This was a small, isolated bedroom. On each side, a sturdy door was secured by iron bars. Cobwebs in the corners, dust on the floor, and an abandoned kerosene lamp all indicated that no one had lived here for a long time.
At a certain moment, the void in the center of the room rippled like water, and a figure quietly emerged through the ripples. It was Carl!
Carl, holding his broad sword, first cautiously scanned his surroundings before slowly approaching the door and lifting the iron bars.
"CREAK..." The rusty iron door scraped against the ground, emitting a faint noise and causing him to pause.
I really don't want to be here!
Stepping out of the room and looking up at the sky, Carl, having lost his absolute rationality, felt his mood involuntarily sink.
A gray fog obscured the sun, making it impossible to tell if it was day or night. One could only faintly make out a shattered crimson star hanging in the sky, which remained perpetually unchanged.
It was always like this whenever he came here. This world's 'moon' did not move with the passage of time and had even usurped the authority of the scorching sun. The shattered crimson moon and the unchanging starry sky all indicated he was no longer in his original world.
It was not only the sky that was cold and dim, but also the aura that continuously seeped into his body.
This was Black City, a place renowned for its production of blackstones.
Judging by the ubiquitous pointed towers, stone buildings, and intricate carvings, Black City must have once thrived. The standard of living for the common people had even been higher than in Sigerno City. However, as veins of blackstone were discovered underground, this place gradually became a mining town. The wealthy had fled long ago. Those who remained became miners, forced not only to toil but also to endure the encroachment of the subterranean yin energy, living precarious lives from one day to the next.
Tightening his grip on his belongings, Carl advanced, broad sword in hand. He had only taken a couple of steps when his eyes suddenly narrowed. The corpse of an animal—it was unclear whether a wolf or a dog—lay in the middle of the road, with carrion flies buzzing noisily around it. Though it was just a carcass, he remained extremely vigilant, making a wide detour to avoid it before continuing on his way.
Hideous fissures of various sizes, like scars upon the earth, could occasionally be seen on the road. It was said that excessive mining had caused these terrain changes, transforming the once-smooth ground into a rugged, uneven surface. The fissures spewed smoke—sometimes scorching hot, sometimes bitingly cold. For an ordinary person, even slight contact could lead to severe illness, so they had to be avoided at all costs. There were also abandoned pits, dark shafts leading straight into the earth.
Uninhabited alleys and desolate houses seemed to harbor many strange creatures, furtively watching any living beings outside.
Carl tensed, moving quickly and quietly. After passing through two blocks, he could finally see his destination in the distance.
"WHEW..." He sighed in relief. At a gesture from two men in black, he sheathed his broad sword and stepped onto a bustling, crowded thoroughfare.
「Rakka Market.」
It was a market in the upper district of Black City.
"Rat meat! Fresh, unrotten rat meat! Half a blackstone a portion!"
"Top-quality Calir longswords! Sharp and lightweight, the best choice for slaying those half-dead creatures..."
"Clean water! Filtered, free of any impurities! Ten liters for just one blackstone!"
The vendors' calls were incessant, their enthusiasm tinged with a hint of desperation. The living conditions for Black City's residents were extremely harsh. Mining had severely polluted the underground water sources, and food was critically scarce. Only high-ranking mine supervisors could occasionally afford fresh food. Even rotten meat often found its way to the dining table.
"Kolon!"
Carl, familiar with the place, crouched in front of a stall. "You mentioned last time," he asked, "that you had a way to get a breathing method?"
Even though they were two different worlds, they shared many similarities, such as languages and breathing methods; even their writing systems had commonalities.
Perhaps long ago, these two worlds had been in contact?
"Ah, it's you." Kolon was lean. One of his eyes had been pecked out by a nether raven, and he perpetually wore an eyepatch. Recognizing his visitor, he grinned, revealing a mouthful of rotten teeth. The sight, coupled with his revolting breath, made Carl instinctively lean back.
"Breathing methods are key for an ordinary person to become a Knight. Wouldn't any family with a heritage be reluctant to sell theirs?"
"Yes." Carl's expression remained unchanged. He placed a milk bucket on the ground. "Fresh milk!"
"GURGLE..." Kolon's throat bobbed as he subconsciously licked the corner of his mouth, squinting with a smile. "My friend, you always manage to get your hands on good things. I can hardly remember the last time I had fresh milk."
"However..." He shook his head and sighed. "The person who has the breathing method isn't interested in these."
"Oh!" Carl frowned. "What does he want?"
"SHH..." Kolon leaned forward, whispering, "A way out of Black City."
"Carl, if you can get fresh milk, you must be no ordinary person. Can you help someone leave Black City?"
"Heh..." Carl rolled his eyes. "What do you think?"
"I have other reasons for being able to get food. If I were truly of high status, would I come to you looking for a breathing method?"
Kolon fell silent. He's right. True elites would never lack a breathing method.
After a pause, he continued, "Lady Butterfly's caravan departs in half a month. Joining it requires two thousand blackstones."
"That's the only way I know to leave Black City right now."
"Two thousand blackstones?" Carl's face darkened. He shook his head bluntly. "I don't have that many."
"Then there's no way." Kolon spread his hands. "I'd like to make this deal too, but that person only wants to leave Black City and isn't interested in food. There's really nothing I can do."
"HMPH!" Carl snorted softly, picking up the milk bucket to leave.
"Wait!" Kolon caught his arm, whispering, "Let me show you something good."
He furtively retrieved a metal sleeve-tube from behind him. After a bit of manipulation, it made a sharp CLICK.
"Recognize this?"
"A sleeve arrow?" Carl asked, somewhat uncertainly.
"Exactly!" Kolon nodded firmly. "My friend, you're indeed no commoner. Only some nobles recognize this. I had a hard time acquiring it myself."
"This sleeve arrow mechanism was crafted by a master artisan. It can be adjusted to fit the arm, conceals three darts, and within seven paces, even a Knight's Attendant would find it hard to dodge. If poisoned, it could even kill a Knight."
"Besides the three darts it comes with, I'll throw in an extra six for reloading when you run out."
Carl's eyes lit up. Killing a Knight was something he wouldn't dare dream of, but being able to deal with a Knight's Attendant was more than enough for him.
"Of course," Kolon grinned broadly, "one bucket of milk won't be enough for this."
Without further ado, Carl took out five pounds of cured meat he was carrying and pointed at a mantel clock on the stall.
"Give this to me."
"No problem." Seeing the deal was made, Kolon exclaimed excitedly, "Good eye, my friend! I found this mantel clock at a noble's estate. It's plated with a layer of Gold."
"Too bad!" He sighed. "Decades ago, something like this would have been worth a lot. Now, it's less useful than plain water."
Carl smiled. He was indeed interested in the mantel clock's Gold plating. Even without the Gold, it could still be considered a work of art. The clock's complex craftsmanship, gears, and engravings possessed a unique aesthetic and could potentially fetch a good price in another world.