abnormal mutation

Chapter 115 Black Market
After scanning the lobby, Percy pulled Roland aside and said, "I understand what you mean. Think about it, whose territory is this? If the Northern Merchant Guild loses something important, who would dare to sell it here?"
Moreover, this is only a low-end black market, the semi-public kind. Real black markets are clandestine gatherings; you can't get in without an introduction.

“I understand, but it’s daytime now.” Since there was no risk, Roland was naturally willing to satisfy his curiosity.

"The black markets in the North are almost always open during the day; at night, there's not a soul in sight. Anyone coming in or out is easily spotted and exposed. Just come with me."

Percy looked very professional, but the one leading the way was the middle-aged guard named Marcus, who, judging from his accent, was a local.

He led Roland and the others away from Central Street, wandering around the southern commercial district, and casually bought each of them a hooded cloak, the most common type of cloak in the north, from a tailor shop.

Compared to the past, the streets were a bit deserted, the atmosphere was somber, and many people in the streets and alleys were talking about the Seventh Authority.

The power of "Big Mouth" is undeniable; one wonders what the law enforcement officers will think after learning this.

Last night, the credibility of the judicial system suffered another major blow. If the royal family has any oversight of the law enforcement domain, have they taken the recent unrest in the North seriously?

While they were pondering, Percy led the group into a dark alley, knocked on the door of one of the wooden houses, and after paying an entrance fee of one dollar per person, the hooded old man led them to the cellar.

As you walk through the dark passageway in the cellar, the temperature rises higher and higher. After several minutes of twists and turns, the view suddenly opens up, and a wave of humid, hot air hits you, mixed with the sound of gurgling water.

This is a huge underground water cave, tens of meters wide and high. The rugged stone walls are covered with glowing moss, and there are oil lamps every few steps, so it is not dark here.

A steaming underground river meanders into the distance, disappearing into the darkness; its length is unknown.

The black market was set up along the river, with densely packed stalls on both sides. In front, there were wooden houses and several streets, making it very lively, but Roland felt that there were more sellers than buyers.

“Isn’t it spectacular?” Percy whispered. “It’s five or six Delhi long. The underground river connects to the Frost River, its source is unknown, and the temperature is very high. It’s said to be above ten degrees Celsius year-round…”

Roland nodded slightly. The black market only occupied a relatively flat area, with most of the space left unused, which was a waste.

"Splash—" Suddenly, a person rushed out of the street and jumped into the underground river.

"My stuff, you bastard!" The stall owner was furious, but dared not jump down, so he could only curse helplessly, "Don't let me find you."

Everyone was stunned.

After a moment of silence, Percy sighed, "It's not necessarily safe in this underground river. Even if you run to the Frost River, you'll freeze to death. These people are really brave."

Roland remained noncommittal. He said that the extraordinary people at the bottom of society were impoverished and desperate, and that they would resort to any means to survive and advance in order to steal and rob.

The stall owner turned his head and saw Roland and his group, his eyes lighting up:
"Hey gentlemen, how about some potions? We have everything: antidotes, curse removers, and mind protectors. With the Seventh Authority rampant right now, these are practically essentials for home and travel..."

Many of my long-time customers were able to escape the Seventh Apostle's control because they bought my potions..."

Roland's lips twitched. If he remembered correctly, he had controlled the Seventh Apostle for half a night. Could the Apostle possibly have a clone?

He glanced at the messy stall, which was filled with all sorts of bottles and jars, emanating chaotic spiritual energy. Among them were various bizarre creature limbs, and the smell was strange and pungent.

This was quite different from the potions he had seen from Julia.

Bosie pulled Roland away, but Roland gently pulled back, signaling him to calm down.

"How much is this?" he asked, crouching down and pointing to a metal can. Because it contained the most extraordinary qualities and could be reused.

"Three thousand..."

Roland got up and left.

"Hey, hey, hey, let me bargain..."

"Two hundred!" He didn't understand prices; he just made a rough estimate based on the total amount of the extraordinary internal qualities.

"Two hundred?! That's not even enough to cover the cost of the auxiliary materials." The stall owner immediately bristled and angrily sat back down.

"At least we can stop the losses, and maybe we'll succeed next time," Roland joked, continuing on his way.

"Sell!"

Perhaps these words touched the stall owner's soul, for after a few seconds of hesitation, he caught up with Roland, still clutching the jar.

Charles took the bills and carefully put them into his backpack, while Roland casually pulled out two hundred-yuan bills from his pocket and handed them to the stall owner.

This generous manner made the stall owner immediately shrink back: "Take another look, I have more good stuff, really..."

"Next time," Roland waved his hand.

The stall owner's backpack did indeed have some good stuff, but that was from a potion-buying perspective; it meant nothing to Roland. The man tried to continue the fight, but Drake clashed his twin axes together with a resounding clang, the tips pressing against the man's chest and forcing him back.

The stall owner left dejectedly; the other party's entourage were all extraordinary individuals, and he dared not provoke them.

This scene also made the surrounding stall owners think a little more. The other party might be a fat sheep, but they probably didn't have the teeth to take advantage of them.

"That stuff can kill people, don't actually drink it," Percy warned worriedly.

“I’m not stupid, I have other uses,” Roland explained.

He looked at each stall, and sure enough, the items here were incredibly diverse; even with his limited knowledge, he could only name a few.

Fortunately, he had an amazing intuition, and there was also a discerning and cautious Percy by his side, so he was not fooled, but there were really not many good things.

The price of any exceptional material that caught my eye was even higher than what was sold at the trade fair, making me wish I could become rich overnight.

This is a place where extraordinary people at the bottom, or those who aspire to become extraordinary, struggle to survive. If they are not given any fertile ground to live on, the city will likely experience a lot of unrest.

"What is this?" He stopped in front of a stall and pointed to the black powder in a crystal bottle.

These powders contain extremely rich and extraordinary qualities; even the impurities give a strong feeling, and there is a pricking sensation in one's spiritual perception.

"Earth dragon bone marrow, four thousand five hundred yuan, not sold separately, no bargaining." The stall owner was wearing a black cloak, obscuring his face, and his voice was hoarse and cold.

“It’s contaminated. The genuine product is a blue paste, made from mid-series extraordinary materials,” Percy pointed out, completely unconcerned about the stall owner’s stare.

"Ha, you couldn't buy it even if you added a zero, even if it wasn't contaminated." The stall owner was very dissatisfied with Posey's behavior and spoke in a very bad tone.

“Alchemists wouldn’t touch this kind of material; it’s a waste of effort.” Percy wasn’t intimidated at all; he had a local bigwig with him, so he was very confident.

The stall owner snorted but didn't argue.

“I’ll take the thousand German dollars,” Roland said thoughtfully.

"Ha, there are no bargains to be had here," the stall owner scoffed.

Roland said nothing, got up and left.

Bosie was very curious, and after holding back for a while, he couldn't help but ask, "Roland, what do you need that for?"

“Feeding it to magical items doesn’t matter if it gets contaminated; even human extracts are barely usable.” Roland concocted a plausible excuse.

Percy gave Marcus a wink, and Marcus understood, pondering, "There's plenty of this stuff. Wild extraordinary beings don't know how to process extraordinary materials, so the contamination rate is very high."

The extraordinary properties extracted from the dead are also sold, even used in alchemy, and there are actually people willing to buy them…

As they walked and talked, Marcus led Roland to the door of a shop on a back street. There was no sign, and a broken knight's sword, stained with blood, was stuck in the door.

The shop was quite large, with a backyard. Behind the counter, there was a short old man and a tall young man tidying up the miscellaneous items. They all showed their true faces.

Marcus took off his hood and went in first.

"Marcus? You're not dead yet?" The old man had white hair and beard, but his voice sounded like that of a middle-aged man.

Marcus glanced around but didn't see the familiar figure. However, he recognized something familiar about the young man's face, and his heart skipped a beat: "Where is he?"

"Dead." After a moment of silence, the old man tossed his head nonchalantly. "You've made it big, kid. Looks like you're on your way to the middle ranks. Are you married yet?"

“I have a son who attends high school in Carmen.” Marcus pursed his lips, a hint of melancholy on his face. “I don’t want to pursue a middle school education; a stable life is fine.”

"This doesn't sound like something you'd say." The old man looked at Percy and the others behind him and could roughly guess what was going on.

"What do you want? I'll give you a 5% discount."

Marcus was speechless. The old man was still the same as before, unchanged: "Bring out all the contaminated extraordinary qualities and extraordinary materials for us to see."

The old man looked strange, but didn't ask any further questions. He pointed to the cabinet on the other side and said:

“They’re all over there.”

(End of this chapter)