Chapter 225 - Meeting the Locals (Patreon)

Viers thought to snatch the bottle and peace out because he wasn't in the mood to waste time in the drama but he stopped himself after seeing the interlocutor’s face.

Sankar!

Viers recognized the Underbelly’s big dog from Ditan’s memories. Viers did not sense the Level 4 because he was hiding his aura. The man was stronger than him.

Viers couldn't sense Sankar’s cultivation let alone the seller, but he eagerly sold the bath oil to the one that offered double the price.

Sankar paid the amount and left without giving Viers a glance. It must be something natural to him.

“Well, sorry about that, man,” the seller said with a shrug. “Business is business.”

Viers felt sour but that was just life.

So this time you threw me a lemon so sour that I cannot even make it into lemonade, eh, life? Just watch. The more lemons you throw at me, the firmer my resolve to be the Lemon King.

“Yeah. Business is business.”

Since there was nothing else, Viers no longer wasted his time in this stall.

But not before subtly giving the seller a soul curse. He'd be having horrific nightmares for the next three months to come.

Business is business and grudge is grudge.

As for Sankar, Viers didn't do anything to him, much to his regret. Not that he didn't want to but he wasn't confident the Level 4 would not realize.

One of the reasons xianxia MCs were often in a perpetual state of conflict with someone stronger than them was because they were too proud. Too addicted to slapping faces. Too motivated to be on the right side.

They couldn't swallow bitterness like an adult. Some were like children, they would let their fists do the talking at the slightest hint of an insult. Some were more mature, but once the antagonists insults their parents, women, teachers, sects, and the like, they take it as their divine duty to fight the insulter, even if the antagonists could kill them with a flick. Of course, the MCs would survive. By their ingenuity or plot armor, either way the MC always survived.

If Viers was in their shoes, he would let the insult be and enact revenge once he was stronger than them. Weren't xianxia MCs supposed to grow at a much faster rate than others? Wasn't cultivators' lives often counted in centuries or millennia? What was a decade or two compared to that?

Making enemies stronger than oneself was not wise.

In the end, it was just an item. Viers weighed it as something not worth antagonizing a Level 4 for.

He simply recorded this happening in his metal Book of Grudges.

Once he was strong enough, he would clean the Book of every single grudge. After all, he would need something to do once he hit max level, right?

Well, that’s that. There are other flea markets in the Underbelly. I might have more luck in other places.

Viers went to other floors, hoping his bad luck was out of energy and he would find what he sought this time.

***

Viers was now on the 51st floor. The third and last flea market that he had access to. Walking around with his Euryale Sight active.

Tsk. I just got two weak ones. A magical four-leaf clover and a bronze horseshoe. So outdated… they only got weak luck blessings so they are nowhere near enough. The oil has a stronger effect than these two. Wait? Aren't those Ramujun metal ore? I should get some for Boram. Let's see… which are the high-purity ones?

Although Viers didn't get many lucky items, he bought a lot of other things. He kept a sizable chunk of wealth for buying super expensive lucky items from the official stores if he didn't find anything good. He would not leave this place without something to offset his bad luck.

“Good eye, laddie,” someone spoke with a deep voice.

“Pardon?” Viers said to the dwarf with a thick red beard and hair.

“Har har har! You picked the best ores from the stock. The Ramujun are tricky. Took years to differentiate them in my case. Are you a fellow metal worker, laddie?”

The stout dwarf was a Level 4 but he gave the opposite impression from Sankar. Not all Pathseekers were jerks to those with a lower cultivation, so it seemed. Not that Viers wasn't wary of the stronger guy but the dwarf seemed amiable.

“No, I’m not,” Viers removed his shades. “Just beginner's luck, I suppose. Were you looking to buy some? Mister…”

“Tomthur, but you can call me Tom. And I'm just looking around.”

Viers shook his hand because the dwarf offered. It was a really strong grip.

“Once or twice a year, rare metals pop up in the market. Making things with rare materials is what lit up my blacksmith soul, you know? I’ve the need to work on something unusual but it seems there’s not any today.”

“Right,” Viers nodded. The dwarf took up a canteen and tried to chug but it was empty.

“Bah, out of booze. Bye now, laddie. A dwarf gotta have his liquor. Visit my shop upstairs if you want. I welcome a lad who knows his metal.”

Viers watched as Tomthur went to the elevator and it rose up shortly. He didn't swallow the beginner's luck lie.

…Well, at least that didn't end in a disaster. Aaand no lucky item again. Time to change my approach.

***

“So, Mister V, what can I do for you?”

A man sat behind a big desk talking to Viers. From his clothes and mannerism, the man meant business.

“For someone that is known as Skinny Dog, you sure don't look like one. Why do they call you Skinny Dog?”

“You’re willing to pay for that? No? Then don't ask useless things to an information broker, Mister V. Time is money so let’s get to it.”

Viers used Ditan’s memory to make contact with an info broker. He made his living by selling and buying information.

“All right. I want information on where I can buy or obtain luck-raising items. The budget is… around this number.”

“Very well. Wait while I search. Is there anything else?” Skinny Dog asked.

“Well, what’s interesting lately?” Viers asked back.

Skinny Dog gave Viers a magical item that looked like an electronic tablet, complete with a touch screen function.

Now that's interesting.

It contained a list of the latest news. Viers picked a few that interested him. There was one about the city guard station that he robbed and then burned too. No leads on him, it seemed. One of them was about a battle between a group of Silver Legion and a group of assassins. The cultists were trying to kill a legionnaire. Considering the assassins were still skulking about, it was safe to assume the target was still alive and in Valkut city.

While Viers was reading the news, Skinny Dog opened his eyes after a brief seesaw of meditation. Viers suspected he was searching his memory or communicating with someone else.

“I have two barters, two shops, and one unusual request for you.”

“Lay it out then,” Viers said.

***

Viers felt that the bad luck spirit wanted to prevent him from getting luck-raising items using all of its might.

In one barter, the client wanted to barter for the lucky item. It was one of the items that Viers plundered from the police station… which he’d sold earlier.

Tsk. No dice there.

The other barter also wasn't happening. The guy was found dead. All his belongings were gone.

What the fuck is this? Murder mystery flick?

Viers felt pressured by the luck-induced disaster. He was determined to remedy it whatever the cost.

Therefore, at the last two stores, he used up most of his wealth to buy two items: a toothbrush and a mummy finger.

The finger was a regular item that gave off a lucky aura to the possessor while the toothbrush was a man-made magical item. Can be used twice a day. When brushing one's teeth with it, it would be as if cleaning the bad luck clinging to said person. In other words, rather than raising Viers’ luck, the toothbrush removed Viers’ malignant bad luck.

Not permanently or completely because Golden Luck Toothbrush is just a Level 3 item but it will help.

Viers brushed his teeth with it immediately.

With renewed oral and luck hygiene, Viers went to the last place Skinny Dog told him, on the 38th floor, residential area.

The details about the request were sparse, just the necessary requirements and the rewards. It seemed to be a competition of some sort. The participant must be below a certain age, skilled with a sword, and other things. Viers met the qualification and one of the rewards was a luck-raising item like the mummy finger so he went there.

When he arrived, there were about fifty other people, just like him. All were at Level 2 or 3.

“Welcome, gents,” a Level 4 man came out from the house. “I’m Roche Dobson, the architect of this event. We of the House Dobson seek a man possessing certain qualities. That is why you’re all here. If you manage to pass our screening and remain until the very end, the rewards will be yours. Then without further ado…”

The participants lined up on the congested street as Roche measured each of them using some kind of magical item.

Twelve people passed, including Viers, and were invited to the mansion. The voice of dissent was quickly silenced by the Level 4’s might. There was no fee involved to be here so they were just told to be away.

The next test was to fight a phantom of a Dobson ancestor using nothing but pure sword skills. The Dobson family was indeed known for their swordsmanship around Valkut.

Only two people passed.

“The last challenge. Mister V and Mister R. Please fight with each other. Without Artes or gimmicks, let the better swordsman win.”

Viers met Mister R in an arena.

“Wow, even our false names are similar, huh?” Viers said to the guy that also wore a cloak to hide his identity. Viers observed that their age was about the same.

“No hard feelings,” R said, swinging the blunt practice sword.

“Indeed,” Viers made a stance.

“Ready…” Roche was the referee. “Begin!”

R was a Level 3 and while he had higher cultivation than Viers, the match was pure swordsmanship so Viers thought he would not lose.

Four moves in, R’s strike penetrated Viers’ defenses.

“Hit! One point for R!”

The match was best out of three or Viers would have lost.

This guy, what skill! Viers was awed. He didn't think R was such a swordsman. He was better than Viers in every way.

For the next match, Viers no longer held back. He fought as if facing a great enemy.

He fared better but R proved he was still a cut above. Viers managed to land a hit when he used the Sea Universe first style that he got from the Book World.

“Hit! One point for V!”

“Wow!” R was amazed. “It seems we have other similarities.”

“What?”

In the third round, R’s sword style changed. Viers was surprised. R’s technique had similarities to Viers’ Sea Universe style! Viers tried to fight back. After a furious back and forth, the blunt sword of R struck him square in the forehead.

“Hit! One point for R!”

I… lost, Viers sighed with his butt on the floor.

“You're really strong,” R extended his hand while smiling “Let’s do this again sometime.”

As the defeated, Viers left the mansion but he stayed on the premises.

To rob R.

But R is something else. His sword arm was the best I’ve ever seen for someone around my age, even better than Troy’s. But I’m sorry man. The lucky butterfly will be mine.

Like a detective on a stake-out, Viers camped for hours.

Rggh… When is he coming out?

Then there was an explosion in the mansion. Viers saw R run away from the blasted wall as if his life was counting on it. The luck-raising item that was a butterfly encased in a resin was in his hand.

“Dearest husband! Please don't run away!”

A truly fat and ugly girl wailed from the wall opening. She bit the hem of her sleeve as if she was regretting something very deeply.

“Don't run away, son-in-law,” Roche pursued. “You’ve accepted the dowry!”

“Hieeekh!! I’m truly sorry but this is more than I bargained for!!” R scurried about like a mouse hunted by a cat.

Well, I certainly didn't expect this.

Nevertheless, Viers pursued.

It was a pretty epic chase, movie-worthy. In the end, the Level 3 high or peak managed to run to the surface. Roche was forced to give up after the Level 4 guards stopped his rampage.

It was hard for Viers to keep up but he was invisible the whole time thanks to the Fade in Shadow Arte. He followed R still, waiting for the moment to strike.

“Phew,” R wiped the sweat from his brows. “My, apologies Lady Dobson, but I already have a person to whom I have dedicated my heart to.”

It was night, so there was a lot of darkness. Perfect for Viers. R took a carriage and went to the upper-class place in Valkut. The guards recognized his face, calling him young master Russ Sullivan. It seemed he was of high birth.

Russ stopped near a big mansion. He didn't enter from the front gate but sneaked in from the side.

He longingly looked up at the lit-up second-floor window, picked up a few pebbles, and threw it at the window.

A silhouette of a lady darkened the window.

“Oh, most fair Lady Pinaca. The moon’s beauty pales in comparison to your visage. Two days since I last saw your face and my heart ached most painfully,” Russ was on his knees, like Romeo wooing Juliet. ”Please, grace this pitiful man with your presence.”

“Ufufu, Milord Russ,” the woman opened the window. “Please stop with the flattery. It will make me blush.”

What the fu-

“Wha-?” Farley mirrored Viers’ surprise.

“Eh?” Clarissa looked at Paina.

Paina couldn't say anything. Her mind was no less confused as she saw a woman with her own face through Viers’ eyes.