Chapter 329: The Black Market (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 329: The Black Market (2)
The way to the Black Market is very simple.
Go to the third floor of Building F—the largest, oldest, and shabbiest building of them all.
Find the shop that sells its wares for just a little more than the stores next to it.
Step inside, and a man with an utterly unremarkable face, the kind you could see anywhere, will greet you.
“Welcome.”
A lukewarm greeting, neither friendly nor unfriendly.
“Take your time and look around.”
With that, the man’s interest in me plummeted. I walked up to him and recited the prepared words.
“I’m in a hurry. Can I use your restroom?”
This was the first code phrase to open the door to the Black Market.
The man looked up at me with a blunt gaze and asked, “Number one or number two?”
“Both.”
At the designated response, the man stepped aside, revealing a door behind the counter.
“…Go in and head left.”
I opened the closed door and entered a narrow hallway under dim lighting.
A little farther down, the path split in two.
“Right.”
Here, I had to make another turn, moving in the opposite direction of where the man had told me to go.
The left path led to a real restroom.
At the end of the right path was another door.
Inside, a large magic circle was engraved in the center of the room.
That was the entrance.
A teleportation circle leading to the Black Market, hidden somewhere in the Republic of Korea.
I put on the mask I’d brought with me and stepped into the center of the circle.
Then, I scattered mana beneath my feet.
As it greedily devoured a considerable amount of mana, the magic circle began to glow faintly.
Shwoook.
My world turned pitch black, as if all the lights in the universe had gone out.
When the light flickered back on, the scene before me had changed in an instant.
A sky that was gloomy 365 days a year.
The faint stench of a sewer tickling my nose.
A spiderweb of tangled alleyways.
And a dark, grim atmosphere that enveloped it all.
Finally.
“Scrolls for sale! We’ve got every kind of useful escape scroll!”
“Hey, you! Need a transformation potion? One look at your face and I can tell you’re a heinous criminal!”
“We’ve got everything but what we don’t have! Just come and check the prices!”
The clamorous shouts of hawkers, reminiscent of a chaotic bazaar, pierced my ears.
“It’s been a while.”
The last time I was here was three or four years ago, so it had been quite some time.
Even so, the Black Market’s scenery hadn’t changed one bit.
Well… it might be more accurate to say that it couldn’t change.
This place wasn’t a naturally formed space, but one artificially created by someone.
Until its creator had a change of heart, this scenery would never change.
Street stalls occupied every corner of the streets.
I walked along the cracked asphalt road where their heated sales pitches were taking place.
Goods were piled on dirty rugs that made me question when, or if, they were ever washed.
Every single item was something difficult to obtain on the surface.
“…Damn, the world is full of so many rats.”
Most of them were items whose sale was strictly prohibited by the state, or things that could only be purchased through limited channels—goods for which the transaction itself was illegal.
There was only one reason such items were distributed in large quantities in the Black Market.
Bastards who skimmed goods off the top to pocket bribes.
They were bought at a premium from those who casually ignored the boundaries of the law to line their own pockets.
Those items were then sold with another premium added on top of the first.
The price was inflated by a minimum of three times, and at most, ten.
Despite such outrageous price gouging, popular items sold like hotcakes.
After all, if there were no demand, no one would go through the trouble of illegally procuring the goods in the first place.
I walked quickly past the stalls, and soon, a new path unfolded before me.
“Now this is more like it.”
The Black Market is divided into four districts.
The road lined with street vendors that I had just passed through was the lowest level.
It was an area that sold items of low importance—things that were in demand but not particularly difficult to find.
The place I had just entered was the lower level.
It was a much more orderly place than the path I’d just walked, consisting of shabby but decent-looking shop buildings that could only be assigned to those who possessed a large quantity of rare goods.
This area also had various amenities, such as bars and motels.
Of course, no one was crazy enough to drink themselves blind or pass out here.
Most people knew that this place held no kind souls who would warmly look after those who lost consciousness.
People mostly just came to wet their throats or to bang a prostitute who frequented the Black Market.
That was usually the extent of it.
“Passing on this place, too.”
Perhaps it was due to the pride of having clawed their way up from the warzone-like lowest level.
I passed through the district of those who conducted their business with an air of aloofness, without any particular hawking, and continued upward.
The next place I reached was the middle level.
The dark and dreary atmosphere wasn't much different from the entrance, but it was a clean street lined with respectable buildings.
This was effectively the end of the line for ordinary customers.
There were upper and highest levels beyond this, but… you couldn’t pass through without a special permit.
In my past life as Son Si-woo, my journey had always stopped here.
I probably could have obtained a pass to the upper level if I’d wanted to, but doing so would have almost inevitably revealed my identity.
Imagine if a rumor spread that the National Hunter was a VIP of the Black Market, one who could come and go from the upper levels.
It would only be a matter of time before the National Hunter became a national traitor.
The higher you fly, the harder you fall.
Anyway.
I couldn't go to the upper level, nor did I want to.
My business today was scheduled to take place here, in the middle level.
“Let’s see…”
I glanced around, looking for a specific shop.
I was sure it was somewhere around here, but my memory was hazy since it had been so long.
As I slowly walked, checking the signs on the buildings one by one, I found it.
“The Witch’s Jar…”
This was it.
The shop I was looking for.
I cautiously stepped into the building, from which a pungent odor constantly wafted, stinging my nose.
The interior had a strange atmosphere, with a faint purple smoke blanketing the ceiling.
As I was momentarily captivated by the mysteriousness of it all…
“Hoholhol… A customer has arrived.”
A wizened voice came from the back.
An old woman, wearing a deep purple robe and a large witch’s hat of the same color atop her white hair.
She matched the image of the shop owner in my memory perfectly.
She definitely matched, but…
“……?”
The shape of the mana emanating from the old woman didn’t match her appearance in the slightest.
The crone before me was an old woman who looked to be in her eighties or nineties, her back bent with age.
But the form of the mana she emitted was that of a woman standing tall and straight.
The shape of mana that one subconsciously emits matches their physical appearance.
Which meant…
“Why are you staring so intently?”
Her appearance, from her looks to her speech, was a perfect imitation of an old woman, but it was nothing more than a disguise.
“…It’s nothing, Grandma.”
Hiding what I’d learned, I shook my head with a smile.
Doing business in disguise, even in the Black Market, meant she had her reasons.
In other words, I had just been handed a free card.
A rather useful card I could play to pressure her if the deal didn’t go smoothly.
“Hoholhol… And what brings you to this old woman’s shop?”
There was only one reason I had come to the Black Market, and specifically, chosen this shop.
“I heard you’re an expert at making elixirs, Grandma, so I came to ask for a favor.”
To create an elixir.
At my answer, the old woman gave me a quizzical look and asked, “This old crone doesn’t make elixirs for just anyone… Who told you that?”
That’s right.
This old woman didn’t take elixir requests from just anyone.
It was strictly by referral, and on top of that, you had to present ingredients that would pique her interest to even make a request.
Of course, I had taken care of both.
The person who recommended me to this place was…
“Son Si-woo.”
…me, or so the story went.
“Hmm…?”
The old woman tilted her head, her expression suggesting she might have misheard me.
She was probably just surprised to hear such an unexpected name.
“Son Si-woo… You’re saying you heard about me from that boy?”
“Yes.”
“Hoholhol… To think I’d get a customer from the boy who always hid his face whenever he came to the Black Market, terrified of being discovered.”
I first made a deal with this old woman more than ten years ago.
At the time, I was desperate to strengthen the body of my daughter, Seo-yeon, who had been born frail.
I was feeding her anything and everything that was said to be good for her when a colleague recommended this shop, and I immediately requested an elixir.
But she told me I had to reveal my identity if I wanted her to make it.
So I did.
In other words, she was the only person, aside from my family and colleagues, who knew that Son Si-woo was a customer of the Black Market.
The old woman, who had been laughing nonstop as if something was incredibly amusing, suddenly adopted a serious demeanor.
“Boy. If you were recommended by him, you must know what you have to do.”
“Of course.”
I knew very well.
Right after answering, I took off the perception-hindering magic mask I was wearing.
At the sight of my bare face, the old woman’s thinly opened eyes widened slightly, as if in surprise.
“Well, well… A remarkable fellow has recommended a remarkable boy as a customer.”
It seemed she knew who I was.
It was only natural.
This old woman, belying her age, had always been incredibly quick to get information.
No… maybe the phrase ‘belying her age’ no longer fits.
Not now that I knew she was hiding her true appearance.
I put the mask back on, lest anyone see, and asked her, “Is that qualification enough?”
The old woman smiled.
“Hoholhol… How impatient. There’s still one thing left, isn’t there?”
Ah, right.
As I said before, she would only craft an elixir worthy of the ingredients if you brought her something that tempted her.
“Now, hurry and show this old crone what you’ve brought.”
At her subtle urging, I took out the item I had brought from home and showed it to her.
The flattened petals and stem of a Hundred-Year Evening Primrose, its form completely unchanged despite being dried.
“Gasp…!”
Seeing it, the old woman let out a sharp intake of breath, startled.
“H-How did you get something so precious…?”
The Hundred-Year Evening Primrose was an incredibly rare plant that was nearly impossible to find.
It was no wonder she was surprised that a mere A-rank Hunter had just casually strolled in with it.
“I came across it by chance.”
“Y-You must have been incredibly lucky.”
“You could say that.”
The old woman, who had been sizing up the petals on my hand, asked in a puzzled tone, “But… it seems you’re missing some petals?”
“Ah, those.”
They had already been put to good use.
“I gave them to my girlfriend.”
“…Did you find it together?”
“No. I just fed them to her to make her skin nicer.”
“……”
I successfully read a single word in the old woman’s gaze as she stared at me with cold eyes.
Madman.
There was no doubt that was what she was thinking.