Lord of the Time: I Can Reincarnate Infinitely

The next morning, Caleb stepped out of the inn, unaware that behind the closed doors of the office, the innkeeper was engaged in a secretive and urgent video call. Using a magical device that projected shimmering images into the air, the innkeeper spoke with a man whose presence seemed to exude authority and impatience.

"Is the room available yet? Have you managed to evict the current occupant?" the man on the other side of the call demanded, his tone sharp and commanding.

The innkeeper, visibly sweating under pressure, responded hesitantly, "I... I tried, sir. But the old man, George, he... he refused to leave. He's quite persuasive and has some pull around here. I couldn't just force him out without causing a scene."

The man's expression darkened, displeasure clear on his face. "You were supposed to handle this quietly. Why is this proving so difficult?"

"I understand, sir, but—" the innkeeper tried to explain, his voice tinged with fear.

Cutting him off, the man interjected sharply, "Why is it so important to have that specific room? There are other rooms available. Why does it have to be the one occupied by this old man George?"

The innkeeper, confused and increasingly fearful, echoed the question, "Yes, that's true. Why that specific room, sir? As the owner, I'm not aware of anything special about it."

The man leaned closer to the magical image, his eyes narrowing, "It's not about the old man. There's something in that room I need. What it is doesn't concern you. Just know it's important and not something you would understand."

This response only deepened the innkeeper's confusion and fear. As the owner of the inn, he thought he knew every inch of his property. The idea that something hidden or valuable was in one of the rooms without his knowledge was unsettling.

Seeing the innkeeper's bewilderment, the man's tone became even more stern, "Listen, there's no room for negotiation or compromise on this. Get me that room. Do whatever it takes. I'm not interested in excuses."

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The call ended abruptly, leaving the innkeeper staring at the fading magical image, his mind racing with anxiety. What could possibly be so important in that room? And what lengths would this mysterious man go to in order to obtain it? The situation was spiraling beyond his control, and now, with threats hanging over him, the innkeeper felt trapped in a game much bigger than he had anticipated.

...

In a dimly lit room, shrouded in shadows, a man spoke urgently with a hooded figure, the air thick with tension. The flickering light from a single candle barely illuminated their faces, casting long, eerie shadows across the walls.

"The plan hit a snag," the man said, frustration evident in his voice. "The old man, George, and the innkeeper came to an agreement. He's still in the room."

The hooded figure, his face obscured by darkness, responded calmly, "As long as the item can be obtained, it's not a problem. We can still proceed."

The man, enraged by the suggestion, retorted sharply, "You mean we eliminate George? Just a random old man? Is that what our organization has come to?"

The hooded figure leaned forward slightly, his voice even and measured, "Sometimes, the end justifies the means. We need what's in that room. If this George is in the way, we deal with it efficiently."

This sparked an intense negotiation between the two, as the man tried to push back against what he saw as a moral boundary crossing. "There has to be another way. We're not murderers. This is supposed to be about retrieval, not assassination."

The hooded figure remained unmoved, his stance firm. "What we are about is success. Adjust your moral compass to the reality of our mission. If you cannot handle it, maybe you are not suited for the deeper aspects of our work."

Cornered by the hooded figure's relentless logic and cold pragmatism, the man realized he had little room to maneuver. He countered, trying to regain some control over the situation, "Fine. If we are to go down this path, the price of that item, if retrieved within a week, will need to be substantially higher. Consider it hazard pay."

The hooded man paused, then nodded slowly, "Agreed. If you can secure the item within one week, the price will be doubled. But remember, this isn't about greed—it's about necessity."

As they negotiated back and forth, each trying to angle the discussion to their advantage, the stakes grew higher. The man, though uneasy about the proposed actions, knew the importance of the mission. His devious wit and negotiation skills were put to the test as he tried to ensure that if they were to cross this line, it would not be without substantial gain.

"Damn it!" the man cursed. The hooded man smiled and disappeared.

After the intense discussion, the atmosphere in the room shifted as a woman entered abruptly, her demeanor serious and her gaze sharp. She looked directly at the man, her expression one of disapproval.

"You lost that negotiation," she stated flatly, her voice tinged with both frustration and disbelief. "You let emotions cloud your judgment and fail to take control of the situation."

The man, still reeling from the recent confrontation, attempted to defend himself. "I managed to double the price. That's not a loss," he argued, trying to find footing in the shaky aftermath of his negotiation.

The woman shook her head, clearly not convinced. "Doubling the price when you could have secured more favorable terms earlier is a pyrrhic victory. You reacted instead of controlled. The hooded man dictated the terms; you just followed where he led. That's not how you win a negotiation."

She began to lay out her points methodically, each one a lesson in the art of negotiation. "You need to anticipate the other side's moves and prepare your responses. You didn't turn the tables when you had the chance. You let fear of escalation guide you instead of strategic thinking."

As she elaborated on where he had gone wrong, the man listened, his frustration slowly turning into contemplation. Despite the doubling of the price, he recognized the missed opportunities to truly dominate the negotiation.

Finally, he responded with a resigned sigh, "Greediness is the downfall of kings. I aimed not to be blinded by immediate gains."

The woman paused, considering his words. While she appreciated his attempt to find a moral lesson in his failure, it was clear she remained unimpressed by the outcome.