The Underground Black Market

Heka's destination for his shopping trip wasn't aboveground. Although staying on the surface would have helped him avoid being clubbed from behind and followed, there were probably plenty of hounds watching the wolfhound loaded with Huika Gold Coins.

They were just waiting for the little lamb to show its head so they could butcher it and swallow it whole.

Heka had seen it happen before. Once, for the sake of a jewelry box plated with a layer of gold, Fat Pig had snapped a little pickpocket's neck and thrown him onto the trash heap outside.

At the time, Heka and another little pickpocket had been the ones to carry away the body.

Heka knew that jewelry box existed because it was the very thing the man whose neck had been snapped had stolen from him.

Underground black markets were usually run by several established merchants or by the gang controlling the area.

Regardless of which faction was in charge, the location was changed every so often.

However, even if a gang had the means to establish a foothold in the deeper sewers, it would not choose such a place, since that would make it difficult for customers to reach safely and conveniently.

While exploring the sewers in the past, Heka had happened to discover that a black market was currently operating here. There were not many places that could serve as a black market site.

Following a flight of stone steps leading upward, Heka arrived in a hall with one side already collapsed. It looked somewhat like the reception hall in a lord's manor.

Heka advanced cautiously. When he heard a rustling sound in the distance, the boy immediately stopped and slowed his breathing.

Fortunately, the rustling did not come toward him. After a brief pause, it gradually faded into the distance.

Heka guessed it was probably a group of rats.

Sewer rats were different from rats aboveground.

A rat on the surface could at most leave a bite that became infected, but sewer rats carried a deadly plague. As long as their large incisors tore away even a small patch of flesh, the victim's heartbeat would soon accelerate, after which their body would stiffen and they would die.

The little incident along the way did not hinder Heka's progress. After following several iron spikes driven into the bricks by those who had come before him down to the platform below,

Heka found a concealed mark.

It was a small white mouse, the symbol of the black market.

Heka touched the mark with his palm. It was very fresh. Some shattered pieces of stone remained at the base of the wall below, along with a few scattered footprints faintly visible on the moss.

Heka once again confirmed that his arm crossbow and dagger were on him. He then completely wrapped his left hand in strips of cloth, making it look like a mummy's.

Although life aboveground was filled with indescribable hardship, Heka's arm was still too tender and slender compared with the arms of adult dwarves and halflings.

The black-market merchants were all seasoned operators. Even in the dim light, there was still a chance they would notice this flaw.

Heka had originally planned to wrap both arms, but although stuffing the cloth could imitate the muscular bulk of an adult halfling's arm, it would restrict his movement.

Heka still needed one hand free to deal with any battle that might break out.

After preparing himself, Heka steeled his courage and followed the mark's guidance toward the black market.

Unlike the black markets described by the bards, the so-called black market in Seapeak Port's sewers had neither expensive magical items nor elven slave trading.

Most of the stalls belonged to small bands of bandits, who came here mainly to fence stolen goods.

The somewhat larger bandit groups and the gangs had their own dedicated channels for disposing of stolen goods, so they had no need to sell anything here.

Heka did not linger over the figures crouched in the darkness on either side. Instead, he went straight toward the food stall in the distance.

The source of the food sold at the stall was obvious. Most of it came from little rats in charge of guarding warehouses who had stolen from their own stores. Not only were the prices cheap, but the quality was also reasonably guaranteed.

The only drawback was that the goods had to be collected from the warehouse.

This was the only channel through which Heka could buy in bulk without arousing suspicion. After all, this place primarily dealt in large-volume purchases.

Moreover, these people had no particularly close ties to the gangs. He might be able to bluff his way through.

Heka looked up at the clearly marked price board inside the little shop. The prices here were roughly twenty percent lower than those aboveground. He had heard that if one ordered enough, one could even get a lower price.

Heka tapped the tabletop with his finger, waiting for the person opposite him to focus his attention on him.

The man at the stall wore a mask.

Once Heka confirmed that the man had shifted his gaze from the moss on the ground to him, he pointed at the black bread. He then extended his left arm, revealing five fingers wrapped beneath the cloth, with only their tips slightly exposed.

He then pointed at the price of the dried fish and folded down one finger.

The clerk looked at the twisted arm wrapped in cloth and placed a total of sixty-four copper coins on the table in three batches, immediately understanding the other man's intentions.

Although the other party looked strange, how should he put it? There were no normal people in the black market. If there were one, that normal person would actually be the strangest of them all.

"Fifty pounds of black bread, forty pounds of dried fish. Anything else?"

The man carefully sized up the person before him, then withdrew his gaze before the other party could feel offended.

He swept all the copper coins into the drawer beneath the table, then pulled out a sheet of paper from beside him. He casually drew a few characters on it, dipped a brush in some ink, and brushed it across the surface of a wooden block, pressing the resulting print onto the paper.

"Do you know where to collect the goods?"

The man looked at the person before him, who was probably a dwarf or halfling, and rubbed his temples.

Most of their customers were regulars, mainly familiar caravan leaders or ship captains who came here to purchase food. The quality was guaranteed, and the price was twenty percent lower than what was available on the market.

The money saved could naturally go into his own pocket.

Customers with unfamiliar faces were often difficult to serve. He had to explain whom they should contact, how to hand over the goods, and how to collect the food.

"Good. If you don't collect this today, it'll be void. And don't fold it."

After receiving the food, Heka did not leave immediately. Instead, he walked toward the other side, where the stalls selling stolen goods were located. They had all sorts of things, most of them used weapons and ironware.

Heka followed the black market along and soon found his target.

It was a short sword that appeared to be in fairly good condition. It looked somewhat like the standard weapon issued to a noble's private army, though he had no idea whether its owner had been robbed after being killed or whether it was smuggled military equipment.

After confirming his target, Heka picked up the short sword and examined it carefully, then lightly tapped it with his finger.

The owner of the stall, who was completely covered in a black robe, raised his gaze and fixed it on the customer before him.

Heka guessed that beneath the other man's robe was probably a weapon—perhaps a crossbow aimed at his throat, or a sharp dagger coated in a poison that would kill with a single drop of blood.