Alpha Hayley’s Destined Mate

Chapter 104: Do You Know Anyone Here?

Hayley’s POV:

In the realm of rock betting, there’s a well-known saying: a single cut can either make you wealthy or leave you destitute; it has the power to alter your fate or send you spiraling into misfortune.

We stepped out of the vehicle and were met by two intersecting streets, bustling with shops and stalls showcasing an array of raw stones, each varying in shape, color, and size. As I explored this unfamiliar place for the first time, confusion washed over me, prompting me to ask, “Are we here to buy emerald ores?”

Benjamin nodded and replied, “Just come and take a look.” He guided me down the street to the right. Along the way, I noticed not only locals milling about but also some Westerners like us, their sharp expressions revealing their business-oriented mindset.

Stopping at a corner, Benjamin focused intently on a particular raw stone. “Go ask how much this one is,” he instructed.

I followed his lead and engaged in a conversation in fluent Mornant, but when I heard the vendor’s price, I was taken aback. “Eighty thousand for this piece of junk?!”

Raising an eyebrow, Benjamin inquired, “Is that 80 thousand in local currency or 80,000 dollars?”

“Dollars! They want 80 grand for this worthless rock? Anyone who buys it must be out of their minds.”

However, as soon as I voiced my disbelief, Benjamin declared, “I’ll take it. You go buy it.”

I stared at him, shocked. My role was merely to translate; the decision to purchase was entirely his. I swallowed the advice I was about to give him.

Turning back to the vendor, I negotiated fiercely, employing my bargaining skills and successfully reducing the price by five thousand dollars. We ultimately agreed on 75 thousand.

As I held the rock, I still struggled to comprehend its supposed worth, especially since I didn’t see anything particularly remarkable about it. I even had Hera give it a sniff, but she sensed nothing unusual. Benjamin, however, appeared unfazed and continued on his way.

Throughout the day, he bought four or five more rocks, each costing between 50 thousand and 200 thousand dollars. Watching him splurge made me wince for his finances.

“Mr. Benjamin, what do you intend to do with all these rocks?” I couldn’t help but ask.

Instead of responding, he glanced at the rock I was holding and said, “Let’s find a place to cut them open.”

We entered a nearby shop, and when I mentioned that we wanted to cut the rocks, a crowd quickly gathered around us. The shop owner approached me and explained, “You didn’t buy these raw stones from me, so we’ll need to charge a processing fee—one thousand dollars per rock.”

“Mr. Benjamin, are we proceeding?” I asked, and he retrieved his credit card to cover the expenses.

Seeing this, I handed the rock to the craftsman. As the crowd closed in, the rock cutter examined the rock and muttered, “Neither the pattern nor the color suggests it contains emerald,” before turning to me. “How would you like it cut?”

Before I could translate his question, Benjamin issued a direct order. “Start by cutting from the left side and create a cross-section.”

I conveyed his request, and the cutter began his work, operating the machinery with remarkable precision. Yet, the process was slow, requiring both steadiness and attention to detail.

After some time, amid the crowd’s eager anticipation, the first rock was discovered to be empty! Gasps rippled through the onlookers; I felt a pang of regret for the tens of thousands of dollars lost.

“Miss, do you want to continue?” the rock cutter asked. I glanced at Benjamin, and under his encouraging gaze, I replied, “Let’s keep going!” It wasn’t my money, after all!

The rock cutter resumed work on Benjamin’s raw stones, but after three more attempts, not a trace of emerald appeared in any of them. The crowd’s enthusiasm dwindled, and I sighed in defeat, but Benjamin remained unyielding as he regarded the final rock. “Let’s open this one too.”

I hesitated and gently suggested, “Mr. Benjamin, perhaps we should stop. We haven’t found any emeralds so far; if we keep going, people might laugh at us.”

Benjamin contemplated my words, scanning the crowd before asking, “Do you know anyone here?”

I was taken aback; in this foreign place, how could I possibly find someone I knew? I shook my head, and to my surprise, Benjamin responded, “Since we don’t know anyone, why worry about people laughing at us? Besides, even if we were embarrassed, no one would recognize us, so it wouldn’t matter.”

His reasoning had a certain logic! I realized I could learn a thing or two from Benjamin about developing a thick skin.

When the cutter saw we were determined to open the last rock, he said nothing further and placed it on the machine. The craftsman carefully ground the rock’s surface, but after only three minutes, Benjamin suddenly called out, “Wait!”

Confused, I turned to him and asked, “What’s the matter?