Hu Tao Is Monetizing My Existence. [146]

“A sword? What sword?” Jiang Bai perked up instantly.

If Cartis mentioned a sword even as his soul was about to fade, it definitely wasn’t just any ordinary blade.

“A greatsword forged from Starsilver.”

“Wait—that one?”

Jiang Bai immediately thought of the blade mentioned in the memory shown in the domain—the one the princess had commissioned, then given to the warrior.

The domain hadn’t shown what became of that warrior, so Jiang Bai had no idea whether he’d ever made it back.

But from the way Cartis was speaking now… it seemed Hu Tao’s story might not have been so far off.

The warrior had returned. Only—too late.

Whether he had found a way to revive the white tree, that was still unclear.

Probably not, Jiang Bai thought.

After all, if there really had been a way to heal the tree, this mountain wouldn’t have remained frozen and lifeless for over a thousand years.

“That’s right. It’s that sword,” Cartis nodded.

The Starsilver-forged greatsword was still inside the secret chamber where the princess had once painted her murals.

Even after all these centuries, the blade that had once carried the hopes of an entire kingdom still gleamed as brightly as ever.

But Cartis had never touched it.

It remained just as it had been—planted in the center of the chamber.

To keep others from taking it, he’d sealed the room away.

Now that he was guiding Jiang Bai, retrieving it wouldn’t be a problem.

With Cartis leading the way, they headed to the ruined capital of the ancient kingdom, where the blade had been left behind.

This had once been the kingdom’s abandoned royal city. Naturally, the sword was buried beneath its ruins.

Following Cartis’s instructions, Jiang Bai activated a mechanism, revealing a hidden path deep within the remains.

They followed it inward until they reached a stone chamber, its walls covered in murals.

The murals had waited here for over a thousand years—for someone, anyone, to find them.

Jiang Bai only gave them a passing glance. His attention was quickly drawn to the greatsword embedded in the floor.

The blade was a deep blue—darker and more profound than the translucent greenish-blue of something like the Skyward Greatsword.

Its hue was like the twilight sky, deep and still.

The hilt was designed with a cross-pattern, ideal for gripping with both hands. The guard resembled a pair of wings—elegant and deliberate.

The Starsilver shimmered faintly in the dim light of the cave, casting a ghostly glow.

With a weapon like this before him, Jiang Bai found it impossible to look away.

Cartis’s lingering soul hovered beside the sword, eyes filled with complicated emotion.

“Go ahead—draw it.”

“Alright!”

Jiang Bai cracked his knuckles, positioned himself before the sword, and gripped the hilt. With a firm pull, the blade slid out effortlessly.

As it left the ground, it let out a clear, ringing hum—like it was rejoicing at seeing the light again.

The sword wasn’t overly heavy, but as a two-handed weapon, it still had a satisfying weight when held with one hand.

Jiang Bai stared at the blade, which gleamed with a cold, silvery brilliance. He was completely enamored.

He wasn’t particularly skilled with greatswords, but a weapon this fine—he had to learn how to use it properly.

He made up his mind: once they got back, he’d start training in greatsword techniques. No way was he going to waste a weapon like this by just swinging it around clumsily.

Hu Tao, who’d been examining the murals, finally turned her gaze to the sword in Jiang Bai’s hand.

Even by her standards, this was a remarkable blade.

But she wasn’t short on weapons, and she wasn’t petty enough to fight her own lackey for one.

“Does it have a name?” she asked Cartis.

Among the three of them, Cartis knew the most. If anyone had the answer, it would be him.

Cartis stared at the sword for a long time, as though trying to remember something across a gulf of centuries. At last, he spoke, voice distant, almost dreamlike:

“It’s called Snow-Tombed Starsilver.”

He didn’t know how he knew the name.

But the one who had last placed the sword there… had called it that.

This was once a sword of hope.

But in the end, it brought no hope.

Like the ancient kingdom itself, it lay buried beneath the snow, full of regret.

And now, the sword was in someone else’s hands. That story—its chapter—was over.

So was Cartis’s.

“Heaven and earth show no barrier; where funerals pass, misfortune shall not follow…”

As Cartis’s form began to fade, Hu Tao softly chanted the funeral song.

Bright and solemn, her voice carried his soul safely past the threshold—beyond the mortal realm.

“Director, he’s gone,” Jiang Bai said quietly.

“Mm.” Hu Tao gave a small nod, one more task in her heart laid to rest.

“Take care of that sword,” she added.

Even if Cartis had only brought them to one treasure, its value was anything but ordinary.

“Will do, will do!” Jiang Bai nodded like a bobblehead, barely containing his glee.

There was only one sword. Not two. That meant he could claim it fair and square—no need to split!

But he celebrated too soon.

Hu Tao’s devilish voice sounded beside him:

“We agreed to split any treasure fifty-fifty. But since there’s only one sword, we’ll just convert it into Mora at market value.”

“This sword is worth, oh… at least a few hundred thousand Mora. But I’ll give you a friends-only price. Let’s say… 10,000 Mora.”

Jiang Bai’s face instantly collapsed like a deflated balloon.

He had exactly 10,201 Mora to his name. Director Hu was basically robbing him blind…

“C’mon, pay up!” Hu Tao tilted her chin and held out her hand expectantly.

“Director, that’s way too expensive…”

“Too expensive?” Hu Tao’s eyes widened in mock outrage, drawing out the last syllable.

“If we’re talking full market value, you’d owe me at least a hundred thousand! I’m only asking for ten thousand. And that’s expensive?!”

Jiang Bai: emmmmmm…

…She kinda had a point.

“But…” he tried one last protest.

“No buts! Just take a few extra jobs, run a few more errands—Mora’s easy to earn.”

“You might not have money now, but once we finish this job, you’ll get paid. You think I won’t pay your wages?”

Jiang Bai had to admit, what she said made sense. Still, poverty clung to him like a shadow, and he couldn’t help but make one last plea.

“Can’t you just deduct it from my salary…?”

“Absolutely not,” Hu Tao shot him down instantly.

“Why not?”

“Because if you’re broke, you’ll stay motivated to earn. Only when you don’t have money will you keep striving for Mora!”

Hu Tao—capitalist overlord and motivational expert—had done her research on how to drive her employees to peak performance.

Hands on her hips, she clapped the air twice in front of him, motioning for him to hurry up and pay.

Defeated, Jiang Bai pulled out his coin pouch and reluctantly counted out 10,000 Mora.

His wallet was now utterly empty—except for three sad little coins rattling at the bottom.

Holding the now paper-thin pouch, Jiang Bai wept internally.

At least Director Hu has a conscience… She left me with 201 Mora for pocket money.

—

T/N: heh capitalist hu tao

This is a fan translation of 胡桃拿我冲业绩 by 余溯. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!