd been battered, bruised, and barely walking. The assistant remembered scanning those two pieces—basic whiteboard items—and offering a recovery price of 800 coins. The rookie had limped away, still smiling like he'd won the lottery.

Now, Ethan was sitting calmly with dozens of high-grade materials.

The assistant retrieved a special device used for customers who hadn't completed a class change and started scanning.

Hiss~

All seven weapons were confirmed to be bronze-level—not a single whiteboard or common item.

At first, the assistant had wondered whether Ethan was selling on behalf of a group or team, but when Ethan immediately agreed to the recycling policy—offering 90% of the purchase price—it became clear the items were all his.

If he had been acting for a team, he would've negotiated harder.

From there, the assistant switched into full professional mode.

Even within bronze-grade gear, values could differ drastically. A weak bronze weapon might go for a few thousand coins, while a well-crafted one could be worth tens of thousands.

The assistant wrote out a detailed list with prices for each item, including the worm skins, which even varied by size and condition.

When he pushed the final number across the table, Ethan—who would normally haggle over a single coin—took only a quick glance.

Over 180,000 credits.

"Fine by me. I trust your professionalism," Ethan nodded.

He was impressed. Every item was priced precisely, even the insect skins. This assistant, he thought, was way more trustworthy than the bearded driver he'd dealt with yesterday.

"All right," the assistant replied with a grin. "I'll process the transfer now."

"Hold on," Ethan stopped him. "Let me take another look at the materials."

Grabbing the catalog tablet from the assistant, he immediately scrolled past the bronze section and went straight to gold-grade materials.

Why? Because bronze was no longer worth his time.

Even the "Venomous Fire Ant Queen", which hadn't been upgraded yet, would be strengthened using silver materials at minimum.

That's why Ethan didn't sell the remaining 17 silver-grade desert worm skins—he had plans for them.

But still, with over 180,000 coins in hand, he didn't yet have enough to buy a single gold-grade item, most of which were priced at 200,000 and above.

Still, he looked anyway.

This time, Ethan was more focused. When he helped evolve the rebellious skeletal creature—known jokingly as the "Anti-Bone Boy"—he realized something important.

He had previously tried matching materials based on elemental types like soil or wood. But now he understood it was the traits of the materials—like armor penetration or explosive power—that mattered more than the element.

He eventually locked in on one item:

"Gold Grade: Purple-Gold Bear Claw."

The bear was a symbol of raw strength, and the claw's natural armor-piercing trait was perfect for the Anti-Bone Boy's evolution.

Problem? It cost 260,000.

He was still 80,000 short.

Ethan wasn't about to dip into the principal's emergency fund again.

Instead, he pulled out four more silver-grade desert worm skins and offered them up.

"Add these to the deal," he said. "See if that's enough for a trade."

The assistant scanned the new materials. His eyes went wide when the scanner confirmed they were silver-grade.

Then he looked at the item Ethan was pointing at—the gold-grade Purple-Gold Bear Claw.

The assistant's brain almost short-circuited.

Just an hour ago, he'd helped a limping rookie sell two junk items for 800 coins.

Now Ethan, on his first full day post-job-change, was negotiating to buy 260,000-credit materials.

In his ten years of working at Darunhua, he'd only ever seen such high-value items handled by managers or VIP clients.

Freshman gap? More like freshman chasm.

His own wages were only 200 credits a day.

But after today—and especially with Ethan coming two days in a row—the commissions he'd earned were approaching professional-level income.

Acquisitions came with a commission.

Sales came with a commission.

At this point, the assistant had a thought: Maybe I could become a manager one day... with Ethan's help.

"Of course, of course! Let me run the numbers. There should even be some leftover!" he said excitedly.

In that moment, the assistant decided Ethan was his god.

If I hadn't had a daughter…

No—maybe I should go home and have more daughters. Who knows, maybe one of them will be lucky enough to marry someone like Ethan.

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