Chapter 683: Fair enough

Ethan’s mental strength was leagues above that old man’s—like, not even in the same ballpark.

As for how to rate him... let’s just say he was closer to Nightbane than anyone else.

Naturally, the old man couldn’t see through Ethan’s disguise. To him, the two standing in front of him were just your average Awakeners—Ricky, a B-rank, and Ethan, disguised as "Dane," an S-rank.

"Alright, go on in," the old man said, slapping the table. A loud rumble echoed behind him as a shelf flipped around, revealing a pitch-black passageway.

A long staircase stretched downward into the darkness, the bottom nowhere in sight.

"Mm." Ethan gave a small nod and walked straight in.

Ricky followed close behind, eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of nervousness. The Black Market had always been this mysterious, almost mythical place to him.

"Man, tagging along with Captain really opens your eyes..." Ricky thought to himself.

Of course, he had no idea—this was just the beginning of the eye-opening stuff.

The two of them descended the stairs, walking through the dark corridor. Their footsteps echoed through the empty space.

Ethan could sense a lot of human presence below, along with waves of mental energy rippling through the tunnel.

Clearly, there were people hidden in the shadows, quietly watching them.

"Pretty cautious setup..." Ethan muttered inwardly.

Before long, they reached the bottom of the stairs. A brightly lit hall opened up in front of them, bustling with movement and chatter.

"You’re the one looking to buy a Lightsaber?" a young woman asked. She’d clearly been waiting for a while.

Ethan gave her a quick once-over. Though she was technically a "service rep," her expression was cold, her eyes full of disdain. Working at the Black Market was like being the front desk at a five-star hotel—she’d seen her fair share of rich and powerful types. Mercenaries like them? Not even worth her time.

"Yeah," Ethan replied simply.

"Follow me," she said flatly, turning on her heel and walking off without another word.

Ethan and Ricky followed her.

"Captain, she totally looks down on us," Ricky whispered, frowning. He’d grown up doing odd jobs and had a knack for reading people.

"Let her," Ethan said, completely unfazed.

"Oh..." Ricky glanced at his back, surprised. Captain didn’t even flinch. No anger, no edge—none of that blood-soaked mercenary vibe. He was... chill. Almost zen.

"Don’t worry, Captain. Once I make it into the Inner City, they’ll be begging to kiss my boots!" Ricky muttered with conviction.

Ethan didn’t respond. He just kept walking behind the girl, through the hall, down a twisting corridor, until they reached a small private room.

The room was cramped and dimly lit, with a metal barrier cutting it in half. A small window sat at the top—like a bank teller’s window.

The Black Market actually had a pretty "customer-friendly" setup. High-value trades were done in private rooms like this. After all, muggings and murders weren’t exactly rare around here. If you had something valuable, you kept it hidden. Privacy was everything.

Ricky peeked through the window but saw nothing—just an empty space behind the counter.

"There’s no one here? How are we supposed to buy anything?"

"If you wanna buy something, just wait. What’s with all the whining?" the girl said without even turning around, then walked out and shut the door behind her.

"Hey!" Ricky called after her, clearly pissed. He looked around and saw it was just him and Ethan now. No need to hold back.

"Pfft! Just a damn clerk, acting all high and mighty? Wait till I make it big—I’ll buy this whole damn Black Market and fire your ass!"

He kept grumbling under his breath, venting his frustration the only way he knew how.

Time ticked by. Half an hour passed before the door behind the counter finally creaked open.

A middle-aged man stepped in, glanced up at Ethan, and asked, "You’re here for a Lightsaber?"

"Yeah," Ethan replied.

The man nodded. "You’re in luck. Someone actually put one up for consignment recently. But the price’s a bit steep."

"That’s fine. How much?" Ethan didn’t even blink.

The man raised an eyebrow, surprised at how casual he was. "One SS-grade crystal core... or ten million Credits."

"Holy crap!" Ricky blurted out, eyes wide in shock. He knew Lightsabers were expensive, but this? A whole ten million? That kind of money could buy enough Compressed Protein to feed someone for a lifetime!

Ethan paused, thinking it over. He understood the value of a Lightsaber in human civilization, but still—this price was definitely inflated.

After all, a Lightsaber was powered by an embedded S-grade crystal core. Add in the materials and craftsmanship, and at most, it should be worth an S+ core. Not SS.

The middle-aged man leaned forward, explaining, "Weapons at this level are made for top-tier combatants. With one of these, you could take down an SS-class Zombie King. So yeah, it’s worth it. But if you can’t afford it, no shame in walking away."

Ethan, of course, knew exactly how powerful and practical a Lightsaber was. It could slice through the Dreadpaw like it was made of paper. That’s why he wanted to equip his crew with them in the first place.

If it didn’t pack that kind of punch, it wouldn’t even be worth more than a zombie’s claws and teeth.

"Ahem!" Ricky gave a little cough, trying to break the awkward silence. Seeing Ethan quiet, he assumed the guy didn’t have the cash and quickly tried to smooth things over.

"Captain, I mean, it’s just ten million, right? We could always go grab the money and come back later, yeah?"

"No need," Ethan said calmly. Money wasn’t the issue—he had something else in mind. "Besides the Lightsaber, do you guys have any other tech weapons? Or maybe some high-grade serums or enhancers? I’m looking to stock up."

"Oh?" The man’s eyes narrowed slightly, suspicion creeping into his voice as he gave Ethan another once-over. He clearly wasn’t convinced Ethan could afford even one Lightsaber, let alone a shopping spree.

"Look, around here, if you’ve got the cash, you can buy just about anything. But you’ll need to prove you’ve got the means first."

"Fair enough." Ethan got the message. With a flick of his wrist, he opened his hand—and in an instant, a dazzling burst of light filled the room.

A rainbow of colors shimmered in his palm, each crystal core glowing with pure, concentrated energy. The light danced across the walls, casting surreal reflections like something out of a dream.

Every single one of them was SS-grade.

"Wha—" The man shot up from behind the counter like he’d been electrocuted, eyes locked on Ethan’s hand like he was seeing a ghost. His face twisted in disbelief.

Even Ricky was frozen in place.

The glow from the crystal cores lit up his stunned expression. To him, these things were like mythical treasures—priceless, unattainable. It was like a broke kid who’d spent his life doing odd jobs suddenly found himself staring at a mountain of cash.

His breath caught in his throat. His knees buckled. He nearly collapsed on the spot.

"Th-this many...?"

The cramped little room fell into stunned silence.

Gulp.

The man swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. A flicker of greed flashed in his eyes—but when he looked up at Ethan again, it vanished, replaced by a wide, eager smile.

"A distinguished guest! Of course, of course—right this way, sir! We’ve got a whole selection of consigned weapons. Let me give you the full tour, personally."

"Sounds good," Ethan said, clearly pleased.

Of course, what they didn’t know was... every single one of those crystal cores was a product of Ethan’s mental projection. Not just SS-grade—if he wanted, he could conjure up an SSS-grade core from a Voidborn Undying and make it look real enough to fool anyone.

...