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Chapter 228 : Black Market
Chapter 228: Black Market
The battle ended, and the mountain hollow returned to silence.
The heavy stench of blood, mixed with the acrid smell of urine, lingered thickly in the air. The slanted rays of the morning sun shone into the hollow, casting several tangible pillars of light. Dust, still unsettled from the fierce battle just now, drifted up and down in the air, making the scene appear peaceful and serene.
But the lumberjack George was not so calm at this moment. The sides of his head throbbed, his heart racing with excitement.
Lowering his gaze to the ground, all he saw was blinding green and red.
Е n̆ůmа. і̇ď
Goblin corpses, in twisted and shattered postures, covered the uneven ground of the hollow. Some skulls had been crushed, brains splattered across the gray-brown rocks like grotesque graffiti. Some had their bellies slit open, incomplete organs spilling out and drawing swarms of flies from above. More had bodies bent at impossible angles, like puppets violently snapped apart by great force.
Thick, dark-red blood soaked into the earth, gathering into pools of gore in the low-lying places.
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He moved a step, suddenly stepping on a severed finger. The sensation instantly sent goosebumps all over his body, making him shiver and recoil instinctively.
But with a wet “squelch,” he crushed an eyeball underfoot.
“Ah!”
George gave a short, startled cry, jerking his foot up as his body staggered a few steps uncontrollably.
Е ň u m̆ а̀
The soft-yet-firm sensation beneath his shoe, suddenly collapsing with a burst, along with that faint yet incomparably clear “splat” sound—these awful impressions repeated and magnified endlessly in his mind.
Looking down, he saw the edge of his worn shoe smeared with sticky yellow-white fluid. A crushed eyeball, barely recognizable in shape, clung there.
In that instant, a strong wave of nausea surged up from his stomach to his throat.
He spun around, bracing against a nearby rough rock, and retched violently.
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But though his stomach churned fiercely, nothing came out—only bitter bile rose again and again.
He gasped for breath, trying to calm himself through sheer breathing. Yet the pervasive, suffocating stench of blood only made his head spin all the more.
W̊ ē b̃ ńо v e l̇ .Е̄ ṅ ům̊ а
His whole body trembled—not merely from physical nausea, but from a primal, instinctive fear and revulsion toward death and mutilation.
Gauss, hearing the commotion, turned his head to glance at the lumberjack.
He had already expected this scene. But since the man had insisted on coming along, he could hardly be blamed for what followed.
Such bloody sights—unless one was an adventurer like himself, long since accustomed—were nearly impossible for ordinary people to face without breaking down.
Keeping his expression calm, Gauss stepped across the ground, beginning to collect the spoils of battle.
He focused on smaller but valuable iron tools.
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As for Goblin Left Ears, those proof items, his Clay Creatures handled the task. They were quite useful for mechanical, repetitive work.
Walking to the Goblin Shaman’s body,
Gauss paused, then took out a fine dagger and a piece of shroud cloth.
Crouching down, he pulled free the spear that had pinned the shaman to the rock wall. Then, with precise strokes of the dagger, he opened the upper body. Slipping his gloved hands inside its abdomen, he searched briefly and indeed found a glowing tumor. He cut it free, wrapped it in shroud cloth, and tucked it away.
This was the magic source possessed by spellcasting monsters.
Unlike human mages, who harnessed magical energy with skill, these creatures used it crudely. Within their bodies, raw magic often condensed into such cores. Though rough, they served as fine materials for research or certain spells.
Wе b̆ n̂ ŏv e l̊ Е n ū m а̂
The wooden staff the Goblin Shaman had carried was also a wood type well-suited for conducting magical energy.
And then...
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Gauss’s hands moved swiftly as he gathered more spoils.
Once finished, he stood, sweeping his gaze over the land further littered by Clay Creatures collecting ears. Confirming that no Goblin survivors remained in any corner, he looked at the lumberjack, whose trembling shoulders had begun to calm somewhat.
“Forget all of this. Tonight, go back and sleep well.” His voice carried a subtle power.
The lumberjack George, who had felt both fear and awe toward Gauss amidst the gore, found his emotions slowly settling. “Alright.”
Е n̂ ù m̊ а . і̇ d́
When the two returned to the logging camp, the other workers quickly surrounded the “lucky” George, pressing for news.
“You’re back so soon? Did you find those Goblins?”
George gave an awkward smile, glancing at Gauss. Seeing his calm expression, showing no sign of exposing him, George finally relaxed.
He forced a grin, waving his hand casually. “All taken care of, all taken care of. Mister Gauss is incredible—those little green-skins didn’t stand a chance. He cleared them out in just a few moves.”
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He deliberately left out the bloody details and his own humiliating reaction, instead recounting only vague but heroic results. The workers gasped in awe, their gazes toward Gauss filled with reverence. But Gauss merely nodded slightly, offering no extra words.
When the foreman invited him to stay for a meal, he waved it off.
E n u̇m а̄
“I’ll skip the food. I still have commissions to run.” He took the chocobo’s reins from the stablehand. “I’ve marked the Goblin lair’s location on the map. There are still some useful supplies and spoils there. You can bring people to collect them and clean up the site. Best to burn the corpses.”
He had already taken what was worth his time. With such a large monster camp, he neither had the leisure nor the need to carry all the miscellaneous goods. Better to leave them to the villagers here.
He handed over the simple map he had sketched along the way.
“No problem, leave it to us! Thank you so much, Mister Gauss.” The foreman quickly accepted, patting his chest in guarantee.
Gauss nodded, swung onto the chocobo, and with a flick of the reins, the bird let out a crisp cry, striding off steadily. Under many watching eyes, he swiftly departed the camp, heading toward the farmland where a Berserk Boar had been sighted—the next commission site.
No sooner had he left than the loggers hurried into action.
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“Don’t just stand there, grab your gear! Bring plenty of sacks—Mister Gauss left us the good stuff, so let’s move quick.”
“We can sell it all together later, everyone gets a share.”
What Gauss dismissed as worthless spoils was, to them, a welcome windfall.
Time slipped into the afternoon.
Gauss looked at the Clay Goblin he had just slain and nodded calmly.
The following two ordinary commissions brought no surprises. Everything matched the descriptions.
Ӗ n̆ u m̄_ä .îd̀
The Berserk Boar was slightly larger than normal, with sharper tusks, frightening strength, and thick hide. Indeed, no commoner could have handled it.
The Goblins at the abandoned village were ordinary as well—average in numbers, equipment, and morale. They didn’t even have a proper leader. Other than Left Ears, there was little worth taking.
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“This is how it should be.”
Gauss whispered softly.
He stretched out his hand, summoning the Clay Goblin before him.
This Goblin’s clay material had been purchased from the second floor of the Adventurer’s Guild. Overall, it was not bad, and after absorbing the spirituality of dozens of Goblins and that Goblin Shaman, it had undergone subtle, indescribable changes.
E̊ n̄ŭ m̈а . і̀d̆
Its attack posture had become more agile, unlike before—when it had strength in abundance, but lacked technique.
「What a pity, the amount of clay is still too little.」
After its spirituality grew stronger, the Clay Goblin could grow larger in size while still perfectly sustaining operations.
「I wonder if anyone has taken the commission I posted for clay-type magical items?」
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Such special magical item collection commissions were not ones that would be immediately accepted and completed.
Because they had entry barriers, involving specialized magical item collection, they usually required Professionals to take part. And for Professionals, compared to time-consuming, difficult collection tasks with little guidance, they preferred steady extermination or escort commissions.
Е̇ nũ m̆ а̊
「Monster Kill Count: 3103」
In just half a day, he had completed three more commissions. Gauss felt his efficiency was not bad.
Many things were like this—once familiar, techniques came naturally. Searching for enemies, fighting, scavenging—a seamless series of steps like flowing water.
「Let’s go back.」 With the missions done, Gauss did not linger.
By the time he returned to Canopy Town, it was still only afternoon.
He hurried straight to the Adventurer’s Guild to submit the missions.
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First, he reported the abnormal intelligence regarding the Goblin commission around the logging site.
In response, the Canopy Town Adventurer’s Guild treated it with great seriousness. Soon, the receptionist brought out a senior director of the branch to meet Gauss.
The senior director of the Canopy Town branch was an elder of the Spirit-winged race. Some guilds had such senior administrative positions to assist the president and vice-president with their duties.
The elder’s temples were graying, but his eyes were sharp as a hawk’s. Dressed in a well-tailored guild uniform, with a stag-head brooch pinned to his chest, he exuded scholarly grace.
After leading Gauss into a quiet reception room for a detailed talk, the elder rose and expressed his thanks solemnly.
「Mister Gauss, thank you very much for your timely feedback. This was a grave oversight in our work. I will report this anomaly to higher-ups. Any developments will be communicated to you.」
Е̇nu ḿ а̂ .і̂ d
「Furthermore, once verified, as per procedure, we will provide compensation of 10 gold coins.」
Gauss nodded.
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This was indeed no small issue. It might have seemed easy for him, but that was only because his strength far exceeded that of low-level adventurers.
For an ordinary commission like this, he shuddered to think—if a small team of three or four had taken it, with no time or ability to scout the terrain properly, the losses would have been catastrophic.
Low-level adventurers did not possess the diverse scouting methods of Professionals. Even if they had the awareness, their investigations were often unreliable.
He had not come here for compensation, though of course, having it was better than not—it was extra effort on his part, after all.
Enum ă. і̃ d̊
But more than that, he wanted the Adventurer’s Guild to identify the problem quickly and prevent such incidents from recurring.
On his very first commission, faulty intelligence had led to disaster. His temporary team back then had suffered heavy casualties, and the squad disbanded as a result.
Because he had once endured the rain, he now hoped to hold an umbrella for others.
Still—10 gold coins... He could not help recalling the compensation for his first commission: around 10 silver coins. Now it was one hundred times more.
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Was it because his identity was different now?
Shaking his head, he sighed inwardly.
Ĕ n̄ûm̆ а
After submitting his feedback and receiving the rewards for the three commissions, Gauss went to the second floor. He scanned the bulletin board and soon found the one he had posted.
The sheet was still there. Checking with the receptionist, he learned that no one had taken it yet.
「Mister Gauss, these kinds of material-collection tasks often require some luck and time.」
Gauss nodded. The commission had only been up for two days; he hadn’t expected news so soon. It was simply his habit to check each day.
「If you are in a hurry, you could try the informal market.」 The receptionist offered kindly. 「But there are usually no guards there, and order is lacking. You’ll need to be careful.」
「Thank you.」 Gauss asked for the location, then left the Adventurer’s Guild.
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Back at the inn.
He settled the chocobo in the small shed behind the inn, providing feed and water.
After bathing, he changed into casual clothes and set out for the market the receptionist had mentioned.
Even aside from purchasing quality clay, he could sell the Goblin Shaman’s tumor to alchemical shops.
Reporting, washing, resting—by the time all was done, the sky had darkened.
Along the streets, windproof lamps and oil lamps were lit one by one. Fixed to wooden poles or jutting from eaves, they cast hazy circles of warm yellow light.
Ŵ е̊b̂ n̄ о̇ v̈ĕl̈ Ёn̂ûṁ a.
The glow was not strong, barely pushing back the street-side darkness. Moths and glow-seeking insects fluttered tirelessly around them.
Townsfolk finished with labor, adventurers done with commissions—these made up the night crowd, conversing in pairs and groups as they walked toward taverns, homes, or still-open shops.
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Gauss, clear in purpose, cut through the noisy streets toward the northeastern corner of town.
As he went, the bustle of the main road faded, replaced by a different atmosphere.
Reaching his destination, Gauss stood at the mouth of an alley and looked in.
Here the lights were more numerous, but not warm yellow. Instead, multicolored lanterns, flickering candles, and the peculiar blue-orange glow of alchemical furnaces lit the street.
Е n ū m а
The shifting colors painted the place in strange, gaudy hues.
The air was thick with strange scents: pungent herbs, acrid reagents, and faint traces of lingering magic.
This was Canopy Town’s unofficial 「market—a self-organized trading zone formed by alchemy apprentices, material traders, independent craftsmen, Professionals, and all manner of speculators.
Just as Gauss paused to observe, a commotion sounded ahead.
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「Don’t run!」
「Catch her! She stole from us!」
Еn û m̌ а̊. ǐd
A figure wrapped entirely in a black robe leapt lightly from a third-floor balcony not far away. In midair, her gaze briefly met Gauss’s.
She landed firmly, kept moving without pause, and swiftly passed right by him.
Gauss turned, watching her fleeing back, his brow faintly furrowing.
「Feels…」
Moments later, several men came rushing out of the alley, panting.
「Where is she? Where did she run?」 The leader, a burly man with a face full of flesh, bellowed roughly, his eyes sweeping the sparse bystanders.
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Finally, his gaze settled on Gauss—tall, imposing, and clearly different from ordinary folk.
「Hey, you!」 The man rudely pointed at him. 「Didn’t we tell you to stop her just now?」
「Oh?」 Gauss raised a brow.
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