Slave Trading Market

After bidding farewell to Chiard, Roland promptly left the Apothecary Guild.

When he emerged, he found that the real estate agent Jonathan had somehow appeared beside Old Nob and was eagerly chatting with him.

The moment Jonathan spotted Roland, his eyes lit up—especially when he saw the magic materials Roland was carrying. He immediately doffed his hat and bowed with utmost respect.

As a native of Highland City, Jonathan knew full well the weight of a mage, but he understood even better the status of an apothecary. This profession, so tightly bound to gold coins, could drive countless people wild with desire.

And Roland, at present, clearly had no idea what it truly meant to be an apothecary.

"Esteemed Lord Roland, I had no idea you were also a noble apothecary. To serve you is the greatest honor of my humble life."

Roland showed no reaction to Jonathan's flattery, merely waiting silently to hear why he had come.

Seeing that Roland didn't respond, Jonathan showed no embarrassment and pressed on: "Esteemed Lord Roland, though I don't know what potions you can brew, I can find you a very sincere buyer. I'm certain the price he offers will be higher than the kingdom's purchasing rate."

"Thank you, but I don't need that for now." Roland instinctively felt wary of such an unsolicited offer and turned it down flat.

Roland's answer clearly made Jonathan anxious. He knew very well that compared to the commission from a potion deal, a property transaction was utterly insignificant.

Moreover, introducing a newly arrived apothecary to the influential figure behind him would surely bring even greater rewards.

So he immediately pulled a certificate from his pocket and presented it to Roland with both hands.

This all-too-familiar scene left Roland somewhat dumbfounded.

Isn't that a Real Estate Agent certificate? What's he pulling it out for?

But just as Roland was about to refuse, he caught a glimpse of the certificate Jonathan held out—it read "Potion Broker."

"..."

Seeing those words, a dark line seemed to flash across Roland's forehead. He felt like he'd been duped.

A Real Estate Agent being officially certified—that, Roland could accept. But a Potion Broker? What the hell was that?

The kingdom was desperate to collect more potions. Even if this was the Oroko Family's territory, they'd never issue a certificate to a middleman.

If the house he was renting hadn't checked out, he'd have made Jonathan taste the wrath of a Mage Lord.

Seeing Roland's expression darken, Jonathan looked panicked. He seemed to realize that his rash, desperate move had been too reckless and had displeased Roland.

"Jonathan, what other certificates do you have? Let me see them all." Roland said darkly.

"Esteemed Lord Roland, that's all..."

"Oh?" Roland's face hardened. Mana rippled around him as an intimidating aura slowly rose.

"I just remembered—a friend left a few with me for safekeeping." Jonathan broke out in a cold sweat and hastily pulled several more certificates from his pocket.

Equipment Broker

Ore Broker

Slave Broker

Magic Plant Broker

Sea Vessel Broker

Roland stared at the handful of certificates, speechless.

Borrowing a phrase from a famous figure in his past life: "You're a goddamn genius, aren't you?"

The strange look on Roland's face made Jonathan somewhat embarrassed, but what truly disheartened him was that, with his identity exposed, he seemed to have lost any chance of building a connection with an apothecary.

Yet Roland's next words instantly filled him with surprise and delight.

Roland casually picked up the Slave Broker certificate and asked, "You know something about the slave trade?"

"I do, I do." Jonathan nodded eagerly.

"It's not from some 'official training' again, is it?"

Jonathan grew even more embarrassed, but quickly explained: "No, no, Esteemed Lord Roland. I grew up in Highland City and know a thing or two about every trade here."

"While I may not be able to help you obtain any confidential information, I'm quite familiar with the basics."

Roland gave a slight nod and then said, "Can you take me to see the slave trading area in Highland City?"

"But I may not buy any slaves, so you might not earn a commission."

"Gladly, gladly! To serve you, even without any reward, is the honor of my humble life." Jonathan replied cheerfully, without the slightest reluctance.

To make the acquaintance of an apothecary was itself an enormous asset.

"Lead the way."

"As you command. Please follow me."

Under Jonathan's guidance, the three of them first arrived at a carriage shop at the end of Farul Street.

Since they had to cross from the west side of the city to the east, the distance was considerable, so a horse-drawn carriage was necessary.

In truth, Roland's current itinerary was entirely outside the Chip's daily schedule.

Yet Nuwa made no attempt to stop him, because she too understood that whether it was brewing potions or strengthening his power, it was all in preparation for the territory expansion three months from now.

And slaves were likewise an indispensable part of opening up new territory.

Thus, in Nuwa's calculations, anything that could aid in establishing territory three months from now was not something she would obstruct.

On the south side of Highland City's port, Bell Street housed the Terra Kingdom's infamous Slave Trading Market. Its scale was immense, its pitch-black canopy standing like a dark castle.

The street was packed with people, noise rising in an unending din. Merchants from all over the kingdom wove through the crowd, faces flushed red as they haggled fiercely with slave masters.

Every year, a staggering number of slaves were traded here, while countless more poured in like a relentless tide. The enormous profits generated were so vast that even the Oroko Family, a hereditary count's house, could not claim them all.

But this had nothing to do with Roland. Led by Jonathan, when he stepped into the Slave Trading Market, though he had braced himself, a flicker of shock still crossed his face.

Compared to Farul Street, Bell Street was far wider, stretching endlessly into the distance. Countless sheds and fences divided the area into distinct sections.

Here, not only could one see large numbers of human slaves treated as commodities, but also towering orcs of varied shapes, still carrying a wild, untamed aura.

Beyond that, dwarves, centaurs, gnomes, goblins, and over a dozen other races were openly displayed on both sides of the street, waiting to be chosen.

Rumor had it that within Highland City's slave market, there were even slaves from powerful races like elves, sirens, and behemoths.

Taking in the raw, sinful, filthy scene around him, Roland couldn't help but marvel at this world's twisted civilization.

Not only between humans and other races, but even within humanity itself, there was such cold indifference.

It had pushed war and slaughter to their absolute extreme.

Yet for Roland, he rather liked this world where hierarchy was drawn to its sharpest edge.

Because it meant he could possess things utterly impossible in his past life.

For instance, a few graceful, golden-haired, blue-eyed young maids...

Roland secretly wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth, his gaze toward the slaves in the pens on either side growing a touch more fervent.

But to his disappointment, the pens and sheds on both sides held no young maidens among the slaves—hardly any female slaves at all.

"Tch, that's it?" Roland silently sneered in his heart.

Then, led by Jonathan, Roland arrived before a tall, spacious building. Above its entrance hung four large characters: Shadow Merchant Guild.

This place was clearly different from the chaotic, noisy street outside. Elegant patterns were carved into the surrounding walls, golden lines gleaming brilliantly in the sunlight.

A squad of grim-eyed, fierce-faced warriors, exuding menace, stood guard at the entrance, their gazes sweeping over passersby.

But they weren't without discernment. Spotting Roland behind Jonathan, their eyes lit up. One middle-aged man, clearly a cut above the rest in strength, immediately plastered a ferocious grin onto his face.

"Esteemed mage, what service may we offer you?"

Roland heard this but didn't answer, instead turning his gaze to Jonathan.

Seeing this, Jonathan puffed out his chest and stepped forward quickly. "We've come to find Manager Jon."

The fierce-looking middle-aged man's smile faded at once, his face reverting to a cold expression. Though he seemed to have lost a customer, he still dared not turn Roland and his party away.

Stepping aside from the entrance, he said casually, "Manager Jon is inside. Go find him yourselves."

"Alright." Facing the man's suddenly cold attitude, Jonathan showed no displeasure. He hurried forward to push open the heavy door for Roland.

Roland, calm-faced, clasped his hands behind his back and strode inside.

The interior of the Shadow Merchant Guild was larger and more spacious than Roland had imagined. The floor was spotless, covered in luxurious carpets that felt soft and comfortable with every step.

The slaves here were stronger and healthier than those on the street. Though their eyes still held defiance, none dared to resist. And here, Roland spotted some beautiful, golden-haired, blue-eyed young girls, sitting pitifully in cages, waiting to be chosen.

This made Roland sneak a few glances, but to maintain his image—or rather, to protect his wallet—he suppressed his restless heart.

Just then, Jonathan leaned close to Roland and said, "Esteemed Lord Roland, the Shadow Merchant Guild isn't too famous, but it specializes in human slaves. Their stock is not only of better quality but also plentiful."

"How do you know I need human slaves?" Roland asked curiously.

"You're wearing a Pioneer Knight's badge. I took the liberty of guessing that you entered the Slave Trading Market to prepare for future territory." Jonathan replied cautiously.

"Hmm, sharp enough." Roland answered casually, not caring much that Jonathan had seen through his identity.

As they spoke, a man around fifty years old hurried toward Roland.

He wore a simple black robe, his dark brown hair streaked with gray. He was thin and small, with shrewd eyes set in deep sockets.

"Little Jonathan, I hear you've brought an honored guest. Is it this esteemed mage?" The gray-haired man spoke first, a smile on his face.

Though he addressed Jonathan, his eyes stayed fixed on Roland, sizing him up.

"Yes, Uncle Jon. This is Mage Roland. He's not only a mage but also a respected alchemist. Please be sure to offer a favorable price." Jonathan answered promptly.

His words made Jon's eyes light up, and his gaze toward Roland grew much warmer.

"Of course. Serving a distinguished alchemist is my honor." Jon finished speaking and gestured to Roland. "Lord Roland, why don't I first take you around for a look."

"Fine," Roland replied.