When Angel arrived at the eighth alleyway, he looked at the broad avenue and long street teeming with voices and found it hard to imagine this was the so-called "alleyway."
Wasn't an alleyway supposed to be a deep, secluded path? Or did the people of Sandworm Market have some misunderstanding about the word "alleyway"?
With his inner complaints continuing unabated, Angel stepped into this spacious and bustling Eighth Alleyway.
Though the alleyway differed from what Angel had imagined, its liveliness and clearly distinguished shops made finding addresses much easier.
No. 816 sold live sandworms.
No. 817 gave no clue from its exterior what it sold, and there were not many people at its entrance.
No. 819 was... Elysium Pavilion. Angel knew that Elysium Pavilions could be found everywhere, but this one was decorated with all kinds of entwined sandworms, giving it a strangely subtle feeling. Was this for people's entertainment, or for the sandworms' entertainment?
Angel shook his head and continued onward. No. 820 was a small shop that sold sandworm hides.
At that point, Angel suddenly froze. He looked back again—821, 822... Every shop was numbered in perfect sequence. Yet he could not find No. 818!
Angel doubled back to the space between No. 817 and No. 819. After hesitating between the two shops for a moment, he ultimately entered No. 817.
Previously, he had not been able to tell what this shop sold from outside. Once inside, he discovered that its shelves were filled with jars and bottles of every kind. However, they did not contain potions, but sandworm powder and sandworm corpses preserved in preservatives.
"Is there anything you need, sir?" The speaker was a middle-aged man with a handlebar mustache seated behind the counter. Rather than a waiter, he looked like an elegant old aristocrat.
The