Outpost 404 was buzzing like a kicked hornet nest.

Dante walked through the heavy wooden gates. The [Crimson Edge] was sheathed comfortably across his back.

He kept his head down and blended into the massive sea of low-level players crowding the dirt streets.

Every single person was talking about the same thing.

"Did you see the announcement?" a guy in a dirty linen tunic shouted to his friend near the central fountain.

"An Iron-tier boss! Already! We are barely scratching these boars, and some guy named Dan is out there dropping World Bosses!"

"I checked the leaderboards," a girl nearby chimed in. She frantically scrolled through her holographic interface.

"He is Level 10. The next highest player on the entire server is only Level 4. It has to be a beta tester. Or some rich kid who bought a legacy account."

Dante ignored the chatter.

He navigated through the muddy alleys and headed directly for the merchant sector on the west side of the village.

He needed to resupply.

The basic health potions the system had provided were completely empty. His stamina was hovering dangerously low after spamming Zenith-tier skills.

Even with the Mana-Leech ring, raw physical exhaustion still required consumables to fix.

The merchant stalls were packed.

Players were waving coppers and silver pieces. They tried to buy whatever overpriced garbage the NPC vendors were hawking.

Dante sidled up to a stall displaying a variety of glowing red vials.

The NPC behind the counter was a bald and remarkably life-like man wearing a leather apron.

According to the Zenith Protocol marketing, the NPC running these shopkeepers was highly advanced. It was capable of dynamic pricing, holding grudges, and reacting naturally to player behavior.

"Welcome to my humble establishment, Outworlder," the merchant said. He offered a practiced and artificial smile. "Potions to mend your wounds, poultices to soothe the aches. What do you require?"

"I need a Basic Health Potion," Dante said. He tapped the wooden counter.

The merchant nodded. "An excellent choice. That will be three copper coins."

Dante opened his inventory. He didn’t have any copper.

He had completely ignored the low-level coin drops from the Crag-Boars. The death of Thorne had only yielded silver.

He pulled out a single shiny silver coin and slapped it onto the counter. In the economy of the game, one silver equaled exactly one hundred copper.

"Here," Dante said. "Keep it coming."

The artificial smile of the merchant faltered slightly.

The NPC reached down beneath the counter and rummaged through a small wooden lockbox. The sounds of clinking metal echoed for a few seconds.

The merchant popped back up and looked apologetic.

"My deepest apologies, Outworlder. It seems the sudden influx of your kind has depleted my small change."

"I do not have exactly ninety-seven copper coins to provide your change."

"That is fine," Dante said reasonably. "Just give me the potion and ninety-five copper. Keep the two as a tip."

The merchant froze. His eyes actually darted left and right to process the request.

"I... cannot do that," the NPC replied. His voice took on a slightly strained and robotic edge.

"The stated price is three copper. The item has a fixed value. Accepting a higher value without providing exact change violates the fair-trade economic parameters of the Zenith Protocol."

Dante raised an eyebrow. "I am literally telling you to keep the change. It is a tip."

"Tips are not an authorized transaction category for essential consumables in a designated safe zone," the merchant stated. He pushed the silver coin back across the counter. "Please provide exact change, or I must refuse the sale."

Dante stared at the NPC.

The Zenith Protocol was built on a foundation of absolute and cosmic rules. The system despised imbalance.

If a player was cheated by an NPC, or vice versa, the logic loops of the system would trigger immediate corrections. This was to maintain the integrity of the game world.

It was designed to prevent early-game exploitation.

But a rigid system was an exploitable system.

Dante crossed his arms. He stared the NPC dead in the eyes.

"I want to buy the potion," Dante said loudly. "I have provided valid and system-recognized currency. Are you refusing to sell me a basic survival item because of your own inventory mismanagement?"

The left eye of the merchant twitched. "I am not refusing the sale. I am requesting exact change to maintain the economic equilibrium."

"I do not have exact change," Dante shot back. "And I am not leaving without my potion."

"By the laws of the Zenith Protocol, an open stall must engage in commerce if a player provides sufficient funds. I am providing sufficient funds."

The NPC was visibly struggling.

The hands of the merchant gripped the edge of the counter tightly. A small bead of digital sweat rolled down his bald forehead.

The programming was locked in a paradox.

It had to sell the item because valid currency was offered. But it couldn’t complete the transaction because doing so would result in an unbalanced trade value. This violated its core coding.

"Please, Outworlder," the merchant said. His voice dropped to a desperate whisper. "Just go break the silver at the blacksmith. It will take two minutes."

"No," Dante said flatly. "I am a customer. I am right here. Process the transaction."

"Error," the merchant muttered. His eyes briefly flashed a stream of green code. "Transaction cannot be completed. Transaction must be completed. Imbalance detected."

Dante leaned on the counter. He was thoroughly enjoying himself. "I have all day, buddy."

A loud and mechanical chime suddenly rang out from the sky above the Outpost. It was distinct from the usual global announcements.

[System Alert: Economic Logic Paradox Detected in Sector 404.]

[Resolving imbalance to prevent localized vendor crash.]

A beam of golden light shot down through the roof of the merchant stall. It struck the wooden counter directly between Dante and the sweating NPC.

The silver coin vanished.

In its place sat the Basic Health Potion, alongside a small and intricately carved crystal vial. The vial was filled with a swirling and glowing green liquid.

The merchant let out a massive sigh of relief. His rigid posture instantly relaxed.

"The transaction is complete. The system has balanced the deficit. Thank you for your patronage, Outworlder."

Dante smirked and scooped up the items. "Pleasure doing business with you."

He walked away from the stall. He ducked into a quiet alley behind a row of player-owned tents.

He leaned against the wooden wall and opened his inventory to inspect the compensation of the system.

He expected a handful of mid-tier crafting materials or maybe a slightly better potion.

He didn’t expect this.

[Item Appraised: High-Grade Vitality Elixir]

[Tier: Gold]

[Description: A master-crafted alchemical substance. Permanently increases the base HP pool of the user by 5,000. Grants a permanent passive effect: recovers 1% of Max HP every 10 seconds. Can only be consumed once.]

The jaw of Dante actually dropped.

A permanent 5,000 HP boost!

At Level 10, his base HP was sitting at a fragile 800. This elixir would instantly give him the health pool of a Level 40 tank.

The passive regeneration effect alone was worth a fortune. It completely negated the need for basic health potions outside of heavy combat.

The NPC of the system had tried to calculate the value of the two "lost" copper coins of Dante against the potential damage of a logic crash.

It panicked and compensated him with a late-game consumable just to make the error go away!

"I need to argue with retail workers more often," Dante muttered.

He popped the cork on the crystal vial and downed the glowing green liquid in one shot.

It tasted like mint and raw electricity.

A rush of intense warmth flooded his veins. His muscles felt denser, and his breathing was deeper.

His health bar in the corner of his vision expanded violently. The numbers ticked up so fast they blurred.

[Vitality Elixir Consumed. Max HP increased by 5,000.]

[Passive Regeneration Acquired.]

Dante flexed his hands. He felt entirely untouchable.

He had the damage of a Zenith-tier monster. And now he had the health pool to back it up if he ever actually managed to get hit.

He pulled the Iron-tier boss chest out of his inventory and dropped it in the dirt alley.

It was time to see what the Ironfang Alpha had really left him.

If the raw stats of the boss were any indication, the loot was going to be completely game-breaking for this stage of the cycle.

He tapped the lock on the chest. The heavy iron lid popped open with a hiss of pressurized air.