The young man's fate left Ethan dumbstruck.
Wasn't that just an old-world bar scam?
The era was primitive, but the scam technology was absurdly advanced—three sentences, and they'd made someone pay a full gold lion.
Ethan lingered in the crowd a little longer, watching the youth get hauled toward the loan sharks and take out a "fast loan" for one gold lion. The moment the gold lion changed hands, the youth's spirit collapsed completely. His gaze went vacant, and he forced his mouth into a smile like a puppet on strings.
He'd given up.
It wasn't just sympathy that weighed on Ethan's mood.
It was his dream of freeloading skill books.
He'd planned to find a bookshop and read without buying—but with the way Wallhearth Bay operated, he'd probably be forced to purchase the book just for brushing his fingers over the cover.
Forget it.
As Ethan moved with the flow of people across the merchant ship, he slowly figured out its layout.
The deck was the "casual zone." Temporary vendors sold everything—food, alcohol, foreign trinkets—while the ship's management charged each stall ten gold lions per day for space.
The permanent stores were down in the cabins, far more organized than the chaotic deck.
Scroll shops. Potion stalls. Taverns where you could buy information.
And if you had the coin… you could "relax," too.
While Ethan was sightseeing, a girl in a dancer's dress and veil stopped him.
One gold lion to see her face. Even more "premium services" inside.
Ethan immediately declared he was a free-to-play customer and left under her disgusted stare.
He stuck to one principle: look all you want, but don't spend.
Even so, when he passed a mysticism bookstore and saw a sign that read—
"Reading Day: Half Price Storewide"
—his heart still twitched.
Not bringing his savings card had been the smartest decision of his life.
Mugram's equipment shop wasn't hard to find. It sat in the most obvious cabin spot on the second ship.
Old Mu's Spiritcraft Shop.
And beneath the sign—
Containment Bureau—Handpicked Selection.
Ethan knew he'd come to the right place.
People without backing didn't dare slap "Containment Bureau" on their storefront.
The moment Ethan stepped inside, the shelves hit him like a wall—bottles, sprays, tool kits, odds and ends piled together in dazzling chaos. The layout felt like a library: shelf after shelf, aisles barely wide enough for two people.
Once you entered, you were boxed in by goods on all sides.
"Containment Bureau recruiting again?" a weathered voice called from behind the counter.
"Hello, I'm—"
Ethan froze.
"…A treefolk?!"
His hand shot out, pointing at the treefolk figure standing behind the counter like a mascot. The only reason Ethan hadn't greeted earlier was because the thing looked like a decorative artifact more than a living being.
Dry bark-like skin. Brown, cracked texture.
Anyone would've assumed it was a cursed display item.
In two years, this was Ethan's first time seeing a treefolk—one of the rare races.
Ivy hadn't mentioned anything about Mugram's species.
"You're saying you're the treefolk? No, I'm the treefolk."
It clearly wasn't the first time someone had called him that.
"I'm Mugram. Owner of this shop. Call me Old Mu."
Realizing how rude he'd been, Ethan immediately declared his political stance.
"Sorry. I've never met another race in person. But please rest assured—I support racial harmony."
"Relax. I used to work for the Containment Bureau too."
A treefolk couldn't really make facial expressions, but Ethan could hear nostalgia in Old Mu's voice.
"That was more than ten years ago. I was young once too."
"Senior!"
Ethan wasted no time cozying up. Then he explained why he was here.
"I'm here to buy basic equipment."
"Mhm. Let's see…"
Old Mu flipped through a list with stiff fingers.
"Brookwood Town intelligence outpost. One 'Basic Starter Pack.' Reserved. Prepared."
He bent down and dragged out a box stuffed with sprays and bottles.
He picked up the first spray, twisted the cap, and punctured the inner seal with a thin finger.
"Dark Creature Begone 3.0. Upgraded from 2.0. Adds two new targets: demon toads and goblins. Major technological breakthrough. Also works—somewhat—on humans."
"…It works on humans?"
"It won't harm them. But the formula includes a pungent odor—SI-0733 mucus. Excrement. Ten times stinkier than human feces. One speck on you, and everyone will think you fell into a latrine."
"Don't point that at me!"
Ethan reacted instantly, vanishing behind a shelf in one sidestep. He hadn't expected the first item to be a biological weapon.
"Hm? That won't do. You'll have to get used to that smell sooner or later."
"…Why would I ever have to get used to that smell?"
A bad feeling crept up Ethan's spine.
Old Mu looked utterly unconcerned.
"Do you know how to use it?"
"When a dark creature charges me, I spray it in the face!"
Ethan said it like it was a sacred truth.
Old Mu chuckled.
"Classic rookie. If you do that, you'll already be dead. The correct answer is: the moment you suspect dark creatures nearby—or the moment they sense you—spray yourself."
Ethan's soul left his body.
"…Excuse me?"
"Don't underestimate Research Department wisdom. Data shows most known dark creatures instinctively avoid excrement. If you make your scent resemble waste, they lose interest immediately."
Old Mu paused, sounding almost amused.
"In that regard, they're not so different from humans. After all, no normal person attacks a pile of dung."
Ethan suspected he was being insulted. But he couldn't prove it.
Also, wasn't that basically turning yourself into a self-destruct truck?
So Ethan made a decision.
He would rather die than spray 3.0 on himself.
"Teach me something else," Ethan said, cautiously peeking out.
His eyes slid past the ominous black liquids in the box. He chose not to touch unknown fluids and pointed at something that looked like an old pager.
"What's that for?"
"Where Are the Dark Creatures 2.1. Patched the 2.0 flaw where it failed under interference from evil god rituals. Simply put, it's a detector. You'll be dealing with it every day."
Ethan finally breathed out.
"Okay. That sounds normal. It detects dark creatures?"
"More precisely, it detects the alignment waves they produce. The 2.0 line added threat grading. Blue means normal. Yellow means weak alignment disturbance nearby. Red—"
Old Mu stopped.
Because the moment he turned it on, the needle slammed into the far edge of the red zone—almost like it wanted to burst the device.
But this was Lofik Consortium territory.
How could there be an out-of-control dark creature here?
"Red means… what?" Ethan asked, throat dry.
He already knew. He just didn't want to accept it.
His position faced the door.
He saw the figure walking toward him—heavy footsteps shaking the floor with each step. Behind the mask were bloodshot eyes, locked on him like prey.
For a moment, Ethan thought:
This miserable world is truly ending.
The figure's clothes were soaked through, clinging tightly and tracing a breathtaking silhouette.
Ethan couldn't appreciate any of it.
When she stopped in front of him, he forced out the words.
"…Huh. Why are you completely soaked?"
A laugh curled from behind the mask, low and demonic. A gloved hand—still damp with seawater—cupped Ethan's face with terrifying tenderness.
"Yeah," she murmured.
"Why am I completely soaked?"
Ethan smelled the sea.
His mind went blank, leaving behind only one thought:
That uncontrollable fury…
That hatred…
This is Uchiha Obito coming for revenge.
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