SSS Ranked Merchant: Rebuilding a Broken Kingdom With Unlimited Wealth-Chapter 17: Bad Adults

If there was one thing Lyrasia had noticed in her short, but eventful time in this village, it was that absolutely no one seemed remotely disturbed by the fact that she, a mere few-week-old baby, was casually strolling around like a seasoned adult.

Not a single soul batted an eye at her eerily precise motor control, her lack of baby wobbles, or the fact that she could, you know, talk in full, coherent sentences.

Was this some kind of cultural thing? Were medieval folks naturally this clueless?

No, that couldn't be right.

These were the same people who set women on fire for the heinous crime of literacy.

So why was everyone acting like this was normal?!

'Ah well, this isn't even my original world anyway...' Lyrasia shrugged, kicking a stray pebble. She had to be aware that this was a game world.

As she wandered through the village, taking in her strange new surroundings, she did notice the occasional odd stare. But at this point, they were just mildly intrigued, not outright horrified. After all, she was already the town's hottest gossip—The Genius Baby Who Walks and Talks!

"Oh, what an adorable little thing!"

"Look at those tiny wittle toes!"

Lyrasia shuddered. 'Revolting.'

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to find some logical explanation for all of this. 'Well... a game would be pretty boring if you had to wait actual years to grow up before doing anything,' she reasoned. It made sense. If they wanted to make this some kind of virtual reality experience, why would they force players to spend a full childhood drooling on themselves before they could actually play?

Still... did they have to call her tiny toes cute?

"Hey, I have this livestock. Take it. Need that pair of shoes."

"No problemo!"

Deals were being thrown around left and right, someone always had something to trade.

Chickens for grain, fabric for firewood, even an old fishing net for a homemade pie.

It was a chaotic, yet oddly efficient, system of organized bartering.

Lyrasia came to a sudden stop in the middle of the road, her baby-sized arms crossed as she surveyed the scene.

"This village... is so..." she squinted at a man trading a whole goat for a sack of potatoes. "Underdeveloped."

From what she observed, they were running purely on a bartering system. No coins, no standardized prices.

Bartering worked by people swapping goods and services directly. A farmer might trade fresh vegetables for a baker's bread. A craftsman might exchange a handmade tool for a warm winter cloak. Simple enough.

And sure, it kind of made sense.

She had no idea just how poor this kingdom was, but this village was clearly in the middle of nowhere.

No major trade routes passed through, meaning very few people here had even seen money.

The population was small, so everyone probably knew each other by name.

They produced almost everything they needed locally, which explained why they were basically living in their own little economic bubble.

"I can't just yeet my money onto the ground. That'd be way too suspicious..."

If there was one thing Lyrasia despised, it was throwing money at people who didn't deserve it. She wasn't some saintly philanthropist. She was far from it. In her eyes, people needed to earn their keep.

Secondly, money wasn't something to toss around like confetti.

Humans were inherently flawed, greedy little creatures, and if there was one lesson she carried from her past life, it was that sudden wealth made them worse.

And lastly? If she handed out too much, her money would lose its value.

She wasn't about to pull a Mansa Musa, the legendary Mali emperor who crashed economies by handing out too much gold. Unlike him, she had to be stingy. Selfish, even.

Because at the end of the day, wealth wasn't about generosity, it was about control.

"What?! You want ten of my precious eggs for one measly apple? Do you have any idea how hard my chickens work for those?"

"You should know by now, apples don't just magically fall from the sky! Unlike your chickens, these take years to grow, and they need proper care. These aren't just some measly grains!"

A full-blown shouting match had erupted in front of a market stall. One man clutched a basket of eggs like they were his firstborn children, while the other, a fruit seller, held his apples with the same level of reverence.

Lyrasia blinked. She never thought she'd witness the day when even the bartering system had inflation.

But if there was one basic lesson in economics, it was this: Not all things have the same value—supply, demand, and necessity decide who wins and who gets scammed.

"Oh, don't you lie to me!"

"Look, I'm just trying to make a fair trade here!"

"FAIR TRADE?!"

Maybe she should've just minded her own business. She was tired—tired of people, tired of nonsense, tired of anything remotely related to the economy. She didn't want to relive past mistakes.

...Right?

"Hey, you."

"Huh?"

The fruit vendor looked around, confused. Seeing no one, they glanced down—only to spot her. Their eyes squinted, then widened. They rubbed them, clearly wondering if exhaustion had finally made them hallucinate a talking baby.

"S-Sir, can I buy an apple?" Lyrasia blinked up at him, all wide-eyed innocence.

"W-Why, yes, of course..."

"Child, don't buy from this man!" someone interjected.

"Oh, shush and leave my stall if you can't offer me something equal to my effort!" the vendor snapped back.

Lyrasia sighed. She hadn't wanted to resort to this, but desperate times... She pulled out one gold coin—just one. Her parents did earn some money as farmers, so having at least one gold coin wasn't unrealistic.

"Here you go, sir!" She beamed, offering the coin.

The fruit vendor practically froze, then started drooling. "Gold?" His hands trembled as he eagerly handed over one apple.

"Wait!"

"H-Huh?"

"Sir, do you know how long people have to work to earn a single gold coin? A year, at least. Soooo... give me every apple you have."

"Sure thing!"

Lyrasia blinked. Wait. That easy?

Before she could ponder further, the other man—clearly not over his anger—stepped forward, fist clenched.

"You're actually trying to scam a child?!"

WHAM!

Lyrasia barely processed what happened before the fruit vendor was suddenly soaring backward, landing with a spectacular crash against his own stall. Apples flew everywhere. People gasped. Someone screamed. A chicken flapped wildly out of nowhere.

The vendor groaned, rubbing his jaw. "Ow..."

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Lyrasia's eye twitched. "I... I have to stop this..."

She sniffled. Then, she let the crocodile tears flow. "S-Stop! I don't like fighting!" she whined, voice wobbling as she wiped at her (totally fake) tears. "Here! Just take the gold, mister!"

The fruit vendor—though slightly concussed—chuckled to himself. He still got away with every apple sold, after all.

Meanwhile, the man who had nearly been scammed now looked incredibly guilty as he helped her carry the basket of apples. He kept sneaking glances at her, shame written all over his face.

"I... I'm sorry, little one," he murmured.

"It's okay, mister!" Lyrasia smiled sweetly. "Everyone eventually gets what they deserve."