Road to becoming the wealthiest: Starting From Treasure Hunting in the Cabinets
Chapter 976 - 537: What the Hell is This Thing?_3

Chapter 976: Chapter 537: What the Hell is This Thing?_3

But for those families who had no toys at home to entertain their children, these items were still very attractive.

Those with a little spare cash would take a look, perhaps buying one or two items for their kids.

"The vendor says these are upscale toys made in China," Zack translated. "A lot of people want to buy them."

Sean Knight then reminisced about the early 1990s when many people would export large quantities of low-quality clothing and light industrial products from China to the Outer Northeast.

The crudely made goods were popular at first, after all, the Russian industry was poorly developed.

However, due to quality issues, they eventually tarnished the reputation of all Chinese products, leading to a long period where they were synonymous with inferior goods.

"These are all poorly made," Sean told Zack. "They break easily. In our country, if these were found, they would be confiscated and destroyed.

Even if they were to be sold, it would be very cheap. The total value of everything on these stalls probably wouldn’t exchange for one rifle!"

"That cheap?" Zack couldn’t believe his ears. "He’s selling them for three pieces, equivalent to a rifle!"

"Even with freight added, it can’t be that expensive." Sean hadn’t included the taxes, these goods most definitely weren’t shipped in through Customs normally.

Though Zack now knew the price of these items, he didn’t go up to scold the boss.

This was a seller’s market, where people willingly entertained the situation, and certainly, no one else would intervene.

After making their way through most of the market, Henry Rogers finally found what he was looking for.

In the northeast corner of the marketplace, an elderly person, wrapped up so tightly only two eyes were visible, had a stall.

Displayed on the stall were several small clay figurines, two pieces of clay tablets with inscriptions, a roll of parchment, and a small pile of copper coins.

There weren’t many people in front of the stall, and no one was inquiring about the prices.

Sean walked over and squatted down, asking, "How much for these items?"

He could tell, the youngest of these items was the roll of parchment, which was at least three hundred years old.

Zack quickly translated.

"One bag of food for each type," the Elder indicated the price.

"Are you crazy, how could they be worth that much?" Zack didn’t wait for James Ross to reply, already scolding the Elder. "All of these together aren’t worth a single bag of food!"

"He’s a foreigner, he knows the value of these items!" the Elder insisted stubbornly. "These could fetch a high price abroad!"

"Impossible!" Zack, not wanting their esteemed guest from the Tribe to be fleeced, countered, "You could find a large amount of stuff like this just by searching any ruin in the mountains! These are essentially worthless!"

The Elder glared at Zack angrily, feeling betrayed.

However, he noticed that Zack didn’t look the slightest bit guilty.

Clearly, Zack truly didn’t know the potential value of these items.

"Then, all of these for one bag of food, that’s the lowest I’ll go," the Elder said dejectedly.

Zack translated the Elder’s words to Sean and said:

"You really don’t have to exchange anything. If you want, I could find you a whole lot of this stuff."

"Let’s make the exchange," Sean said. "Consider it an act of charity."

He could tell that the Elder suffered from severe malnutrition.

If he couldn’t make an exchange this time, he probably wouldn’t survive much longer.

And this Elder wasn’t someone uneducated like Zack.

Sean guessed that before the War, he was either a scholar or someone who worked at a temple or looked after a historic relic.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to make such a statement.

Zack gestured to one of the tribal residents guarding Sean with a rifle, who immediately ran towards the pickup truck and came back with a bag of food.

The Elder looked at the bag of food, then at his stall’s items, seeming reluctant but eventually gesturing to make the exchange.

But the bag of food was at least thirty to forty kilograms, which the Elder had no way of carrying away himself.

Seeing the unfriendly stares of those around him, Sean said to Zack:

"Send two people to help him take the food back."

The Elder didn’t refuse. He stood up, gave Sean a look, then glanced at his stall’s items, and finally left the place, walking unsteadily away.

Zack packed up the items from the stall, wrapping them in cloth, and Elijah Hastings took them in his hands.

He knew that since the boss had made a purchase, the value of these items must have been significant.

Having covered the entire market, Sean spotted a few stalls that surprised him.

For instance, one stall sold high-powered weapons.

Individual missiles, heavy machine guns, mortars, and more.

While the business wasn’t booming, there was still a sizable audience.

Looking at the brand-new weapons, it was apparent the seller must have found an old American armory, much like Hassan and his group.

Another stall had various gemstone roughs displayed. Sean opened his sky eye and saw a mix of real and fake.

He picked out and bought all the genuine ones amidst the embarrassed laughter of the vendor.

These could be sold for three to five times their value on the international market.

But here, they weren’t worth much.

Of course, such days were likely coming to an end. After all, peace had reached the area, and more people would be coming to seek their fortune, naturally raising the prices of these value-holding items.

As Sean approached Hassan’s pickup truck for the return journey, he noticed that the items Hassan had brought were almost sold out.

The two tribal residents who had taken the Elder’s food back to his home had not yet returned.

After Hassan was filled in on the situation, he waved his hand declaring, "Let’s head back, they’ll find their way back to the tribe themselves."

And so, several pickup trucks departed the marketplace with a grandeur, heading back to the tribe.