Chapter 517 - 517 Prominent Merchant

Lumian ignored the stunned silence that followed his question. A smirk played on his lips as he addressed the group,

So, where can a fellow find some mystical trinkets around here?

Upon hearing this question, Batna Comt couldnt help but raise his right hand and finish his remaining Golden Somme.

Where did this punk come from?

How could he ask such a question in public?

Even if n.o.body reported him, theyd only see him as a fool!

For a moment, Batna regretted accepting Louis Berrys invitation. This fellow would tarnish his reputation by a.s.sociation.

Noticing the odd expressions around the bar, Lumian gave a nonchalant shrug. He holstered his revolver and announced,

Looks like youre all just ordinary folk, then.

With that, he leaped off the wooden platform, navigating through the startled crowd back to the counter.

The two drunkards hed thrown out, along with the others who had been frightened by him, measured his strength and weapons, choosing not to retaliate.

Back on his barstool, Lumian ordered a Lanti Proof with a grin at Batna.

Port Farim is certainly more open than Trier.

Batna studied Louis Berry with an are you serious? expression, forcing a smile.

We must follow Gehrman Sparrows career, not his actions.

Is this fellow so obsessed with Gehrman Sparrow that he mimics his cold, reckless demeanor?

Gehrman Sparrow, at least, had the strength to back up his madness. What about you?

Furthermore, Gehrman Sparrow exudes a cold and indifferent madness, while you are reckless, foolish, and brainless. How can the two be equal?

Lumian ignored Batnas jab and turned the conversation to the recent surge in pirate activity in the Fog Sea.

After finis.h.i.+ng his Lanti Proof, he bid farewell to Batna and headed out. Walking through the bustling open-air market, he made his way towards the harbor.

Just as Lumian returned to the square plastered with announcements, a sudden jolt sent him whirling around.

A male Islander, sporting a half-top hat and a dusty black jacket, approached hesitantly, a strained smile plastered on his face.

I saw you at the bar earlier.

Cut to the chase, Lumian urged impatiently.

The Islander, his brownish-black skin stretched over a lean face, leaned in and lowered his voice.

Looking for mystical items, are we? I know just the place.

Really? Lumian asked in disbelief.

Cant promise anything, but its worth a shot. Just dont buy anything if they turn out unsuitable. The Islanders gaze flicked to Lumians left armpit. Besides, youre armed and dangerous. Not exactly an easy target for robbery, right?

Thats true. Lumian contemplated this for a moment, then gave a slow nod. Whats your name?

Carmel. The Islander gestured towards a narrow street branching off the square. Follow me. Its close.

Lumian trailed nonchalantly behind Carmel, their path crossing two streets before they arrived in a district eerily reminiscent of Rue Anarchie.

Crumbling buildings huddled close, new construction jostling for s.p.a.ce amidst the narrow road.

Carmel led Lumian into a dimly lit laundry shop, its interior draped with damp clothes. They navigated the maze of hanging garments, arriving finally deep inside the dark room.

There was a door there.

Disguise yourself first, Carmel instructed, retrieving two hooded black robes from a hook nearby. Those who dabble in such things prefer to keep their ident.i.ties secret.

Lumian donned the robe, pulling the hood low over his face. Carmel then rapped on the door in a specific rhythm.

It creaked open, revealing a makes.h.i.+ft living room furnished with an old sofa, threadbare armchairs, and a mismatched a.s.sortment of furniture.

Six figures, cloaked in identical robes, sat in various positions, their faces obscured by the shadows.

Lumian politely closed the door behind him as Carmel made a brief introduction.

After the two pulled up a stool and sat down, a man with his hood pulled low leaned forward and whispered,

I need a Royal Jellyfishs venom crystal. I can offer 5,000 verl dor.

Silence.

The next partic.i.p.ant sold a Strange Sea Eagle eyeball he had procured.

Seeing that their discussion was on point, Lumian stood up and surveyed the gathering.

I need a Sphinxs brain. Name your price.

The man seeking the Crown Jellyfishs venom crystals voice was carefully controlled as he replied, I happen to have one. If you pay me 30,000 verl dor, its yours.

How can I be sure of its authenticity? Lumian asked him directly.

The Strange Sea Eagle eyeball seller interjected in a raspy voice, I can notarize it for you.

Excellent. Let me take a look at the goods first, Lumian smiled, approaching the seller.

The man replied calmly, Such a valuable mystical item, you wouldnt expect me to carry it around, would you?

Ill only bring it to you if you pay a 50% deposit first. Its upstairs. You can follow me and make sure I dont escape. You can even put the deposit with the Notary for safekeeping.

Very reasonable. Just as Lumian finished speaking, he suddenly lunged at the trader with the speed of a cheetah, a right hook swinging through the air.

Bang!

The man crumpled to the ground, his teeth flying in a spray of blood.

The other partic.i.p.ants, including the Notary and Carmel, were momentarily stunned before scrambling for the door.

None of them challenged Lumians a.s.sault, nor attempted to use their powers. Their sole focus was on escape.

Carmel, closest to the exit, flung open the door and bolted.

In an instant, his vision blurred, and he found himself back in the simple living room, alongside two others who had suffered the same fate.

They all looked bewildered, as if witnessing a folktale come alive.

Bang!

A yellow bullet slammed into the exit door.

The hooded figures huddled down, covering their heads with practiced movements.

Lumian spun around, pulled back the traders hood, and pressed the revolvers muzzle against his forehead.

Not a bad scam, Lumian said with a smile.

He had orchestrated an impromptu conspiracy, drawing attention with a gunshot in the bar and publicly expressing his need for a mystical item. This allowed him to identify any greedy pirates or local swindlers who might possess knowledge beyond the reach of ordinary citizens, including black market information.

It was also a way to digest the potion.

The seller was a typical Islander, with brownish-black skin, a long face, gentle features, and dark amber eyes.

I wasnt lying to you! he insisted anxiously and angrily.

Really? Lumian c.o.c.ked the revolvers hammer.

Before closing the door, Lumian had created a Bottle of Fiction, setting a condition that only Beyonders could enter.

None of the partic.i.p.ants had successfully escaped, which confirmed the absence of Beyonders.

If youre not a Beyonder, why mention the main ingredient of the Conspirer potion? Just for fun?

The seller trembled and stammered, I-Im sorry. We just wanted to scam some money. We-we cant survive otherwise!

Lumian wasnt interested in their motives. He glanced at the neatly lined-up accomplices and tapped the traders forehead with the guns muzzle.

Whats your name?

Roddy, the seller replied, swallowing hard.

Another tap to the forehead.

Where did you hear about the Sphinx brain, Crown Jellyfishs venom crystal, and Notary?

This information was inaccessible to ordinary people.

I-I cant say. A sheen of cold sweat appeared on Roddys forehead.

Confidentiality agreement or other restrictions? Lumian studied Roddy for a few seconds and smiled.

Then tell me who your master is.

Roddy froze, his eyes widening in fear.

He hadnt expected the other party to be so certain he had a master, that he was someone elses servant.

Three, two Lumian began the countdown.

Its Sir Morgalla, Roddy blurted out.

Then take me there, Lumian calmly requested.

Roddys sweating intensified.

No, no, Im Monsieur Fidels attendant.

Hes the vice president of the Port Farim Joint Chamber of Commerce.

Partic.i.p.ating in numerous mysticism gatherings organized by Fidel as an attendant? Although he cant divulge the corresponding information to others, he can use the information he obtained to swindle adventurers? Lumian stood up thoughtfully, dismantled the Bottle of Fiction, and led Carmel and his swindler accomplices out. He interrogated them one by one and confirmed that Roddy was indeed Fidel Guerras attendant.

One of the vice president of the Port Farim Joint Chamber of Commerces primary tasks was to a.s.sist pirates in handling sensitive and illegal cargo.

Port Farim, Quartier des Black Pearls, Governor-Generals Office, 16 Rue Coreas.

Lumian patted Roddy, now donned in his red attendants attire with gold tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs and crisp white pants. A smile played on Lumians lips as he spoke.

Tell Monsieur Fidel that Im interested in purchasing some mystical ingredients and would appreciate the opportunity to discuss it further.

Alright. Roddy yearned to utter a single plea: If you could kindly remove the revolver from my back, I would be eternally grateful.

Leaning against the weathered wall of a nearby house, Lumian watched as the swindler nervously entered Unit 16, the four-story gray-roofed building adorned with numerous statues.

The moment Roddy stepped inside, escaping the revolvers direct aim, his first instinct was to bury the whole incident and forget it ever happened.

But then he remembered the chilling warning delivered by the man who fired without hesitation: a ten-minute silence from Fidel, and Roddys true colors as a swindler would be painted loudly across the street.

Should I lie and claim Monsieur Fidel is unavailable? But he doesnt seem easily duped. A drastic reaction could be worse Roddy, caught in a dilemma, clenched his teeth and rapped on the study door.

Fidel Guerra, a man descended from both Intis and Feynapotter blood, possessed curly black hair that had started to show signs of age, dark brown eyes, and skin darkened by the sun. Though once known for his refined demeanor, time had etched its mark on his face, leaving behind a mane of mottled white hair and prominent wrinkles.

Dressed in a crisp white s.h.i.+rt and a brown vest, he quietly sipped his wine as Roddy, trembling with fear, stammered out their confession. He spoke of their ill intentions, of their attempt to swindle the new adventurer.

As soon as Roddy mentioned Lumian leaping onto the wooden platform, firing a shot to attract attention, and boldly inquiring about obtaining a mystical item, the merchant sighed and interrupted his fl.u.s.tered attendant.

Theres no need to elaborate further. Does he wish to see me now?