Adjusting tactics and adjusting one's condition—these were abilities witches in major leagues had to possess.
At the same time, the enormous fanbases and audiences brought by these competitive witches would drive the black markets of a region into frantic growth.
Although these black markets were all built atop Sky Islands, each one more conspicuous than the last.
"..."
"Big Cat Spin Bar."
Jiang Han looked up at the neon sign of the black market before her, then at the rows upon rows of standees depicting flamboyant catgirls. It seemed fitting; everything seemed steeped in a so-called "pink" atmosphere. Yet these really were a serious group of cat witches. Performance dates were posted beneath the standees. They appeared to be a witch idol group from the Eastern Isles. Jiang Han had never watched them, though she seemed to have seen similar promotional groups before.
She took a deep breath.
It was fine. This sister had even visited Qinhuai in South City once.
She rubbed her hands together, flicked her cat tail, raised her head, straightened up, and marched forward.
She pushed open the matte-black metal door with its slightly futuristic style and walked in.
Thump thump thump.
Thump thump.
Music that almost immediately made one unable to resist nodding along, twisting one's waist from side to side.
Neon tubes in colors fit for the underworld.
A heavy metal witch band screaming in guttural vocals like pigs being slaughtered. They wore pure-black bunny-girl outfits without cold-weather clothing, their rainbow-painted nails matched with eyeshadow in a funeral-culture style. All in all, even the words "underworld" seemed a little inadequate for this treasured place.
The scent of wine.
The scent of meat.
And large numbers of semi-transparent, soundproof private rooms from which one could see outside. The open second floor above the bar seemed