Mu’en left the Duke’s Mansion, hopping into a carriage that clocked in too many hours of being a ride to a fancy shop he liked to visit. After instructing the guard to chill at the door, he sneakily slipped out through the back like a quirky cat burglar.
Disguised, he navigated the maze of a city that seemed to have more twists than a soap opera plot, finding himself by the river where the upper and lower districts met. Seizing an opportunity when no one was watching, he leaped down a grimy pipe by the riverbank.
A whiff of decay teased his nose, and Mu’en grimaced, putting on a mask and draping himself with a cloak so big it could hide a whole cow. He hurried through the pipe like a rat looking for cheese.
“Hold it right there.”
At the end of the tunnel stood a tall figure blocking his path.
“Who goes there?”
Mu’en thought for a moment: “Just a sewer rat.”
“What’s the business?”
“Looking for rotten meat.”
“And what proof do you have?”
Mu’en waved a black token with an illustration of a rat so lifelike it seemed to twitch.
“Hmm, you’re good to go.”
The tall figure stepped aside, revealing an ever-narrower passage behind them.
Nodding, Mu’en pocketed the token and sped past.
In the blink of an eye, a glimmering ray of light trickled down from above, revealing a glimpse of the towering figure’s body. And it looked like a pile of rotten meat with a wriggling army of maggots. Ugh, the smell hit like a brick — suffocatingly repulsive.
“Ugh, welcome to the magical world, I guess.”
Suppressing his nausea, Mu’en fled the scene faster than a cat at a dog show.
Emerging from the cramped tunnel, his surroundings opened up to reveal a gigantic underground space. The walls sparkled with soft-glowing stones, illuminating the area crowded with passersby, all cloaked in mysterious black robes.
This was the underground black market of Bairland’s lower district, where allegedly you could buy anything — even anyone — if you flashed enough cash.
“Good thing I remember how to get here,” Mu’en thought to himself, a hint of gratitude warming his heart.
In the original story, the protagonist practically lived here, coming by every so often to score some sort of lucky find. If he were to look around now, half of those crazy treasures that the protagonist collected later would probably just be chilling on the ground, labeled as worthless junk.
But Mu’en hadn’t come to scoop up the goodies early, because based on the vague descriptions he’d read and his rather unreliable memory, he wouldn’t be able to tell true gems from the dross.
Plus, snagging the protagonist’s gear might mess up the timeline, and he wasn’t in the mood for any time-traveling shenanigans.
“Ah, since I’ve decided to be a humble citizen, I should stop thinking about all that…”
He tucked those thoughts away and scanned the market.
To be honest, buying something like a sleeping drug wasn’t a necessity in a black market. But Mu’en had his sights on a special target — namely, the Empire’s third princess, the Ice Witch, Celicia, who was known for freezing your socks off.
Blessed by the Ice and Snow Goddess since birth, she had a knack for extreme frost, and with royal training on top of that, she was terrifyingly powerful.
At this stage, even the protagonist stood no chance against her, let alone Mu’en, who hadn’t been blessed by any divine being nor trained at all.
“I definitely don’t want to mess this one up and have the princess frostbite the protagonist before he even arrives!”
He chuckled at the absurdity of his situation.
Luckily, he soon zeroed in on his target.
At the end of one street stood a little shop emanating an ominous vibe, with a giant ram skull hanging from the sign that screamed “Welcome, Creepy Stuff Inside!”
Thanks to that horrifying skull, Mu’en recognized the place instantly. In the original story, the protagonist had frequented it, and the shopkeeper was a mysterious figure who dealt in all sorts of weird wares.
Surely, they must have some sleeping drugs too, right?
He swung open the door, jangling the little bell.
“Oh my, we have a guest today! Come right in!”
The shopkeeper lurked within a voluminous black robe, the voice gravelly enough that it could have belonged to anyone.
Upon seeing Mu’en, the shopkeeper’s hood lit up with a twinkling sparkle, like a wolf spotting a fluffy lamb.
“What can I show you, young master? This little shop may be humble, but we have everything!”
“I want…”
Mu’en initially thought to say he was just browsing, but given his time crunch, he decided to be straightforward.
“I want sleeping drugs, the kind that really works.”
“Oh?”
Although the shopkeeper’s face was obscured, Mu’en could sense the grin widening, like they just hit a jackpot.
“Ah, sleeping drugs! I get it, I get it! You fancy the rich life of fun, huh? Haha! Just so happens I know a few places that sell some quality slaves. Want me to hook you up? Just a small referral fee, and mentioning my name will get you a discount…”
“…No? If not, I’ll be on my way.”
“N-no, wait! We have the best sleeping drugs here!”
The shopkeeper grabbed the edge of Mu’en’s cloak, stopping him in his tracks, then dashed off to rummage through a mountain of bottles.
In the awkward position, Mu’en had an accidental view of the shopkeeper’s robe accentuating a rather eye-popping curve.
“Whoa, this shopkeeper’s… got back.”
Mu’en stroked his chin, a bit mischievous: “Could it be? Is the shopkeeper actually a beauty?”
Unfortunately, that mystery wouldn’t be solved today.
He hadn’t finished the original story, and maybe the shopkeeper’s face was revealed later, but that was none of his concern now.
Ding ding.
Just then, the little bell jingled again as another cloaked figure wafted in, not bringing in much originality cloaked in black.
But this time, the newcomer appeared a bit petite with a hint of flowery perfume wafting through — probably another woman.
“Hi there, do you sell sleeping drugs?”
“Welcome! Oh, sleeping drugs? Of course… wait, what did you say?”
“I said, do you sell sleeping drugs?”
“You want to buy sleeping drugs too?”
“Yes, is there a problem with that?”
“Not at all, not at all!”
The shopkeeper cast a suspicious glance at Mu’en, mumbling something about how today was a curious day, then went back to flipping through the shelf.
“She wants to buy sleeping drugs too?”
Mu’en covertly eyed the black robe next to him.
“Do women have this kind of need too?”
“Maybe she’s planning something nefarious.”
“Too bad I can’t intervene.”
“Let’s hope her wicked plans flop.”
“Heh.”
Mu’en sighed internally: “What am I even thinking? I’m about to do the same thing as her!”
Who was he to judge?
“Oh, got it!”
Not long after, the shopkeeper returned, a spring in their step, pulling out two delicate little bottles and placing them before Mu’en and the black-robed woman.
Curiously, Mu’en picked up a vial, noticing it contained a dark red, glimmering liquid.
“This color…”
Mu’en’s jaw dropped.
What in the world was this red liquid?
Were they afraid others wouldn’t catch on to the fact they were drugging someone?
