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how to do business. And all the while being more condescending than a person who’s read a book and is talking to someone who only watched the movie.

It wasn’t like I had any other choice though. If I rejected his offer, I’d have to wait until another crafter with his skills moved closer to New York. And judging by his behavior, if I rejected him, he would either hold a long grudge or would ask for something like a seventy-thirty split if I was forced to go back to him later, if not something more outrageous than that.

But that didn’t mean I’d let him have it his way either. What he was proposing was a partnership and, at least in Cosmos, partners didn’t only share profits but expenses too. If he wanted us to be equals on the pay-out, we’d have to be equals on the pay-in as well.

“I don’t like the terms one bit,” I said between my teeth and took my own turn standing up, “but I am willing to give it a try. However, you can’t expect me to invest my money into this while you reap the benefits. I would consider splitting the net profits equally if you match my investment in materials and expenses. I won’t be the fool in this relationship.”

The dwarf regarded me from top to bottom. I wasn’t sure if he was thinking about fighting me or not, though with our difference in levels, he wouldn’t need more than a few seconds to knock me out. But I sure as hell wasn’t just going to sit there and be taken advantage of.

“Are ye always walking around, talking like that?” he asked in a tone that was more disarming than aggressive.

“Like what?” I asked, failing to calm myself down.

“Like ye got something to prove.”

I had nothing to prove. To anyone. And especially not to a shady-looking dwarf whose only goals in life were probably to drink a sea of whiskey and craft enough gear to outfit an army. What a presumptuous bastard, thinking that he could understand me or even half of what I’d been through. I guessed dwarf life must be a lot simpler. Simple enough to develop a habit of judging other people.

“Do you agree to match whatever I invest in materials and let me be responsible for scaling?” I asked, completely disregarding his previous question.

The dwarf stood up again, brought his hand in front of his mouth, and spat into his palm without taking his eyes off mine.

“Ye got yerself a deal, half-Celt,” he said and extended his open hand toward me.

Of all the gross macho shit I had seen in movies, why did this one have to be common practice when dealing with dwarfs? Not wanting to show any further disrespect, I followed his example and spat in my open palm as well, all the while thinking about how I was going to soak my hands in bleach afterward. We clasped hands firmly in a way that would surely have triggered a montage if my life were a film. The sound even made Louie flinch.

“Well then, let’s talk business,” the dwarf said and sat back down. “What do ye want me to craft? I hope it’s not potions or something of the sort. Carrying them is such a hassle.”

“Arrows. We’re taking over the steel arrow market,” I explained. “The current price is much higher than D and E-grade arrows, so it’s only really people using C-grade bows that purchase them. But if we can drop their price to match those of lower grades, or even only just slightly higher, there won’t be a reason for D-grade or even E-grade users not to purchase them as well.”

“True enough. Steel arrows are harder to break too so they can be reused. But what makes ye think ye can drop the price so much?”

“Arrow-ready stems are pretty specific and best purchased directly from the marketplace,” I said as I leaned forward to make my plan sound even more genius than it already was. “Steel, on the other hand, is plentiful and cheap in the Cosmos.”

“Good luck finding someone to clear it for use in the Apocosmos,” Rory chuckled. “Not that it’s a bad idea, especially for a beginner such as yerself. But even if ye get to speak to someone, the cost will make the whole thing a waste of time. And to think I really believed we might—”

“It’s been taken care of,” I said, cutting him off.

“What do ye mean, half-Celt?”

“I got a person who’ll clear it for me. And it won’t affect the pricing.”

“Well, well,” the dwarf muttered, and a smile started to form on his lips. “When do we start then? Me hands are itching to create some arrows!”

“Batches are sold in scores,” I explained. “So for every twenty arrows, we need four stems, which roughly costs forty dollars if we buy them at their lows. Steel costs less than a dollar per two pounds, which is enough for—”

“A shitload of arrows!” he exclaimed. “I don’t know how ye did it, but this is some great deal ye got going on. Keep it that way.”

“I will,” I said and nodded. “So I was thinking of starting with forty thousand dollars’ worth of materials.”

“And forty more from me,” he continued, already rubbing his hands together. “Buy the materials and deliver them to my place.

“I don’t know your address and…,” I said, but before I continued my train of thought he interrupted to put my mind at ease.

“I’ll send you my address. And I know ye’re probably worried about buying materials with yer money and sending them to me,” he said and I simply nodded. “I’ll transfer ye my forty thousand so ye can start purchasing with me own capital.”

“Aren’t you worried, though?” I asked seriously.

“Why would I be?” he said, between bursts of laughter. “I know where ye live. And if ye’re anything like the other Celts or Olympians I know, ye’ll honor yer word.”

“I will,” I said as I

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