FFF-Tier System, SSS-Rank Wife

"Phew!"

Selia stretched out her arms, keeping them extended as far out as her body allowed before letting them slowly fall back to her sides.

"Finally, it's over!"

I didn't comment much, not at all because those movements made her chest bounce in quite the loving way, stealing my attention and gluing my eyes to a place they probably shouldn't linger. No, not at all.

"I hope that's the first and last time we had to go through this!" she added, giving me just enough context to realize what I'd missed while being a little too distracted.

The shed behind us was finally empty. The smell of sweat, leather, and stale breath still clung to the air, but the constant chatter, shuffling boots, and nervous questions had finally died down. The sun outside had long begun its descent, streaking the yard with hues of orange and pink. The whole day was gone, devoured by endless introductions and negotiations.

I let myself slump down onto one of the chairs we'd used for the interviews, resting my elbows on my knees. "You say that as if it wasn't worth it."

Selia shot me a glare, though there was no real bite behind it. "Worth it or not, talking to the same sort of nervous adventurers over fifty times in a row is hardly my idea of a good day."

I couldn't argue with that. Still, I couldn't help the small grin curling at the corner of my lips. "At least we didn't come out empty-handed. Three high-ranking adventurers, eleven middle ones, and twenty-three… well, let's call them 'middling.'"

Selia crossed her arms. "You mean low-rankers."

"I mean," I corrected smoothly, "the kind of people who are too proud to be called low-rankers but too weak to pretend they're anything else. Middling."

Her lips twitched despite herself. She hated when I got smug, but I could always tell she liked it more than she admitted.

For a while, we sat in silence, listening to the faint sounds of the town filtering in through the gaps in the wooden walls. My thoughts drifted back to one particular group—the very first high-ranking adventurer we'd spoken with.

The way he caught the hidden meaning whenever I added one, was quite damn memorable. One of the rare, actually interesting moments to happen throughout the day.

"I liked that first guy, from that high-ranking party" I muttered. "Smart one. He caught onto the hints I left about where the coffee comes from. He didn't say it aloud, but you could tell. He put the pieces together."

Selia's gaze snapped to me. "Are you really sure that was a good idea?"

Her tone was sharper than usual, carrying an edge of genuine concern. She leaned forward, silver hair spilling across her shoulder. "You've practically told him you're not from this world. If that news spreads, it will inevitably reach the ears of the Plenarian command. Do you really want to paint a target on your back so quickly?"

I shrugged, leaning back and lacing my fingers behind my head. "By the time any news reaches beyond this town, I'll be too rich for them to touch me." A grin spread across my face before I could stop it. "And while I don't want to sound ungrateful, conceited, or entitled—"

"You're about to anyway," she deadpanned.

"—would they really dare to raise their hand against me with you by my side?" I finished, tilting my head toward her with the most self-satisfied look I could muster.

Selia blinked. For a moment, her lips parted as if she had a retort ready. But then she closed them again, studied my face, and let out a small laugh. It was genuine, soft, and just a little exasperated. She shook her head.

"While I'm not as important or powerful as you make me out to be, you're right," she admitted at last. "They wouldn't dare. Not even because of my power but…"

"Because of the sway you hold in this town," I completed. "And once the coffee starts to bring money here…"

I let my voice trail off, already smiling to my own thoughts. I could see it so clearly—merchants returning with their purses heavy, spreading tales of some new addictive luxury. The town swelling with coin. Adventurers arriving from further and further away to join my little venture.

It was just the beginning, but beginnings had power.

Selia must have seen the gleam in my eyes, because she rolled hers in response. "You're already counting your coins."

"Not coins," I said with a shake of my head as I rose from my seat. "Steps. Every coin is a step closer to where I need to be. And right now, I'm bleeding coins, not earning them yet."

While it was pretty damn obvious, I was tapping beyond my daily percentages of what my charcoal business could bring. In fact, even with all my savings included, I still needed to ask Greg for help… Or, in plain words, I had to ask him for a loan to finance this whole thing!

She sighed, but I caught the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips before she turned away.

We left the shed behind, stepping out into the cooling evening air. The streets were quieter now, though small clusters of townsfolk still lingered outside the taverns, voices carrying in low, tired conversation. The inn Greg had recommended wasn't far, and the promise of ale was enough to put a spring in my step.

Inside, the warm, smoky air smelled of roasted meat and spilled beer. A burly man waved us over from a corner table—our scheduled meeting.

Yet another instance when Greg came in clutch, hooking me up with just the kind of man I absolutely needed for my plans to have any hopes of ever succeeding.

He had the look of someone who had lived half his life haggling and the other half drinking. Wide shoulders, thinning hair, eyes sharp as daggers despite the mug in his hand.

"Saintess," he greeted with a respectful nod as Selia slipped into the seat across from him. Then his eyes flicked to me. "And you must be the one she keeps talking about."

"That depends," I replied, sliding into my own seat beside Selia. "What exactly has she been saying?"

"Nothing good," he said with a grin, though the glint in his eyes told me he wasn't a fool.

The innkeeper brought us three mugs of beer without even asking, and I wasted no time downing half of mine in one go. After yapping away for an entire day, a cold one wasn't a gratification, it was a necessity. Only after wiping the foam from my lips did I lean forward, resting an elbow on the table.

"I'll get straight to it," I said, pulling out a small pouch from my bag and placing it on the table. The bag sagged heavily with its contents. "A small test run. Enough roasted beans to make the rounds with the kind of people you know."

The merchant raised an eyebrow. He loosened the strings, peeked inside, and whistled softly. "Doesn't look like much."

"It doesn't need to," I said smoothly. "When you meet the summoned, prepare them a drink with this. Grind the beans, brew it right, and let them taste it. Once they do, you'll understand why I'm not worried about price."

He frowned, rolling the pouch in his hands, weighing it. "I've moved spices from the south, silks from the east, even gems smuggled through the desert routes. Every one of them had a market. A reason people wanted them. What's this got?"

I merely offered the man a smile.

"For locals? A fun, new taste. For the summoned ones? Let's call it a taste of home."

The merchant looked at me. Then, his eyes turned over to the Saintess before slowly moving back to me.

He didn't doubt my word — not with Selia backing me up — but he was clearly running numbers in his head. "Suppose it does catch on. You're giving me one pouch. If demand spikes, I'll have people tearing down my door asking for more. And what do I tell them then?"

"That you're the only one who can get it," I said without hesitation. I leaned forward, lowering my voice just enough to make it sound conspiratorial. "That you're the gatekeeper of something no one else can provide. That's not a problem, that's leverage."

His jaw tightened. "Leverage gets you enemies."

I shrugged. "So does being poor."

That earned me a sharp laugh, the kind of sound a man makes when he doesn't want to admit he's impressed. He took a swig of his beer, then gestured with the pouch. "And what's to stop me from keeping this little bag for myself? Or selling it in a different town, cutting you out of the deal?"

Selia didn't move, didn't raise her voice, didn't even look up from her mug. But the way her presence filled the space between us was enough to make the man's words falter halfway through.

I smiled. "Greg connected us either because he knew you wouldn't do so, or..."

I turned my head and gave Selia a short glance before slowly turning my eyes back to the man.

The merchant froze, then barked another laugh, more nervous this time. He glanced at Selia again, and she gave him nothing but silence. That was all it took. He sighed, tightened the pouch again, and tucked it under his arm.

There was no need for threats.

I knew he wouldn't run. He knew I would put a bounty on his head if he did.

Cheating the other party was the last thing either of us had an interest in doing.

"You're a dangerous pair," he muttered.

"Better dangerous than powerless," I said, raising my mug in a mock toast.

He shook his head but clinked his mug against mine anyway before downing the rest. Without another word, he stood, gave Selia a respectful bow, and made his way toward the door.

I leaned back in my chair, watching him go. A grin tugged at my lips. "And that's how everything begins."

Selia rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but the hard part is still ahead of us."

"True," I admitted, swirling the beer in my mug. "But that's from tomorrow on. Gathering supplies, preparing to leave, organizing everyone…" I shook my head. "That's all work for tomorrow."

Selia tilted her head. "And tonight?"

I turned toward her, letting a slow smile spread across my face. "Tonight?" I chuckled. "Let's just say that after the last time, I'm done holding back."