To enter the black market and join the auction house, one needed a certain code. Normally, this was sothing a normal person couldn’t hope to discover. The best thod involved finding a mber of the Black Hand Gang or those with direct links to the auction.
Ryuji stood amidst the warm market with a faint smile.
Despite the sun setting, a thick aroma of spices, sweet and sour, filled the air. Countless burning braziers and cooking pots filled with aromatic curries and broths from the various tribes, cities and cultures that mixed in the Northern Mainland.
"Delicious, this curry is nothing like the one from my holand."
Ryuji handed the empty bowl back to the vendor and wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb. The heat of the curry still lingered on his tongue, sharp and earthy, nothing like the clean, peppery spice he knew from ho.
It grounded him in this mont and reminded him how far he’d travelled and how different the empire was from his original thoughts.
’If only Nerim were still here to try it with .’
The marketplace had shifted with the fading light and families retreating ho, rcenaries erging from taverns to find another, while rchants packed away their dayti wares and replaced them with less wholeso stock.
The cheerful noise dimd into a mutter of private trades and coded conversations.
Vivi and Nerim long vanished from his sight and returned to the inn, but he couldn’t help but miss the company once alone. He wiped his mouth with a cloth and stepped between two half-collapsed stalls. The path angled downward, with a low ceiling hidden under the shadows of an overhanging balcony.
Most passersby didn’t notice the narrow descent at all, as it just resembled a normal service alley, nothing more. But thanks to the information from Vivi and the other rchants he spoke with during their day out, Ryuji knew the first code.
On the door was a large round handle, like that of a ship with nubs pointing to each hour on a clock.
Three turns clockwise until a click sounds.
Ryuji’s eyes narrowed at the sudden sound of a rusted bolt clicking into place, the small view hatch at eye level shifting slightly.
Ignore the hatch and light the lantern hanging on the right.
With his actions, the sound of soone from the other side breathing a sigh of relief reaches his ears, before the final action.
"I am here to enjoy the wonders of the great desert valley."
Tap
Tap
Tap!
On the third knock, the door opened, and a weathered old man with a wart on the end of his enormous nose opened the door. "Welco esteed guest." His voice was grainy and common, despite the attempt to sound polite. "Please enjoy the night market."
Ryuji nodded to the man before stepping inside.
A low "Don’t cause troubles" reverberated in his ears as the door behind him slamd shut and vanished in a mysterious mirage of smoke.
"Interesting."
There wasn’t anything to do other than explore, and the deeper he walked, the more the air changed. The scents of spices and fried food faded, replaced by cold iron, damp wood, and a faint trace of blood. Mana throbbed beneath the ground, forming a constant pulse that kept unwanted watchers away.
Ryuji’s eyes glanced at cages with traces of dried blood; the atmosphere beca thick with bloodlust and the perfu of nobles.
At the bottom of the alley, he reached a dead end with wooden planks nailed together crudely with a cheap grey paint splashed over them as if to hide the clear eeriness of this strange wall.
’Hm, this is the place...’
He spotted two cloaked n with a similar marking to the n he saw earlier when chasing Vivi, clearly mbers of the Black Hand Gang, who pretended they weren’t guarding this fence.
Ryuji approached without slowing.
One guard shifted. "Password?"
Ryuji didn’t bother to look at him. "Four beads break the chain."
"And the desert?"
He closed his eyes and retold the code he learned. "Remains Ours Forever." Emphasising the first letter, as told, the two guards dropped their caution and nodded with a smile.
"Welco to the promised land, enjoy your stay."
The n stiffened. The left one knocked twice, once, twice again. The wall shimred with faint sparkles, not illusion magic, but a seal peeling open like a mouth, revealing the hidden door to the true black market swung inward.
Ryuji stepped through, eyes narrowing at the glow of lanterns below.
***
"They’re quite thorough." He mused while walking down the curved stairwell that shouldn’t have existed, but it did. The wide and magical stairwell moved with his steps, creating a strange sense of rapid movent.
The black market sprawled beneath the city like a parasite, lit by lanterns tinted red and green to distort features and identities, and the air was thick with incense.
’It mirrors the entire city!?’
He found quite a shock while browsing the black market, above them a ceiling of rock and dirt with an illusion of the night sky and stars. If not for the darkness lingering in this place, Ryuji might have called it beautiful.
Ryuji moved without drawing attention. His disguise was simple, a loose dark coat with a low hood and a muted scent, a mixture of berries, herbs and perfu. He wore a mask that hid most of his face, revealing just two sharp, blue eyes. Here, he wouldn’t use his power to cause trouble, but to avoid it.
"I shouldn’t linger here too long, the way out changes at three-hour intervals."
Stalls lined the long corridor, each one carved into the rock as if the mountain itself had been bored hollow. A dwarven smith hamred runes onto a gauntlet still wet with blood. A masked alchemist hawked vials of shimring liquid that pulsed like living hearts. Two stitched-together beasts snarled from cages, their eyes dim but hungry.
Finally, after a short while of listening, browsing and preparing himself, he found the auction house and the most popular bars in the black market. So people never left this place, an eternal night, the drunk gamblers bragged.
What surprised him was how openly everyone spoke, as if no secrets existed; they ntioned a blonde-haired girl and how she’d fetch a significant amount of coin. ’Huh?’ He noticed so n speaking vulgarly about Nerim and clenched his teeth.
’This filthy place...!’
A group of rcenaries blocked part of the path, bickering with a dealer over a shipnt of cursed weapons. Ryuji slipped through them like mist; one blinked as he passed, thinking he imagined the movent.
It was when he reached the main plaza and grand auction house that sothing stunned him.
"Logan?"
"Oh!? Lad!"
"Brother, Ryuji?"
I was Logan and Thorim, wearing dark robes and cloth masks to hide their identities, but the demon god could sense their unique mana and atmosphere from a mile away.
"What are you both here for?"
"To sell the excess of that tal, did you forget, Lad?" Logan glanced at him with a worried expression. There wasn’t any sort of trickery. This allowed Ryuji to breathe as he recalled the discussion after a short pause.
"S-Sorry, I forgot."
"Gyahaha, even our pretty leader isn’t perfect."
The old dwarf slapped his back before handing him a token. "If yer here for the auction, you also need this. I have a spare thanks to selling the tal to the auction house. But be careful Lad, I heard there’s so strange figures attending tonight."
"Sure, thanks..."
It was a little bizarre to et Logan, but the two didn’t wait around, and with a slight bow, the two of them headed into the second entrance to the right of the massive archway. ’That’s probably where those who are selling go...’ Instead, he stepped to the main entrance and stopped just short of the doorway.
At the threshold, a tall figure draped in a feathered cloak held out a hand. "Token."
’Wow, I’d have been in trouble...’
Ryuji withdrew the token given to him by the dwarf, which confused him was a difference between his and Logan’s. The one he got was cheap-looking and lacked the detail and craftsmanship the other one had.
And the mont the man saw it, he suddenly bowed and beca polite.
The guard’s abrupt shift in posture told Ryuji more than any inspection could. The man straightened his spine, swept the feathers of his cloak aside, and offered a gesture closer to a noble’s welco than a routine check.
"My apologies, honored guest. The golden crest token is reserved for high-priority patrons. Please! Enter without delay, we have prepared your seat."
Ryuji hid his surprise behind the mask.
Two attendants in dark silks approached, bowing in unison before guiding him down a carpeted hallway scented with rare incense that lightened the mood, ant to loosen wallets and judgnt.
The oppressive aura of the market faded into sothing more insidious, and the obvious danger and aggression beca colder, more subtle and hidden. The inside no longer resembled the slums or back streets, with marble floors and pillars, walls etched with ancient languages and statues of pure gold.
They ushered him into a private balcony box overlooking the main hall. Velvet curtains, a mana-shielded barrier for anonymity, and a direct view of the elevated stage. Below, wealthy bidders murmured like vultures gathering around a carcass.
Not long after, he sat down and leaned back, and two beautiful won in simple cream dresses that barely covered their hips entered the room with faint smiles, one holding a bowl of fruit, the other a massive jug of wine.
Ryuji settled into the chair, fingers tapping the armrest.
’So this is an illegal auction?’
Unlike those heroes in novels he read, there was no need to hold back. So he reached around and pulled both won onto his lap. He knew that if anyone could help gather information before the auction, it was these two beautiful people.
With his eyes shimring gold, his lips curved into a malicious grin.
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