Chapter 8 – Slum Market, System Whispers
Axel's hands worked quickly and efficiently, sorting through the scraps of his latest hunt—a mana boar that had provided ample resources, though not the kind most would deem valuable. The hide was thick and tough, nearly indestructible to anything short of magic-infused blades, but the meat? Well, it was stringy, tough to chew, and required a careful touch to prepare. Most in the market wouldn't have given it a second glance, but Axel had learned how to use the simplest ingredients and turn them into something of value. It was a lesson in survival. Everything had worth, if you knew how to unlock it.
The air in the market was thick with the smell of spices, roasting meats, and the ever-present stench of the slum's refuse, but Axel barely noticed it anymore. He had become accustomed to the chaos—an overwhelming mix of bargaining voices, clanging metal, and the occasional shout as a scuffle broke out between desperate buyers and sellers. The market was the lifeblood of this part of the city, a place where the weak either fell prey to those with more strength or learned to scrape by with what little they had.
Axel was somewhere between the two.
He had set up his small stall on the edge of the market, near the half-rotten piles of produce and rusted cookware. There were few customers here, but he had enough to make a decent living for the week. With his modest stock of leftover mana boar parts—tough cuts of meat, bones, and scraps of hide—he bartered with the locals. Most weren't interested in the raw materials, but he knew the value in those scraps if you looked at them through the right lens.
Axel took a deep breath, eyes scanning the crowd, assessing potential buyers. His stall wasn't much, a small wooden counter with a few hanging pots and cauldrons filled with boiling stews. He had managed to make a basic concoction that helped nourish those who couldn't afford a proper meal—combining mana boar parts with a handful of low-tier herbs he'd gathered from the surrounding area. He wasn't a master cook by any means, but he'd learned over the years how to use what little he had and make it palatable.
It was a skill born of necessity. One he'd honed through countless days of trial and error.
When he first arrived in the slums, Axel had been little more than an outsider, a stranger in a place where survival was the first and only rule. The slum market had been a maze of cutthroat traders, desperate thieves, and starved beggars. But over time, he had learned to adapt. One of his few advantages had been his unique ability to cook. His meals weren't just about taste—they had a certain... something that made them stand out. Maybe it was the subtle way he blended ingredients. Or maybe it was the magic-infused essence of the mana boar, subtly altering the flavor and energy of the food. It was the kind of food that made you feel full not just in the stomach, but in the soul.
"Stews, hot stews, fresh from the boil!" Axel shouted in his gravelly voice, offering small bowls of his concoction to anyone who would listen. It wasn't much, but the stew was filling and nourishing. He had learned over time how to tweak the flavor to fit the palate of his customers—each person who walked past brought a different set of preferences, and Axel had learned how to read them like a map.
As the hours passed, a few people came to his stall, mostly the regulars who had long since accepted his presence. Some exchanged old cookware for a bowl of stew, others offered low-tier herbs or the odd bit of salvageable meat. Axel took whatever he could, knowing that every trade added up.
The slum was full of whispers—news spread quickly in places like this, and Axel had learned to listen between the lines. He had a reputation now, even if it wasn't one of wealth or luxury. Axel was the cook, the guy who could take scraps and turn them into something that almost resembled a decent meal. It wasn't much, but it kept him afloat.
Then, it happened.
A girl—no older than fifteen, with wide, fearful eyes—stumbled past his stall. Her clothes were ragged, torn at the sleeves, and there was something desperate about the way she walked. She caught Axel's gaze, and for a moment, she hesitated. She was gaunt, like most of the children who roamed the streets of the slum, but there was a fierceness in her face—a determination that Axel had seen in too many people who were trying to survive in a place where hope was a commodity more valuable than gold.
"Can I help you?" Axel called out, lowering his voice to something softer.
The girl faltered, then glanced down at his cauldrons. The aroma of the stew hung thick in the air, and despite the scarcity of food in the market, the smell seemed to draw her closer. Axel knew that look. She wasn't just hungry—she was sick. Her movements were slow, lethargic. She was on the brink of collapse.
"I... I don't have any money," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the noise of the market. "But... can I have just a little? I need it."
Axel felt a pang of sympathy. He had seen enough desperation in this place to recognize when someone was truly in need. The girl wasn't here for a free meal; she was here because she had no choice.
Without a word, Axel ladled a bowl of stew and handed it to her. "On the house," he said simply, offering her a warm smile. It wasn't much, but sometimes a small act of kindness was all you could give.
The girl hesitated, then took the bowl with trembling hands. She brought it to her lips and sipped cautiously at first, as though afraid it might be poisoned. Axel watched her, his gaze steady.
The moment the stew touched her tongue, something shifted.
There was a subtle, almost imperceptible glow in her eyes, a flicker of energy that seemed to emanate from her body. Axel felt it too—a gentle warmth, a soothing pulse, as though the stew was doing more than just filling an empty stomach. It was as if the dish had awakened something inside her, some latent potential.
The girl's face softened, her shoulders seemed to relax, and for the first time since she'd approached his stall, she looked... almost human. The lines of exhaustion were still there, but they didn't seem as deep now. There was life in her eyes, a spark that had been missing before.
"You… feel better?" Axel asked, his voice tentative.
The girl nodded, her lips quivering in a faint, grateful smile. "Yeah... a lot better. Thank you."
Axel watched her for a moment longer, the warmth of the moment lingering. He had seen people in worse shape—seen them leave his stall with nothing but a full belly and a little bit of hope. But there was something different about this girl. Something... special. The stew had healed her, not just physically, but perhaps emotionally, too. It was the kind of food that gave you the strength to keep going, to face another day in this grim place. It was more than just sustenance—it was a lifeline.
But Axel wasn't sure if the stew was just a coincidence.
There was something else at play here.
Axel's senses were sharpened, thanks to his system. Ever since his first encounter with the strange power that had awakened within him, he had noticed certain... changes. His cooking had evolved—he could sense flavor combinations he hadn't before, or detect the latent energies in ingredients that others might miss. And, perhaps most importantly, the system had begun to speak to him, subtly guiding him in his cooking.
Fusion combinations detected. The system whispered.
Flavor affinities detected. It hummed again, this time as a deep resonance that ran through his mind like a river of possibility.
Axel blinked, as if shaken out of a trance, and looked down at his hands. His Cooking stat had risen ever so slightly, as had his Intelligence. It wasn't much, but it was enough to know that something was changing. The system had recognized something in the stew—something beyond mere nourishment.
The whispers were becoming clearer now.
Fusion combinations detected:
Mana Boar Bone + Low-tier Herb → Beast-Enhancing Broth.
Mana Boar Hide + Energy Herb → Latent Magic Enhancement.
Mana Boar Meat + Healing Herb → Vitality Restoration Stew.
Axel's eyes widened. These were more than simple recipes—they were clues, instructions for crafting meals that could do more than just fill an empty stomach. He could enhance the body, heal injuries, and possibly even unlock latent abilities in those who consumed his creations.
He hadn't realized it at first, but the girl had benefited from more than just the meal. There had been something else—an invisible energy in the dish, something subtle but powerful. It wasn't just food. It was a vessel for magic, for transformation.
The whispers of the system grew louder as Axel turned the possibilities over in his mind. He wasn't sure how far this power would take him, but he knew one thing for certain: the slum market was changing, and so was he.