met free Chapter 28 The Mist Exchange
Chapter 28 The Mist Exchange
As Suren strolled down the street, his mind was far from calm. The question from Eras Mercury seemed like a normal discussion among academic enthusiasts, but Suren sensed something different about it.
Suren rarely engaged in such philosophical discussions. The world he lived in was constantly rife with bizarre and unpredictable tales, and he spent every day teetering between life and death, leaving him no time to ponder such questions.
After arriving in this world, although the quality of life decreased, the overall level of danger was reduced, which allowed Suren to gradually adapt and even find this kind of life not bad.
However, the death of Old Vic, the distorted worldview of the superhumans, and the extreme rule of the Church still made Suren feel somewhat disoriented, which was also his motivation to pursue the truth.
Suren was somewhat helpless. He had only been in this world for a short time and had already encountered so many strange people. Compared to them, the oblivious Karl seemed rather normal.
It was nearing noon, and Suren needed to figure out what to do for lunch. Between a fancy restaurant and the pre-made meals from the Dead Bird, Suren ultimately chose the latter, for no other reason than—poverty.
"Once I'm in a safer situation, I'll definitely treat myself to a big meal."
Suren made up his mind in his heart.
Upon arriving at the duty station, Suren pushed open the familiar wooden door, only to find Karl standing in front of the notice board, intently selecting bounties.
Suren walked up behind Karl and patted him on the shoulder. Karl was startled and straightened his back, turning around abruptly. After seeing that it was Suren, he breathed a sigh of relief and complained, "Why do you walk so quietly? You scared me!"
"You're just staring too intently. Looks like your injury is almost healed. What are you planning to do now?" Suren didn't bother to argue with Karl, but instead pointed to the notice board.
Carl patted his ribs and said smugly, "This little injury is nothing. Making money is more important than this."
You know, my dream has always been to become a rich man and then a big shot in the church…”
"Then we can improve life in Loren, right? Ever since I met you, you've been talking about this all the time." Suren interrupted Karl impatiently. "Karl, haven't you ever thought that with so many geniuses in the church, if they really wanted to, I don't think there would be so many people living in the slums?"
Take your most admired Mr. Anthony Fairfax, for example; all he invented was that inedible Anthony bread.
Carl clearly didn't understand the implied meaning behind Suren's words. He pouted and replied somewhat dissatisfiedly, "It's precisely because we lack important figures from poor backgrounds like us that things are like this."
"If I could become a saint, I would definitely make Loren Town better!"
Suren was somewhat helpless. He stopped talking and left Karl alone in front of the notice board to continue looking at the bounty.
Inside the canteen of the duty station, Suren ate the hastily heated corn porridge, Karl's naive words still echoing in her mind.
"Regardless, find an opportunity to give him some pointers. As for whether he can become a saint, that's up to him."
Suren made up his mind that this was all he could do as a friend; at least Karl would be safer after his strength improved.
After finishing lunch, Suren headed to the Tulip Bar, where he was going to the "Mist Exchange" to sell the two "Evil Spirit Dust Crystals".
Following the familiar path back to the workers' district, enduring the thick fog, and after passing through three alleys, I finally arrived at the Tulip Bar located by the dock.
Suren walked along the alley to the right of the bar. The air was filled with a nauseating smell of excrement, cheap tobacco, and cheap alcohol, which made Suren involuntarily cover his nose.
Finally, at the end of the alley, Suren found the "crippled Tom" that Carl had mentioned earlier. He was sleeping on the floor, which was stained with an unknown liquid, and was snoring softly.
Suren kicked the other man awake, and before he could speak, he tossed him a copper penny. "Crippled Tom" caught the penny with an agility beyond that of a vagrant, and he heard Suren's voice in his ear: "I want three pounds of Northern Bloodflower."
Tom the Cripple glanced sleepily at Suren, his gaze lingering on his uniform for two seconds before struggling to his feet and limping toward a dilapidated wooden door on the south side of the alley.
Suren followed closely behind him, and soon the two pushed open the wooden door and entered a dilapidated warehouse, which reeked of a strong fishy smell.
"Tom the Cripple" pushed aside a pile of rotten barrels and walked inside, then rhythmically tapped three times on what appeared to be an ordinary floor.
After a long while, just when Suren thought "Crippled Tom" had come to the wrong place, the floorboards opened a crack, and a pair of cloudy eyes looked him up and down before the entire floorboards were moved away.
Below the floor was a steep wooden staircase, on which stood an old man holding a candle. The old man turned and went downstairs, telling Suren to follow him.
Suren followed the old man down the creaking stairs, and the light overhead gradually disappeared, probably because "Crippled Tom" had closed the floorboards.
They reached the bottom after walking for a short while. The old man pushed open the wooden door, and a blast of damp, cold air rushed in. A noisy commotion could be heard in Suren's ears.
As Suren was about to step inside, the old man stretched out his hand to stop him. His voice was a little hoarse as he slowly uttered two words: "One pound."
Suren paused for a moment, then took a gold pound from his purse and placed it in the old man's palm. The old man picked it up, examined it for a moment, and then stopped stopping Suren. After Suren entered the room, he closed the door.
Suren looked around and found that the interior space was very large. It seemed to be a converted basement. Some steam pipes could be seen exposed on the ceiling, emitting a low rumbling sound.
The entire basement was quite bright and clean, as if it were in a completely different world from the dirty alley above.
The lighting here is not provided by gas lamps, but by a special type of lamp that Suren recognized—a kind of alchemical product made of "glossy stone." A single lamp can last for three years and is not expensive, costing only 10 pounds.
However, supporting lighting in a 100-square-meter space is still a considerable expense, which is enough to give a glimpse into the financial strength of the "Mist Exchange".
Directly in front of the room was a heavy, long counter, which was arranged in a circular shape. Inside the counter stood several people in uniforms, and many people were conducting transactions with these people.
Behind the counter, on the wall, hung some simple shelves displaying samples of weapons and materials, with prices listed.
Suren guessed that this was probably the official trading area of the "Mist Exchange," handled by internal staff, and the prices were likely not very attractive.
To the left of the room is a free trade area with many stalls, just like the flea market that Suren had seen in books in his previous life.
In addition, many people are shouting their trading needs here and engaging in free trading.
Suren also noticed that around the entire room, roughly every 5 meters, there was a guard wearing light armor and carrying a long spear.
It should be noted that even muzzle-loading single-shot rifles are contraband under the control of the church.
Based on Suren's experience, it's reasonable to assume that such an underground black market would dare to use contraband so openly, as they must have secretly bribed high-ranking church officials.
Reporting rashly will only cause the whistleblower to disappear; it will have no other effect.