Black Gold Corridor

Ryan's return was a timely relief. If he hadn't come back soon, Gagnor had been preparing to go to Raven Inn himself.

On the way to the slums, Gagnor noticed that Ryan's gait was a little strange, as though he was trying not to tug at an injury, and couldn't help asking, "Are you hurt?"

"Yeah, just a minor injury," Ryan said.

"Where did you deliver the letter?"

Ryan said, "The County of Presto. Things were a little rough on the way..."

The two of them arrived at Raven Street.

Compared to the first time he had come, Gagnor was treated very differently.

The emblem of the Gray Hawk Mercenary Group and Ryan at his side made those furtive characters wisely put away their malicious stares.

At the same time, however, the beggars who had previously paid Gagnor little attention became much more enthusiastic. They gathered around in twos and threes. "Master Alchemist, please, show some kindness!"

"Noble sir, I missed breakfast at the church. For Mosa's sake, could you give me a few pieces of bran bread?"

"I don't want copper coins, and I don't want bread. I only want Nightshade Nettle leaves. It's been so long since I last tasted them... Master Alchemist, surely this won't be difficult for someone as generous as you, will it?"

Gagnor remained completely unmoved by the beggars, while Ryan gave alms to some of them and ignored the others.

"Do you never give alms?" Ryan asked.

Gagnor said, "If helping someone can't bring about change, I usually don't offer help."

Ryan was silent for a while. "That makes sense."

"Why do you give alms to some of them?" Gagnor asked.

"Because I know them. I used to live here." Ryan pointed at a lame vagrant in the distance, a trace of remembrance flashing across his face. "That man and I used to steal together when we were children."

"Later, we learned something. If you stole money from a kind nun, the worst that would happen was getting scolded. But if you dared to reach into Loha's pocket, you'd lose at least one leg..."

Ryan continued recounting his past in fragments until they turned a corner and saw a dilapidated inn.

Raven Inn.

As its signboard claimed, it really was an inn. Quite a few guests stayed and dined there, and the air was thick with the smell of cheap ale. Crumbs of bran bread could be seen everywhere.

But when Ryan entered the inn, walked up to a server in the corner, and took out the badge of a fourth-level thief, the other person immediately stepped aside, revealing a narrow, dim passage.

Ryan entered the passage with practiced ease, and Gagnor followed close behind.

The passage spiraled downward. After walking along it for a while, their view gradually brightened, and fragments of conversation grew increasingly clear in their ears.

After passing through the passage and another small room, Gagnor arrived at a rather long corridor. Numerous stalls lined it, with dozens of people gathered in groups of two or three, chatting around them. It was even livelier than the inn above.

"This is the Black Gold Corridor," Ryan said.

Gagnor noticed that some people here wore masks or hoods. "Do I need to conceal my identity, too?"

Ryan said, "If you're here to trade in Mosa Follower slaves, concealing your identity would undoubtedly be wise. But if you're only selling a Bloodsail Pirates badge, there's no need."

Gagnor said, "I'm a little curious. Why can Bloodsail Pirates badges be exchanged for money here?"

Ryan merely said, "Almost every Bloodsail Pirate with a name and identity is on the wanted list of the Marquisate of Dibuto."

Gagnor nodded, more or less understanding.

"Come on. I'll take you to meet the 'middleman.'"

Following Ryan, Gagnor soon saw a figure in the corner of the Black Gold Corridor, wrapped tightly from head to toe. The robe, hood, and face veil that revealed only the eyes made it impossible even to tell the person's gender.

"What service do you need?" The middleman sat before a stall, and his voice was equally strange. It had no discernible regional or gendered characteristics.

Gagnor took out three Bloodsail Pirates badges.

Like most identity badges, the fronts of the Bloodsail Pirates badges bore their insignia, while the backs contained detailed identity information.

The middleman took the three badges. He glanced at two of them once before setting them down. "You can sell these two to the scavenger at Raven Inn. I don't collect junk."

The badge of the "Water Elemental" held his gaze for a moment longer.

Then he closed his eyes and slowly ran his index finger over the badge, as though sensing something.

A moment later, he opened his eyes. "Can you tell me how he died?"

Ryan interrupted, "I think you should know that asking for information in the Black Gold Corridor usually costs money."

The middleman said indifferently, "You don't have to answer. I'm merely curious. This Bloodsail Pirate, nicknamed 'Water Elemental,' was originally a radical seaborne raider. Then he received a prophecy claiming that he would die in a storm. From that point on, he stayed away from the storm-ridden sea and ran amok on land instead."

After a pause, he asked, "So did he go to sea again?"

Gagnor merely said, "No."

The middleman nodded without asking anything else, then took out a money pouch and handed it over. "Sixty silver coins."

Gagnor counted them. There were indeed sixty silver coins. He happily accepted them at once, solving his imminent personal financial crisis.

Ryan said at this point, "My friend is here for the first time. Please give him a transaction certificate."

The middleman took out a patterned piece of stiff paper and handed it to Gagnor.

Gagnor looked at it in his hand and felt that it resembled a receipt, though he had no idea what it was for.

Ryan explained, "Once the transaction reaches fifty silver coins and you pay the Thieves' Guild a five-silver-coin handling fee, you can claim a Black Gold pass and enter and leave the Black Market freely. Otherwise, I may have to bring you in every time."

As he spoke, he walked straight to a stall, sat down, and propped up a sign.

The sign read: Long-term purchase of all kinds of intelligence.

Gagnor stared in surprise. "This is your stall?"

"Strictly speaking, it's the mercenary group's stall. I just happen to be on duty today." Ryan said, "I have to work now. Feel free to look around... By the way, how come I feel like you never need to work? Every time I look for you, you're free. Are all the other alchemists like that, too?"

"I'm just relatively good at managing my time." Gagnor shrugged.

"All right."

Gagnor wandered around the Black Gold Corridor for a while.

Overall, the place sold everything under the sun. Some goods were legal or merely questionable, but most were prohibited items, such as stolen goods, banned religious books, Black Magic books, restricted potions, counterfeit currency, criminal contracts, smuggled goods, and so on.

Apart from stolen goods, the most common merchandise was probably products made from Nightshade Nettle leaves.

Nightshade Nettle leaves were restricted by the church, the lords, and the Alchemists' Guild. Through legitimate channels, the only Nightshade Nettle product one could obtain was practically Pain Relief Potion.

But this was the Black Market, so Nightshade Nettle products were not only common, but also came in countless varieties: candy, desserts, tobacco... You name it.

A stall called "Potent Potions Expert" caught Gagnor's attention.

The stall owner wore a mask, but judging by her figure, she appeared to be a woman. When she saw Gagnor approach, she asked, "Buying or selling?"