Duncan had anticipated Morris's reaction. He only brought up the topic to confirm his suspicions.

As his prior intelligence suggested, ordinary people like Morris knew nothing about the great fire. The sea of flames existed only in Nina's and his own memories.

Or, strictly speaking, the fire only existed in Nina's memory until he took over this body.

The topic was quickly dropped, and Morris didn't seem to find the strange question suspicious. He then told Duncan about Nina's studies and class, and inquired about Nina's family situation.

It was clear that the concerned old teacher had wanted to know these things for a long time, but Nina's uncle's terrible, degenerate life had delayed everything until today.

Duncan inherited limited memories from the body, and he wasn't clear on many of the old teacher's questions. Fortunately, he was quick-witted and able to cope with his existing memories and ample imagination. As for those he couldn't handle... he blamed his past颓废 lifestyle, alcohol, and promised to reform in the future...

He was experienced in "home visits" and knew the usual questioning habits and focus of teachers. Although he was now in a different world and identity, these experiences were still useful to some extent.

After these "serious matters" were finally discussed, Mr. Morris's attention, unsurprisingly, turned to his second concern.

The old man looked at the well-preserved antique dagger on the counter, and the eagerness in his eyes was obvious to everyone: "Is this... for sale?"

Duncan immediately smiled: "This is an antique shop."

Of course, the antiques in the antique shop were for sale.

He now understood that although the dagger came from the *Ghost Ship*, on careful reflection, selling it didn't seem to pose any hidden dangers. The *Ghost Ship* had plenty of items, not all of which were related to the supernatural. Something like this dagger would just be an ordinary antique elsewhere... What was there that couldn't be sold?

Compared to the pile of fakes in the store, the *Ghost Ship*'s cargo hold was a great way to make money!

With his thoughts straightened out, Duncan immediately felt relieved. He suddenly realized that he had been sitting on a treasure trove all along. Those things he considered junk were just treasures misplaced, waiting for wealthy and destined people to come along. Like the old Mr. Morris in front of him... wasn't he a destined one?

Morris, however, had no idea what the antique shop owner was thinking. His attention was entirely focused on the well-preserved dagger in front of him. After hesitating for a long time, he cautiously asked, "How much?"

Duncan: "..."

The world suddenly felt smaller because he didn't know how much to charge.

Even with the complete memories inherited from the body, he didn't know how much to charge. This shop hadn't sold anything real since it opened... and there was no standard price for antiques. He was a complete layman. What was a reasonable price to ask?

Duncan thought quickly, first ruling out the option of pricing it at two or three hundred thousand based on the price tags in the store. Because even if the dagger was real and in excellent condition, it was only a little over a century old. Also, according to the old man's earlier remarks, although such daggers from a century ago weren't abundant, they weren't unique either. Sailors at the time used them as utility knives... This meant its value was limited.

Relatively recent, not a unique item, with no special historical background, a modern product in excellent condition but with only moderate collector's and viewing value. The old man seemed to like it, which could slightly increase the price, but there was a limit to how much it could be raised. After all, he was Nina's teacher, and that relationship had to be considered.

Duncan pondered for a full circle, taking less than a few seconds in total. In the end, he shook his head with a smile: "You set the price, Mr. Morris. You're Nina's most respected teacher, and I really can't price it as I would for an ordinary customer."

He was well aware of the limitations of his knowledge. Trying to guess a reliable number at this point would be even harder than getting a goat's head to shut up for three days. Pricing it too high or too low would make him look incompetent. It was better to offer a way out and let the old gentleman help assess the value.

He believed Mr. Morris could probably guess his intentions.

As for whether he would lose out on this transaction... Duncan was quite open-minded.

It was a costless transaction, so how much could he lose? Being able to gain an unexpected income in his unprepared state, and also accumulate some experience and get to know a professional in the field of history, was actually a win-win situation.

Morris began to think seriously.

He wasn't thinking too much about it. Most of his attention was on the dagger at this moment.

"Three thousand... three thousand four hundred Solas, that's my estimate," Morris finally said, seemingly after much deliberation. "Mr. Duncan, you may think this price is a little low, but you have to consider the age of the dagger itself and its historical position... The depreciation of such non-unique collectibles in the market is very severe. Of course, its condition is very good, which is rare, but you also have to consider that not all collectors will be interested in it..."

The old man seemed to be trying hard to explain the reason for his price. While listening, Duncan's mind was already racing—

In the lower district, the total monthly expenses for an average family of three were only a little over two hundred Solas—and most lower-district commoners had little to no surplus in their monthly income and expenses.

This dagger was almost equivalent to a year and a half's income for an ordinary family in the lower district.

This was the value of a "real thing" here, and a "real thing" that wasn't even that valuable.

He didn't know whether to sigh at the antique business's "three years without a sale, one sale for three years" state, or to marvel at the astonishing gap between the lives of ordinary people in the lower district and the so-called "upper-class respectable hobbies."

Perhaps he should marvel at how rich this old man was.

"Deal." He took a light breath and said to the old man with a smile.

He didn't consider wasting time haggling.

In any case, this was a lot of money for Nina and him right now—reporting a cultist hideout wouldn't even get them this much.

He had been considering ways to make money not long ago, but now he realized that the matter didn't seem so urgent anymore.

The world was ever-changing.

Morris, however, felt that Duncan had agreed too readily, and he even felt a little apologetic because of it: "Actually... you're losing out on this price. At a normal valuation, considering the current number of surviving pieces and the condition of this dagger, it should be at least ten to twenty percent more expensive... but..."

The old man touched his nose, seemingly a little embarrassed: "I've been spending a lot on collecting antiques recently, and I'm a little short on hand..."

This old man was even more candid than Duncan had imagined.

"I think this is a good price, let's just consider the difference as 'fate'," Duncan said with a smile, then seemed to suddenly remember something, and got up to walk behind the counter, "Oh right, to celebrate this 'big deal,' I have a gift."

Morris watched curiously and expectantly, and saw Duncan take out a small amethyst pendant from a compartment behind the counter.

The old man had sharp eyes and saw at a glance that the label from a certain glass workshop hadn't even been removed from the pendant.

Morris: "..."

"A pendant with the effect of calming the mind and warding off evil spirits. The crystal has been blessed and can guide you in the right direction in illusions and curses. Ancient hypnotists used it to protect their minds and spirits to cope with the dangers lurking in the dream world," Duncan pushed the pendant over, his expression solemn, "It has protected generations of masters and is now destined for you..."

Morris hesitated and pointed to the pendant's label: "But this says 'Johnny's Glass Workshop'..."

"I know, I forgot to take it off," Duncan removed the label expressionlessly, "This is a gift. Where would I get so many real things in my shop to give away as gifts?"

Morris was stunned for a moment and couldn't help but laugh: "Well, that's true—thank you very much for your 'gift.' With this thing... I hope my daughter will nag me less."

As he spoke, he took out a checkbook from his arms: "I didn't bring that much cash with me—this check can be cashed at the Pland State Bank in the Crossroads District or the Upper District. Is that okay?"

Duncan smiled: "Of course."

As he said this, his gaze fell on Morris's check.

He had some doubts when Nina first mentioned her history teacher. After truly meeting Mr. Morris today, his doubts resurfaced.

Whether from his clothing, daily words and actions, or his expertise in history and文物, this old man was clearly not an ordinary person. Even without knowing the situation in the Upper District, Duncan could tell that a scholar like him should be in a university in the Upper District, not in a public school in the Crossroads District.

Even without considering other factors, there was an obvious question:

Could an ordinary public school history teacher so easily take out a year and a half's income for an ordinary person in the lower district to buy a collectible that just happened to catch his eye?