Mystery: Gray Walker

Chapter 154

Not long after, the waiter returned.

"Sir," the waiter bowed slightly, "among the registered items for sale, there are currently no stomachs of Spirit Eaters. As for the blood of deep-sea marlin—a gentleman has registered several blood samples of deep-sea mutated creatures, but the specific species was not specified; you will need to confirm this yourself."

He paused, then added, "That gentleman is currently in compartment number seven. However—"

The waiter smiled slightly. "That gentleman's referral fee is rather high, five soles, regardless of whether the deal goes through."

Green understood. The rules of this underground market were indeed layered and exploitative; the entrance fee was just the beginning.

"Yes," he said calmly, counting out five sule from his purse and handing it to the waiter.

If he could obtain the necessary promotion materials, he wouldn't mind spending more money.

The waiter took the money, and his smile immediately became genuine: "Please follow me."

He led Green through the seating area, past the noisy dance floor in the center. As they passed, Green could feel the fleeting glances cast by the men, absorbed in their desires, their eyes a mixture of curiosity and a hint of wariness.

Here, every new face is worth noting.

Chamber number seven was located at the innermost part of the hall, right next to the entrance to another dark passageway leading deeper inside. The curtain was dark blue and had no markings on it.

The waiter stopped outside the curtain and coughed softly.

"Mr. Hans, a guest has expressed interest in your 'deep-sea sample'."

There was a few seconds of silence from behind the curtain, then a hoarse voice with a heavy nasal tone said, "Come in."

The waiter lifted a corner of the curtain for Green and gestured for him to enter, while he himself remained outside.

Green stepped in sideways.

The room was small, containing only a square table and two chairs. A dimly lit oil lamp with a glass shade was burning on the table.

A middle-aged man with a worn-out leather jacket, greasy hair, and a thin face sat opposite, slicing a dark, unappetizing object with a small knife.

It could be dried meat, or something else entirely.

He looked up at Green, his eyes cloudy and the whites of his eyes bloodshot.

"Sit down." Hans gestured with the tip of his knife to the chair opposite him.

Green sat down, looked at the other person quietly, and slowly said, "Do you have 20 milliliters of deep-sea marlin blood?"

Hans stopped whittling, tilted his head to look at Green, and gave him a strange smile: "Marlin? What do you need that for? As bait? Or—"

He leaned closer, "—Some shady formula?"

Green remained unfazed: "The price."

Hans leaned back in his chair and tapped the table with his knife: "I do have blood from a deep-sea mutated creature here, 2 pounds 7 sulphurs. But whether it's marlin—that depends on your eyesight."

He paused, then added, "Or, you could have 'Old Pipe' help you identify it; this 'deep-sea item' is probably—5 to 10 sulphurs."

Green frowned. He had already paid three times before even buying the item. This black market was indeed shady.

The seller provides the goods, and the buyer can make their own judgment or pay a neutral appraiser to verify them in order to reduce the risk.

By proposing this option, Hans not only appeared to be "fair" but also shifted the identification costs and risks to Green. At the same time, if Green chose to have the identification done, the "old pipe" appraiser would likely also receive a share of the profits with the market regulators, and Hans might indirectly benefit as well.

"Sure." Green didn't hesitate. Compared to the potential loss of 2 pounds 7 shillings, spending a maximum of 10 shillings for peace of mind was worthwhile. "I'll take a look at the stuff first, and if I think it's necessary, I'll go find the old piper."

"7

Hans nodded, seemingly pleased with Green's understanding.

He pulled a small, dark glass vial, about the size of a thumb, sealed with thick wax, from under the table. It contained about 30 milliliters of dark blue, viscous liquid, and pushed it in front of Green.

"Here you are."

Green bent down to examine the bottle carefully, without touching it.

The color is a dark blue, almost black, characteristic of deep-sea marlin blood, with a faint, almost metallic sheen under the lamplight.

He drew upon his spirituality and attempted to engage in the most basic forms of perception.

A cold, slippery, spiritual feedback, carrying the pressure and saltiness of the deep sea, came through, mixed with an indescribable sense of emptiness, as if it came from the deepest abyss.

This feeling is basically consistent with the "inert and profound" characteristics of deep-sea marlin blood described in records, but the "hollow feeling" is somewhat different.

"Is the portion enough?" Green asked.

"That's enough," Hans said immediately, "concentrated. This stuff isn't easy to get these days."

"I need an assessment," Green decided. That "emptiness" made him unable to feel completely at ease.

Hans gave a mocking smile, then waved for a waiter.

"Gentlemen, is there anything you need?" The waiter stepped forward, smiling and asking in a low voice.

Hans handed the small glass vial to the waiter, saying, "Could you please have the old pipe appraise it? What material is it? This gentleman can pay for it."

"Okay," the waiter said, taking the small bottle and bowing slightly. "Please wait a moment."

The waiter, carrying the small bottle, turned and walked to an inconspicuous corner on the other side of the hall. There, a high table stood, behind which sat an old man with gray hair, smoking an old briar pipe.

The old man, wearing a faded brown vest and brass-rimmed glasses, was reading a thick book with a leather cover by the light of a gas lamp.

The waiter placed the small bottle in front of the old man and whispered a few words.

The old man with the "old pipe" looked up, glanced through his glasses at the direction of the cubicle where Green and Hans were, and nodded.

He put down his book, picked up the small bottle, first held it up to the light to carefully observe its color and texture, then peeled off the wax seal with practiced ease, leaving only a thin slit at the bottle opening.

He took out a thin silver needle, inserted it, dipped it in a tiny bit of liquid, sniffed it under his nose, and frowned slightly.

Next, he took out a small crystal lens from under the table and carefully observed the liquid residue on the silver needle. He then took out a small brass dish about the size of a palm, dripped a tiny bit of liquid into it, and then took out a small paper packet from his pocket, pinched off a small amount of grayish-white powder, and sprinkled it on.

When the powder came into contact with the liquid, there was no violent reaction; the color simply darkened slightly, and a stronger salty, fishy smell was emitted.

Old Pipe pondered for a moment, then wiped the silver needles and small dish clean with a piece of velvet cloth and resealed the glass bottle.

He said a few words to the waiter, who nodded and returned with the bottle and a small note.

"Sir, the results of the analysis for the old pipe." The waiter handed the note to Green and placed the small bottle back on the table.

Green unfolded the note; it contained neat but slightly trembling handwriting:

Sample identification:

Main ingredient: Deep-sea marlin (mutant species) blood concentrate matrix, high purity.

Impurities/Abnormalities: Contains approximately 12% unidentified deep-sea mollusc fluid (with weak psychotropic properties), and approximately 10%...

An inert solvent (presumably to maintain the liquid state and reduce dilution costs).

Spirituality Assessment: The base spirituality matches the characteristics of a deep-sea marlin, but it is contaminated by impurities, resulting in decreased stability. There is approximately a 30% risk of failure or mutation when used for precise rituals or potion preparation. Purification is recommended if you wish to use it.

Appraisal fee: 8 sole.

Green handed the note to Hans.

Hans took it and glanced at it, his expression immediately turning somewhat grim, but he quickly regained his composure and muttered, "—It's deep-sea cargo, so some impurities are inevitable——The purity is already very high——The price is negotiable—"

Green sneered inwardly.

A 30% chance of failure or mutation is almost unacceptable for promotion materials. This vial of blood is not only adulterated, but may also bring unexpected side effects.

"This bottle of blood is not worth 2 pounds 7 sulphurs."

Green said calmly, "It might not even be worth anything, and could even be harmful."

Hans's eyes flickered, as if he was weighing whether to continue arguing or admit defeat.

"Then—1 pound 10 sourds? That's already the lowest price! I even paid for it myself!"

Green shook his head and stood up.

"I'm not interested in this 'mixture'," he said, glancing at the waiter. "I'll pay the appraisal fee later. Also,"

He turned to Hans and said, "Don't try to fool others with this kind of stuff next time. Others may not have my good temper."

Seeing Green about to leave, Hans hurriedly said, "Wait! One gold pound! Only one pound! That's already a great deal! You—you could have someone refine it a bit more, then it'll be usable!"

Green stopped and turned to look at him. "You can purify it?"

Hans looked embarrassed. He rubbed his fingers together and shook his head awkwardly. "I—I don't have that skill. That's delicate work; it requires an expert or special equipment."

Green turned his gaze to the waiter. "Do you have anyone here who can provide purification services?"

The waiter maintained a professional smile and gave a slight bow: "Sir, we used to have a resident apothecary who provided basic processing services, including purification and separation. Unfortunately, he left Oberhafen about two weeks ago, reportedly to search for some rare ingredients in the southern continent, and his return date is uncertain. We are very sorry, but this service is currently unavailable in the market."

Hans suddenly remembered something and quickly interjected, "Look, it's not in the market, but there are connections outside! I've heard that the Church of the True God, especially the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery, and the Church of the Goddess of Night, have many extraordinary individuals who possess various refined skills. Maybe one of them can purify this! Although going through them might—uh—be complicated and expensive, it's still a way! This vial of blood is of good quality, really!"

He made it sound like he was thinking of Green's best interests, but in reality he was desperately trying to sell his problematic product, even going so far as to target the Church of Orthodox God.

People who frequent the black market usually avoid official organizations, so Hans's proposal at this moment seems both absurd and urgent.

Green stared silently at the bottle of liquid on the table, its surface gleaming an eerie dark blue under the dim light. Hans's and the waiter's words flashed through his mind.

The Church? Indeed, given the three major churches' mastery of matter, alchemy, and precise operations, purifying this mixed liquid is not impossible.

Although he has now joined the Church of the Goddess of Night, he does not know any of the church's alchemists.

but----

Green's fingertips tapped unconsciously on the table.

If we miss this opportunity, who knows when we'll be able to find materials that simultaneously possess the characteristics of "shadow" and "ocean".

Although Oberhafen is located by the sea, materials with shadow properties are not common, let alone such a "coincidence" that happens to combine the two properties he needs.

1 gold pounds.

It will definitely hurt. But money can be earned again, while opportunities to improve one's skills are fleeting. Every step of advancement in the ranks is accompanied by enormous risks, and any opportunity to increase the probability of success deserves careful consideration.

"————Okay." Green finally spoke, his voice calm and devoid of much emotion.

"Wise! Very wise, sir! You will absolutely not regret it! This is definitely a great deal!"

Green took out his wallet from his inner pocket, slowly pulled out a gold pound and handed it to Hans, then took out eight sulphurs and handed them to the waiter.

The waiter took the Sule, smiled and bowed: "Thank you for your generosity, sir. May the night protect you."

Hans grabbed the gold pound, pinched the edge with his fingernail, squinted at the watermark under the light, and after confirming that it was correct, quickly pushed the bottle of dark blue liquid to Green.

"It's yours! Good luck, sir! May fortune smile upon you!"

Green picked up the bottle; it was slightly cool to the touch, and the liquid inside felt somewhat viscous. He carefully checked the cork seal, confirming there were no obvious signs of leakage, and then gently placed it into his inner pocket.

He didn't look at Hans again and turned to leave.

"If it can be purified, the main ingredient is still the stomach of the Soul Eater."

Although this material is not of high grade, it is relatively rare.

It originates from a specific low-level spirit creature known as the "Spirit Devourer" or "Knowledge Worm".

This creature enjoys feeding on stray fragments of spirituality and low-level luminosity of knowledge. It is not strong in combat but is extremely rare. It usually only breeds in the spiritual realm near ancient libraries, basements where low-level rituals have been performed for a long time, or places where many beginners have meditated.

Will there be an Oberhafen?

Green quickened his pace and crossed the edge of the dance floor. Just then, a commotion broke out ahead.

"Hey! Redhead! Don't push your luck!" a rough, hoarse voice shouted, tinged with drunkenness and arrogance.

Green looked up and saw a burly man in a dirty sailor coat blocking the passageway leading to the exit. A large, hairy hand was trying to grab the red-haired dancer who had just finished her dance and was wrapping herself in a shawl to leave the stage.

The man had a hideous scar on his face, running from his brow bone to the corner of his mouth, which made his already fierce expression even more terrifying.

In his other hand, he clutched a tin glass, the smell of cheap rum emanating from which could be detected from several steps away.

After removing some of her heavy makeup, the dancer looked very pretty and not very old.

Her eyes were filled with wariness and disgust, and she deftly shrank back to avoid the hand.

"Sir, I only dance," she said coldly, seemingly disgusted by this type of person.

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