Idle Tycoon System-Chapter 134: Giving back.

A woman with obvious injuries on her body emerged from the crowd. "Please, sir, my husband needs healing that normal potions can’t provide. Our household has been affected by the growing attacks of demons, please..."

Noah’s mind raced through the implications as more people gathered around his shop entrance. His reputation had apparently grown during his absence, creating a customer base he hadn’t expected.

Lola watched the human crowd with fascination. Her expression suggested amusement at the cultural differences in shopping enthusiasm.

"I do have healing bread and iced tea available," Noah announced, his voice carrying over the growing crowd.

Noah walked back into his shop and emerged with a loaf of bread.

The woman’s face brightened in happiness; she knew that the bread was by no means cheap. "Thank you, thank you so much! We will never forget this favour of yours!"

Noah nodded.

"Do you have anything you can give me for this bread?" He asked, although he wasn’t sure if she did.

The woman’s hands stopped moving towards the bread. She had thought it was an act of kindness from his side, but after asking for golden coins, she realised it wasn’t.

Her shoulders drooped visibly. "I-I don’t have any golden coins, sir."

Noah shook his head at her response. "I never asked for golden coins, I’m asking for anything. Anything you can give, even if it’s a pebble on the street."

I want to gain shop points whilst also helping her. A transaction is considered a transaction, no matter the price.

The woman nodded excessively, rummaging through her pockets with trembling hands.

After a few seconds, she found a small button she had found on the floor the other day.

"Does this work?" She asked, extending her hands with the button on her palm.

"Yes, that works," Noah smiled, taking the button from her hand and exchanging it with the loaf.

"Thank you, sir! I will never forget your kindness." She smiled before leaving the place and heading to her injured husband.

...

Others began approaching with desperate steps, hope written across their faces. Word had spread through the human settlements about a shopkeeper whose products could heal injuries that conventional medicine couldn’t touch. And with him finally back, they rushed towards him like flies when they see food out in the open.

An elderly man hobbled forward on a wooden stick that he used as a crutch, his leg bearing obvious signs of poorly healed wounds. "Sir, please. The demon attacks left me unable to work. My family is starving because I can’t provide for them."

Noah studied the man’s condition with perception that revealed malnutrition alongside his injuries. The bread would help both problems simultaneously.

He needs healing and nutrition. Two problems, one solution.

"What can you offer?" Noah asked gently.

The old man’s face fell with embarrassment. "I... I have this." He produced a worn leather cord from his pocket, the kind used to tie simple bundles.

"It’s not much, but it’s all I have."

"That works perfectly," Noah smiled, accepting the cord and handing over a golden loaf. "Thank you for your business."

Noah had no issue doing so. He gained shop points whilst providing help to those in need. In his eyes, it was a win-win transaction.

The man’s eyes filled with tears as he clutched the healing bread like sacred treasure. "Bless you, sir. Truly bless you."

A young mother approached next, carrying a child whose arm hung at an unnatural angle. "Please, my daughter fell during the evacuation. The bone won’t set properly."

A broken bone that healed incorrectly. The bread should be able to correct that.

"What do you have to trade?" Noah asked, already knowing he’d accept whatever she offered.

The woman reached into her bag and produced a handful of wildflowers her daughter had picked before the injury. "She wanted to give these to someone kind. Will they work?"

Flowers from an injured child. How could I refuse?

"Absolutely." Noah accepted the small bouquet with a ceremony befitting their emotional value.

He took a small sniff of the makeshift bouquet before smiling. "These are beautiful, they smell really good."

The pattern continued as more desperate families approached. Noah established prices based on each person’s circumstances rather than arbitrary monetary values. A farmer’s handful of seeds bought healing for infected wounds. A seamstress’s spare thread purchased recovery from demon-inflicted burns.

I’ve made incredible money in the demon kingdom. The daily income of hundreds of thousands. I can afford generosity.

Each transaction generated shop points while providing genuine aid to people who’d been caught in conflicts beyond their control. The shop points gained satisfied his business instincts while the humanitarian results fed his conscience. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

It’s not like I’m going to do this forever. And I don’t have much stock anyway.

Noah glanced at his remaining inventory—roughly ten loaves left after his generosity spree. Enough to help the most desperate cases without depleting his entire production.

Limited supply means careful selection. Help those who need it most.

Inside the shop, Lola watched the proceedings with fascination that transcended her usual amusement at human behaviour. Her expression was that of genuine respect for Noah’s approach to business ethics.

The succubus had concealed herself with subtle magic that made human eyes slide past her presence without conscious recognition. Against ordinary humans with no magical sensitivity, the illusion was flawless.

Lola knew that humans and demons had complicated relationships due to the extremists’ attacks. In her eyes, it was better to avoid unnecessary conflicts for Noah.

Her ruby eyes tracked each transaction with interest, noting how Noah evaluated each customer’s needs and resources before establishing fair exchange rates.

He’s not just giving things away randomly. There’s a method to his generosity. She thought with a smile on her face.

A blacksmith approached, his arms covered in blistered burns, red, cracked skin marred by the signature scorch of fire. The damage was fresh, the kind of injury that lingered and ruined the coordination.

For a blacksmith, that meant losing their job.

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