Chapter 118: Undercurrents Part 1

At night, when the curfew began, even the Lower District of Vauban City was left with only the footsteps of patrolling guards and the ‘crackle’ of those tallow torches.

The noisy crowds had long since dispersed, and those shops had long since closed.

After the lights faded, those colorful signs lost their luster in the darkness, just like Vauban City after it had fallen asleep.

However, some places had just come to life.

Inside the Lower District of Vauban City, in a tavern near the drainage canal, the lights were dim, but the basement was crowded with people.

Using the cover of the shadows, Dean quickly approached this place.

Clearly, this was a gathering place for those who walked in the shadows, commonly known as the Black Market.

Thud, thud…

Dean stood in the shadows looking at the door in front of him.

“Who is it!”

A hoarse voice sounded from behind the door, and at the same time, Dean sensed at least three gazes landing on him—hidden sentries, the power guarding the Black Market, were essential.

“The crisp sound of Gold Pultons, Silver Horns, and Copper Coins!”

As he spoke, Dean slid the Copper Coins in his hand through the crack of the underground door.

Creak…

With a simple secret signal, after three Copper Coins, the door in front opened. Dean, wearing a cloak, entered here. Without stopping on the ground floor, Dean walked familiarly toward the basement—the layout of every Black Market was about the same; having experienced dozens of Black Markets, Dean was just like any regular customer.

Moreover, not long ago, he had been here once.

Seeing Dean’s appearance, the tavern owner who opened the door made a gesture to the outside, then returned to the tavern and closed the door again.

Undoubtedly, aside from his identity as a tavern owner, his vigilance was more like that of a guard.

And in fact, that was the case.

Basically, every Black Market had such a guard: an identity on the surface, and an identity in the shadows.

Creak, creak…

The slightly old stairs made such sounds, as if they were knocks, causing the people below who could not see the light to start scanning the entrance with their eyes.

However, when they saw Dean walk in, they all lost interest.

These people walking in the shadows definitely had sharp eyes; they could tell who was a fat sheep and who was an expert.

Undoubtedly, on Dean they saw the aura of a kindred spirit.

Even, a more dangerous one.

That unmasked coldness made these people understand that this was absolutely not a guy to be trifled with.

So, naturally, they continued doing whatever they were doing.

Exchanging news, selling items, posting tasks…

All were performed and completed one by one in a space with fewer than ten tables.

Dean glanced over the ten tables; he did not stop his footsteps but walked toward the innermost position—here there was a counter with some wine barrels placed on it; besides these wine barrels, there were some birdcages.

Some had pigeons, others had different birds.

For example: Falcons.

“Guest, what do you need?”

The person in charge of the counter greeted the approaching Dean very enthusiastically, just like a waiter in a daytime restaurant, though it would have been even better if he could put down the short knife in his hand.

Dean completely ignored the other party; he directly took out a letter written in code and sealed with wax, placing it into the falcon’s cage.

“Horn Town, Long Lang? Alright, that is a cunning, stingy guy!”

Seeing the name on the envelope, the attendant casually put down the short knife in his hand; undoubtedly, Dean could now be thoroughly categorized as a non-dangerous person.

After all, Long Lang himself was a Black Market merchant with quite a reputation.

A guy associated with someone like that could naturally be counted as one of their own.

Ding, ding, ding!

Three crisp sounds rang out, and three Gold Pultons flashing with golden light appeared on the table.

“Two days! Only two days, I guarantee that Long Lang fellow will receive your letter, honored guest!” Seeing the Gold Pultons, the attendant’s tone immediately changed; not only did he give a guarantee, but he also took out a somewhat worn piece of parchment and handed it to Dean: “Guest, I think you need a price list—of course, we don’t charge handling fees here!”

The attendant joked.

Clearly, Long Lang’s way of gathering wealth was talked about with relish by these Black Market merchants, but they could not learn it; not because they didn’t want to, but because they couldn’t get the ‘exclusive goods’ that Long Lang could get.

Dean was well aware of this.

Therefore, for this attendant’s recommendation, Dean had no desire to buy anything; moreover, he had just looked through this item list not long ago—Dean only needed to scan the parchment once to confirm that the other party had no new goods.

Consequently, Dean intended to leave.

After all, his purpose for coming here was already accomplished.

As for Dean’s purpose in coming here?

Naturally, it was to deliver a letter.

His ‘Knight’s Baptism’ needed the help of that Black Market merchant to collect some medicinal herbs.

Similarly, that ‘smuggling route’ also required cooperation with the other party.

Although it was not yet the agreed time between the two parties, Dean understood that if there was money to be made, Long Lang would absolutely not mind.

As for other channels for sending letters?

Relying on bards and caravans?

Friend, believe me, those channels would absolutely not be safer or faster than here; of course, if you had the scout guard squad of Marquis Vauban escorting you personally, that would be a different story.

In fact, communication between Black Markets was the fastest and safest in the Four Northern Counties, and even in the entire Emerald Kingdom—those special Falcons raised by the Black Market could allow you to receive news from the southernmost part of the Emerald Kingdom at the northernmost part in just one week; if Warhorses were used, it would take over fifty days.

Of course, this naturally had prerequisites.

First, you needed to pay a hefty fee.

Second, your recipient had to be familiar with the Black Market.

At the very least, he needed to know some people who walked in the shadows.

Otherwise… official and civilian formal channels would be your choice.

“Guest, wait a moment… perhaps you need some special information?”

Seeing Dean stand up, the attendant said repeatedly—undoubtedly, the Gold Pultons Dean threw out earlier played a key role at this moment.

There was no participant in any Black Market who did not want to earn more Gold Pultons.

Therefore, sometimes, some small tricks were unavoidable.

And knowing that this might be a trick played by the other party, Dean naturally would not be fooled, just like those restaurants that often said to some guests to sell out the day’s food, ‘Look, I have a large portion here, enough food for two, and you only need to pay the price of one and a half people to take it away.’

“Guest, it is news about Marquis Vauban’s auction!”

Seeing Dean turn around without hesitation, the attendant gritted his teeth and whispered some key words.

“Marquis Vauban’s auction?”

Dean stopped his footsteps and turned to look at the other party.

“Of course!”

Seeing Dean stop his footsteps, the attendant laughed—clearly, he saw the Gold Pultons beckoning to him.

“It better not be boring news… otherwise, you will regret what you have done!”

Dean, who knew the rules well, made no extra movements and directly placed a Gold Pulton on the table.

“Absolutely not—you will think it is worth more than the price… Someone has targeted Marquis Vauban’s private auction; they are organizing manpower and have offered quite a generous reward… I think you can join them, Guest, since you look very strong!” The attendant flattered Dean, then took out a slightly neater piece of parchment, casually wrote an address, and handed it to Dean, saying, “If you are interested, please go here!”

“The other party’s identity?”

Dean did not take the parchment with the address written on it immediately; instead, he placed another Gold Pulton on the table.

“I… I cannot be sure…”

The attendant spoke hesitantly, but his gaze toward the Gold Pulton clearly told Dean what he was thinking.

Another Gold Pulton appeared on the table.

“It is the Thieves Guild of Vauban City, and some Mercenaries from other counties; it seems there is something incredible at Marquis Vauban’s auction this time…”

As he spoke, the attendant reached his hand toward the two Gold Pultons.

However, his hand was pressed down by Dean at the first moment.

After trying twice without breaking free, the attendant looked at Dean with an innocent face.

“More specific!”

After Dean used a disguise, his gloomy voice showed his anger at being toyed with—clearly, the Thieves Guild would absolutely participate in such a thing.

In fact, it would be abnormal if the Thieves Guild did not appear.

As for those Mercenaries?

For Gold Pultons, they clearly disregarded life and death.

Therefore, the information given in the latter words was obviously nonsense.

And Dean would absolutely not let anyone fool him like this.

“And… and… the Brotherhood seems to be involved in this as well—I am not too sure about this news!”

The attendant added, and then, the moment Dean released his hand, he scooped the two Gold Pultons on the table into his pocket.

“Brotherhood…”

Dean narrowed his eyes in deep thought.

He was all too familiar with this organization—although it had the seemingly pleasant name of ‘Brotherhood’, it was completely an Assassin and killer organization.

Within the Emerald Kingdom, over seventy percent of assassinations were related to this organization.

Even in Goth and City, their presence could be seen.

As long as their listed price was paid, they would take on even the assassination task of a country’s King—for example: the King of City was listed at ten million Gold Pultons.

Although it seemed like an astronomical price, the fact that the ‘Brotherhood’ dared to list it showed their attitude.

And as far as Dean knew, after the King of City learned this news, he had sent people to encircle and suppress the ‘Brotherhood’ more than once; however, all returned without success.

As for why Dean knew this so clearly?

Because, in the previous life, the place where the Old Thief trained him was a branch of the ‘Brotherhood’.