Morning broke and the sun rose to announce the dawn of a new day, and the Heart City began to awaken like a heart pumping blood through a living body.
Some merchants slowly opened their shops, others spread their goods over worn-out cloths that smelled of dust, while taverns opened their doors to welcome visitors. The scent of fresh bread and light smoke from street stoves mixed with the cold breeze coming from the alleys.
Suddenly, a sharp scream pierced through the daily bustle:
"Ahhhhhhh!"
In one of the city's side streets, there was a middle-aged woman lying on the ground, her whole body trembling with fear, her skin pale as if blood had left it.
A middle-aged man appeared, muscular in appearance, wearing mourning clothes stained with soot, and in his hand was a heavy hammer that smelled of iron and sweat.
He shouted with a trembling voice, veins bulging from tension:
"Aziza! What happened?"
He ran at full speed toward her, then knelt beside her, placing his hand on her trembling shoulder.
The woman looked at the man, her wide eyes filled with pure terror, while her hand shook violently as she raised her trembling finger to point upward.
The man followed the direction of his wife's hand, and the moment he saw what she was pointing at, his eyes widened, his chest trembled with a shock that made his breath falter as if the air refused to enter.
Many people gathered, their faces pale with fear and confusion, their breathing uneven, and all their eyes fixed on a four-story building.
But what drew their gaze was not the building, but the corpse hanging from a balcony, tied by a thick rope around its arms.
The body was massive like a skinned pig, wearing torn clothes soaked in blood to the extent that a sticky red pool had formed beneath it, its iron-like stench suffocating the throats of the onlookers. And on the corpse's belly was painted a large crimson "X."
Everyone immediately recognized the corpse: it was the leader of the "Brown Bear" gang.
A heavy silence like a boulder fell upon the street, broken only by muffled sobs and cries of shock from some of the crowd.
In the next moment, several soldiers appeared, their faces stern, weapons gleaming in the sunlight, shoving the people back harshly as they surrounded the scene.
The commander of the soldiers roared in a hoarse, thunderous voice that shook the chests of the crowd:
"This area is under inspection!"
The news spread quickly like wildfire, becoming the talk of every place.
Inside a tavern, where the smell of alcohol and roasted meat mixed with smoke and sweat, many mercenaries sat eating and chattering.
One of them said, wiping his mouth with his dirty hand:
"Did you hear the news?"
Another replied: "You mean the Brown Bear gang?"
"Yes… I heard they were wiped out completely."
"Not only that… the leader's corpse was hung up too."
"Yeah, that's true, and they didn't find anything in the entire building."
"Man… who could have done this?"
"Whoever it is, it's better this way… We're rid of the trash. They used to exploit their numbers and bully the weak."
All the talk revolved around the annihilation of the gang. Some voices trembled with shock, others carried a tone of fear, while others brimmed with schadenfreude.
In a dark corner of the tavern sat a young man with gray hair, a handsome face, violet eyes reflecting a calm, cold gleam, and a small vertical scar at the corner of his mouth barely hidden by his stern features.
He wore simple, clean black cotton clothes which, despite their simplicity, looked tidy and elegant.
He ate his meal slowly and calmly, interrupted only by the sounds of chewing tender meat and the smell of roasted fat clinging to his nose. No trace of shock appeared on his face; it was as if everything happening around him did not concern him.
But the truth was that this young man was none other than Ares… the one who had wiped out the Brown Bear gang entirely.
He muttered quietly as he set his glass on the table, the sound of the glass ringing lightly:
"It seems the news has already spread…"
Ares had expected the news to spread quickly everywhere, especially after hanging the leader's corpse in public.
He smiled coldly and thought to himself:
"I'd better finish my meal quickly."
He was celebrating inwardly, for he had become rich after looting the gang's fortune the night before. That's why he had invited himself to a private feast, buying plenty of fresh, delicious meat.
Even though he had enough food stored at home after the loot, he wanted to go out to buy some necessary materials for making a special potion to strengthen his body and reach the level that would allow him to practice Aura Meditation Technique.
He quickly finished his meal, drank his juice to the last drop, then wiped his greasy mouth with a rough napkin. He pulled out a silver coin, placed it on the table, and left quietly.
His departure caused no reaction, as everyone was immersed in their chatter about what had happened to the Brown Bear gang.
Even in the streets, patrols of guards had increased noticeably, their metallic footsteps echoing through the alleys.
Ares observed everything with his cold eyes.
He muttered to himself, placing his hand behind his back:
"Now, the whole city is like a pot trembling on the fire… The guards feel insulted, the other gangs tremble like stray dogs, the merchants whisper between fear and relief, and even the Academy will begin moving its secret eyes. The annihilation of an entire gang in one night, without a sound of battle… how did this happen? Everyone will move for their own interests, and it will turn into flames devouring all sides in a bloody spiral."
Ares didn't care what would happen. On the contrary, he intended to exploit this chaos to find a suitable "pawn" to control part of the black market.
At first, Ares wanted to exterminate the gangs and seize their wealth, but he changed his mind:
"Why kill them all? One person… I'll make him control all the gangs to collect money and resources for me."
By controlling the gangs, he could build a trading chamber atop the city, where the gang members provided security and protection, concealing his activities while controlling part of the black market.
As for the target, there were three candidates for controlling the gangs.
While Ares thought about this, he moved quickly, avoiding the eyes of soldiers and their patrols, until he arrived at a shop selling used goods.
But this was no ordinary shop—it was just a front. The real business was in the back: here, secret information, rare metals, beast meat and blood, magical herbs, even human corpses and stolen graves were sold.
Of course, the identity of the other party was not simple. In his previous life, Ares had visited this place many times and knew everything about it. In fact, he knew this shop was not the only one, but part of a vast network of branches stretching from the Empire's capital "Sun" to the noble cities and neighboring kingdoms. And the owner of this network was none other than the Crown Prince himself… the same age as Ares, fifteen years old.
"To be honest… I'm still shocked this place belongs to Crown Prince Arthur."
Ares had put on a long black cloak covering his head and a mask over his face. After all, he was here to buy resources forbidden to sell without a license, and he didn't want his information reaching Arthur or becoming evidence of his actions. He knew Arthur had a sharp mind, one that missed nothing.
Ares pushed the door, and immediately the bell rang:
Ring… ring…
The shop looked exactly as Ares remembered, except that the one working here now was a hunchbacked old man.
In his previous life, Ares had only visited this place after ten years of living in this world.
The old man behind the counter was hunched over, the top of his head bald while hair remained on the sides, forming a circle of wrinkles etched deeply into his face. One large eye and one small, a hooked big nose, and a mouth with only a single tooth.
Ares approached him.
"Sir, how may I help you?"
The old man spoke calmly, scanning Ares with a scrutinizing gaze.
"Do you sell anything unusual?"
Ares's voice came out calm from behind the mask, carrying neither arrogance nor submission.
The old man laughed hoarsely, his hunchbacked frame shaking up and down:
"Hohoho… Sir, it seems you came prepared."
"Yes or no."
Ares's voice came cold this time, like a knife.
The old man slowly raised his hands, saying:
"Don't be angry, sir… I meant nothing."
Then he nodded and added:
"Yes, sir, we sell. What do you want?"
Ares spoke quickly, as if reading from a memorized list:
"One liter bottle of low-ranked beast blood, five kilograms of low-ranked beast meat, a bundle of: Blood Flowers, White Bone Cane, Poisonous Pulp, Red Thorns, and three venom glands of a Two-Horned Serpent."
The hunchbacked old man nodded and said:
"Wait here, sir, I'll bring what you asked for."
He jumped from his seat, grabbed his cane, and walked heavily toward the back door.
Ares stood waiting, hearing the slow sound of his footsteps on the wooden floor.
The old man didn't take long; he returned carrying a wooden box on his bent back.
He set it on the counter and opened it. Everything was there, giving off the scent of blood, fresh herbs, and raw meat.
Ares said coldly:
"How much is it?"
The old man replied after counting on his fingers:
"Well… fifty silver coins for the bottle, twenty-five for the meat, sixty for the herbs, and thirty for the glands… total one hundred sixty-five silver coins."
Ares calculated quickly, then pulled out a money pouch and tossed it on the counter, the metallic clink echoing heavily.
The old man counted the money carefully, then nodded.
Ares took the box without saying another word, then left quietly, his black clothes swaying with the cold breeze.
He didn't want any further conversation with the old man.
---
Ares quickly returned to his house after wandering through several winding streets and alleys, trying to avoid anyone who might be following him.
The time had passed three in the afternoon, and the city was still bustling with activity; the sounds of vendors echoed through the alleys, and the hooves of horses mingled with the cries of children and the clamor of shoppers.
Inside, Ares sat at an old wooden table and took out a bottle of dark red blood, raw pieces of meat emitting a metallic scent mixed with congealed blood, along with a dark red blood flower whose petals resembled open veins, and cold-to-the-touch white bone cane.
All of these resources were the foundation for making a potion to enhance his physical strength.
He muttered softly as he looked at the contents of the table with gleaming eyes:
"I recall that this potion was used by soldiers in the army to strengthen their bodies, after it was discovered."
This formula had not been published to the public, nor even to the nobles; it remained a secret within the walls of the royal palace and in the hands of the army's high-ranking generals.
In his previous life, when he served as a commander in the army, he had been one of the first to discover the secret of this formula.
He drifted for a moment, pressing his fingers against the table, before muttering:
"I believe the creator of this formula must have been a student at Heart Academy."
But in reality, the name of the chemist who invented it was unknown, as he had died in a bloody terrorist attack on Heart City.
His eyebrows rose slightly, and his violet eyes gleamed with a cold light as he whispered to himself:
"Perhaps… I should take him with me instead of letting him die, and exploit his formulas instead of letting them be buried with him without mentioning his name."
He felt a strange heat spreading through his chest as he thought, while his fist slowly clenched. He realized that he needed a special team, to carry out different tasks, in order to reach his goals.