The shopkeeper completely freaked out now. He'd finally realized he might have encountered genuine psychopaths—people who operated outside the normal rules of society.

While activating his defensive skill, he created armor made of water element around his body. The liquid solidified into a translucent protective layer. At the same time, he drew the sword attached to his waist—a decent quality blade that he'd never actually used in real combat before.

He shouted desperately, empowering his voice with mana to make it carry further. The exit was on the other side of the shop, blocked by these lunatics.

"Help!!!" His voice cracked with genuine terror. "Help!!! They're trying to kill me!! Someone help me!"

But no response came from outside. The street remained silent.

Seraphine intentionally didn't attack, instead watching him try helplessly. She knew his voice wasn't going to reach outside thanks to Leon's barrier, but she wanted him to realize that himself. Let the despair sink in properly.

The man's eyes widened as realization dawned. Something is wrong. Nobody heard me. How is that possible?

He tried to run toward the window, thinking he could break through and escape or at least attract attention from passersby.

But Seraphine intercepted him effortlessly, cutting off his path. Then she began the thrashing she'd been itching to deliver since the moment he'd opened his mouth.

The man was fairly strong—probably around early Journeyman rank in terms of physical, but his elemental control was rather weak, which was respectable for a merchant. But he wasn't anywhere near her level. And her lightning element was the natural nemesis of his water affinity, though that barely mattered given the vast gap in their actual combat abilities.

The fight, if it could even be called that, lasted only a couple of seconds before he was helpless on the ground.

She beat him systematically, striking every inch of his body with controlled precision. She targeted his face most of all—the face from which he'd spoken those threats and leered at them with disgusting intent.

At the same time, she electrocuted him again and again. Not enough to cause permanent damage, but more than enough to ensure he'd remember this experience for the rest of his life.

He did beg. His pride crumbled quickly under the onslaught.

"Please! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!" His words came out broken, interrupted by gasps of pain and involuntary muscle spasms. "Please stop! I'll do anything!"

But she didn't stop. Not until she was content, not until she felt his apology was genuine rather than just desperate words to make the pain end.

With one final apology directed at all three of them—his voice a mixture of grunts and pain—he lay there crying. Tears mixed with blood from his broken nose streamed down his face.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" he sobbed. "Please don't kill me! I'll never—I'll never bother anyone again! I swear it!"

Seraphine was satisfied. She'd never answered his earlier pleading about not killing him because she'd never planned to take his life in the first place. She only wanted to teach him a solid lesson—one wrapped in the terror of uncertainty so he would remember it every day for the rest of his miserable existence.

Leon stepped forward, his expression calm as he approached the broken, sobbing man on the floor. He raised his hand, and a soft golden glow began emanating from his palm.

The shopkeeper's eyes widened slightly through his tears and blood. Someone with life element? That's not some random nobody ability...

Life element users were rare—incredibly rare. They were sought after by noble families, protected by powerful organizations, respected across all domains. This wasn't just any awakener standing before him.

The healing process began, and immediately the shopkeeper realized this wouldn't be a gentle experience.

As Leon's life energy flowed into his body, every broken bone began to mend. But the process forced him to re-experience the pain in reverse—feeling each fracture knit back together, every torn muscle fiber reconnecting, his ruptured organs reforming.

It was torturous.

Screams tore from his throat once again, his body convulsing as the healing magic worked its way through his system. His broken nose straightened with an audible crack that made him howl. His ribs shifted back into place one by one, each movement sending fresh waves of agony through his chest.

"Ahhhhh! It hurts! It hurts!" he screamed, his fingers clawing at the floor.

But Leon didn't stop. The golden light intensified, accelerating the healing. Within two minutes that felt like hours to the suffering man, he was completely restored.

The shopkeeper lay there panting, his body whole but his mind shattered by the experience. When he finally managed to look up at his three "customers," his expression had completely transformed.

"Thank you," he gasped out, his voice hoarse from screaming. Genuine gratitude mixed with profound fear etched across his features. "Thank you so much. I—I'm sorry for everything I said. Everything I did."

His hands trembled as he pushed himself into a sitting position, then immediately bowed his head so low it nearly touched the floor.

Leon's voice was calm and matter-of-fact. "I need three weapons."

He pointed toward two different types of long rifles displayed on the wall—each with slightly different designs, one appearing to be a longer-range variant while the other seemed built for closer combat. Then he indicated a handgun in the display case below them.

All three weapons were the most expensive items in the entire shop—top-of-the-line models with intricate mana arrays and premium materials.

But Leon didn't care about the price. He wanted quality samples to study.

The man understood everything instantly. There would be no more bullshit, no more condescension, no more games.

"Of course, sir," he said quickly, scrambling to his feet. His legs were shaky, but he managed to stay upright. "May I see your identification cards, please?"

His tone was completely different now—respectful, almost servile. He addressed them as "sir" and "miss" rather than the dismissive way he'd spoken before.

All three of them produced their bronze identification cards and handed them over.

The shopkeeper took them with trembling hands, carefully recording the information. As a silver ID holder, he had the authority to sponsor up to ten people for restricted weapon purchases. He quickly processed each weapon, attaching one to each of their identification records in the Union system.

"The total cost would normally be—" he began.

Leon reached for his coin pouch, ready to pay whatever was asked.

But the shopkeeper immediately held up his hands, his smile nervous but genuine. "No, no, please. There's no charge. Consider it... consider it my sincere apology for my earlier behavior."

Fear still lingered in his eyes, but there was also relief. Relief that he was still alive, still whole.

Leon studied him for a moment, then nodded once. He didn't insist on paying when the man was offering freely—that would be unnecessarily complicated.

He picked up all three weapons and, without ceremony, stored them directly into his spatial inventory. They vanished from his hands into thin air, disappearing into dimensional storage.

The shopkeeper's eyes went even wider, his face paling. Space element. He have space element too.

There was only one element that could do something like that—spatial affinity, one of the rarest and most powerful abilities in existence. People with that gift were often protected by kingdoms, recruited by the most powerful guilds, or became legendary adventurers whose names were known across domains.

He didn't say anything outright, but terror crept deeper into his heart. These people aren't normal adventurers. Those bronze IDs might be cover identities or something, but they're clearly far more important than they appear.

Maybe they were undercover royalty testing the city's merchants. Maybe they were powerful figures traveling incognito. Maybe they were something else entirely that he couldn't even comprehend.

Whatever the truth was, he knew one thing with absolute certainty: he'd nearly destroyed his own life today through his arrogance and greed.

"Thank you for your patronage," he managed to say, bowing deeply. "Please, if you ever need anything—anything at all—don't hesitate to return. I will personally ensure you receive the finest service."

Leon didn't respond, simply turned and walked toward the exit. Seraphine and Loriel followed close behind, neither sparing the shopkeeper another glance.

As they reached the door, Leon casually dispelled both the air barrier and the illusion he'd maintained around the shop. The sounds of the bustling street outside suddenly became audible again, and the shop's "closed" appearance faded away.

They stepped out into the afternoon sunlight, leaving the traumatized merchant behind.

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