Chapter 6 : Even this other world has bundle deals !

Schiller pulled his cloak tighter, tucking his face into its deep shadows as he navigated the alleys thick with the stench of decay.
He repeatedly sifted through the chaotic memory fragments of the original owner in his mind while keeping his ears pricked, the corners of his eyes constantly scanning the shadows behind him. Only after confirming he wasn’t being followed did he confidently turn into a dead-end alley.

Just one block away from the red-light district, he unhesitatingly climbed a small mountain of garbage emanating an even stronger stench of rot. He nimbly pushed aside a deliberately piled stack of broken wooden boxes and discarded cloth, revealing a dilapidated wooden door just large enough for one person to pass through.

The “Nightingale’s Nest”—this black market entrance located beneath the red-light district, was like a great abyss swallowing everyone’s desires.

Just as he was about to push the door to enter the bar, the door was pushed open from the inside. A figure, also tightly wrapped and hard to discern, brushed past him.

The person seemed eager to hide their tracks, hurrying past him.

“!” The person stumbled, bumping straight into Schiller.

“Sorry!” The voice was deliberately raspy, but it couldn’t completely hide its clear, beautiful quality.

The eyes under the hood glanced at Schiller for a moment, then turned and left.

Schiller only caught a faint, cold, exotic scent, and felt the shape of a sword hilt on his bumped side. Without time to think further, he slipped inside.

The interior of the bar was dim and murky. Figures of all shapes and sizes whispered in the corners, and the air was filled with a dangerous mixture of conspiracy, desire, and alcohol.

Schiller ignored the probing or greedy gazes thrown his way and headed straight for the counter.

Behind the counter, the bartender was wiping a glass, too lazy to even lift his eyelids.

“New stock in?” Schiller lowered his voice, imitating a specific tone.

“No.” The bartender didn’t look up.

“Give me some old stock then.”
“No.”
Schiller leaned forward slightly, as if whispering: “Give me a dead rat.”
The bartender’s wiping motion finally paused for a moment.

He raised his eyes, sharply scanning the shadow under Schiller’s hood. With a small, almost imperceptible motion, he tilted his head towards a corner filled with barrels behind him.

Schiller nonchalantly walked over, and a stone staircase entrance, faintly illuminated by an oil lamp, came into view.

A bizarre underground world—the “Lawless Land”—unfolded before Schiller’s eyes.

‘I’d better get this over with quickly.’ Even he felt a sense of fear towards this grotesque world.

The underground black market in Cernost was rumored to sell even world-destroying weapons—not to mention the auctions held in the open.

Once someone fell in there, the consequences would be unimaginable.

Faint firelight danced on the damp rock walls, stretching the shadows of passersby long.

He had two objectives for this trip.

‘First, to arrange for people to kidnap me and the young lady.’
This was crucial, the most critical part of his plan.

‘Second, as an insurance measure, the Blood of the Succubus.’
This was optional, but it could be used to subdue the young lady in a critical moment.

After quickly completing the first objective, he followed the route in his memory, winding through the maze-like alleys, his sharp gaze searching for the mark—
The moon in the sewer, that was the pattern.

Lifting the leather curtain, behind the counter, a person also cloaked in shadows greeted him.

“Oh, welcome, welcome, esteemed guest!” A deliberately disguised neutral voice sounded. “What are you looking for?”
In fact, this shop, known as the “Dark Moon,” sold everything.

In the game, this shop provided countless items and intelligence to the protagonist’s enemies.

But the prerequisite was having money.

And Schiller really did have money. In fact, he had nothing but money at this moment.

“Boss, the succubus…” Schiller was slightly stunned for a moment upon seeing the black-robed person, but quickly regained his composure.

“Blood of the Succubus.” Schiller was concise.

“Oh~ young people these days… can’t be satisfied with the ordinary anymore, huh? Well, I get it, seeking excitement…”
“Yeah, the ordinary can’t satisfy me anymore. I want three bottles.”
Schiller interrupted the still-fantasizing boss, holding up three fingers.

“Three, three bottles…” The boss seemed to shrink back as if scared. “Three bottles! Do you know that the effect of three bottles can even take down a monster!”
The boss’s exaggerated voice startled Schiller. He could almost see the boss’s surprise.

After all, he was dealing with that Sheryl. Who knew if the young lady had any resistance to drugs? A strong dose wasn’t excessive.

Besides, aphrodisiacs only made people horny and lose their combat ability; it wasn’t like they’d be trapped in a room they couldn’t leave without getting frisky.

“You don’t have it? Then I’ll go to another shop.”
In the black market, the one thing that was never lacking was goods.

If you don’t sell, there are plenty of others who will!

“Hey! Don’t, I don’t have Blood of the Succubus, but I have something even stronger.” The boss mysteriously leaned close to Schiller’s ear. “This is a hot item.”
‘Did you just say, stronger?’ He suddenly wanted to know just how strong it could be.

“But, I don’t sell this item alone.” She spoke mysteriously.

“I’m leaving!” Schiller turned to leave, but she held onto his cloak tightly.

“Don’t, don’t go, I haven’t had a single sale in ten days! I just lost a lot of money, you, you have to buy something today!” The boss shamelessly started pestering him.

‘The reason you have no sales is definitely your selling method!’

“Don’t be in such a hurry, it’s not too late to decide after listening!”
Schiller crossed his arms, feigning a listening posture.

“I have new information about the young lady of the Hohenzollern family.”
“!”
The mention of Sheryl’s name here successfully piqued Schiller’s interest.

“Continue.”
“Oh, looks like you’re interested. But, the price of the information…” The sound of rubbing fingers was a clear hint.

Schiller unhesitatingly pulled a heavy pouch from his cloak’s inner pocket. With a flick of his wrist, countless gold coins clattered onto the counter.

Schiller threw the money around with an unapologetic air.

“Golden Roses!” The shopkeeper let out a suppressed gasp.

“Ahem… speaking of Duke Hohenzollern, he’s one of the top nobles in the empire… but,” he deliberately dragged out his tone, creating the mystique essential for an informant, “that young lady, she’s a bit of a ‘problem’.”
“Problem?” Schiller played along, his voice still steady.

The shopkeeper nodded with an air of importance, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a whisper: “Sheryl Hohenzollern, there are rumors outside… that she’s the Duke’s illegitimate daughter. And, even though she’s long past the age of the imperial coming-of-age ceremony, this young lady seems completely unfamiliar with noble etiquette and rules.”
Indeed, Schiller had a deep understanding of the latter part, but the information about her being an illegitimate daughter was completely new.

The shopkeeper continued to whisper mysteriously: “I heard, if she can’t perform up to the standards of a duke’s daughter at that important Consecration Ceremony, I’m afraid she’ll…”
He made a meaningful gesture. “That’s why they invited Young Master Schiller to teach her.”
Hearing his own name, Schiller’s heart stirred. He casually replied, “Schiller? That lecherous Viscount Schiller? Can he do it?”
The shopkeeper made a series of “aiya aiya” sounds, then pulled closer again, almost nibbling Schiller’s ear: “Guest, don’t underestimate this lecherous viscount. The key is his etiquette and cultivation, which are top-notch in the imperial noble circle. And his personal maid, Celia, she’s no small fry. She used to serve a major figure in the royal family, but it seems she offended a princess and was expelled from the court, eventually being ‘picked up’ by Young Master Schiller.”
The pupils under Schiller’s hood contracted sharply! Celia was a court maid? This crucial piece of memory, as if forcibly erased, was completely absent from the original owner’s fragmented mind. A chill quietly crept up his spine.