Farmers did not grow crops. They raised blood banks, keeping children and able-bodied adults penned up to supply fresh blood to the nobles. Udil Beckett was the largest Farmer in town.
Joey had come to trade with him for a Foundation Stone.
Long before he reached the farm, he heard waves of raucous shouting. A crowd had gathered in a circle.
Violence was revered here, and gladiatorial fights were their greatest entertainment. The thrill of fists pounding flesh and the desperate struggle of bloody combat drove them wild. Yet all of this might be over nothing more than a piece of oat bread.
"Kohler! Stab him in the ass!"
"Mike! You goddamn bastard! I bet everything I own on you! You'd better not lose!"
"..."
The two men in the center of the circle were drenched in blood, while the spectators raised both hands and shouted with excitement.
Without the sun's radiance, all that remained in the world was darkness.
Joey had never understood the point of entertainment built on bloodshed and violence.
The fight ended with one man's death. The roaring reached a crescendo as everyone cheered the victor. No one cared that a living, breathing person had just died.
Joey found Udir and explained why he had come: he wanted a Foundation Stone.
Udil Beckett had a thick beard and slightly curly brown hair. He was always boasting that noble blood flowed through his veins.
He narrowed his eyes, the characteristic cunning of a merchant gleaming within them. He looked Joey up and down, taking in his ragged, thin clothes and black hair, tangled like a bird's nest.
"I have no need for lowly blood."
In this world, black hair and black eyes marked the lowest of the low. Only golden or silver hair signified nobility.
Joey silently sneered.
He was always grumbling that Senegal was full of barbarians. Without ultraviolet rays from sunlight, how could their hair not turn white? Black hair was the sign of good health.
Joey glanced around, indicating that this was no place to talk. Impatiently, Udir led him into the house. With its blue bricks and glazed roof tiles, it was immeasurably better than Joey's little wooden hut.
Joey carefully took out the test tube he had prepared beforehand. The blood inside gleamed a brilliant red.
Udir's lethargy vanished in an instant, and a greedy smile spread across his lips.
How long had it been since he had seen blood of such quality? He took the test tube and, without hesitation, dripped a drop onto his palm, then greedily licked it up.
"Prime stuff! Joey, where did you get this?"
Damn it. Even diluted, it's still this good. This is trouble. Once I get the Foundation Stone, I have to leave immediately.
Joey was already planning to take Old Tony and flee this place.
His mind raced. His original excuse clearly would not hold up. He needed a plausible explanation now if he was going to bluff his way through.
In his original plan, he would claim that the blood in this tube had been purified using equipment. After all, everyone knew about the practice, and everyone did it. Many simply were not willing to spend the time.
But now, the blood's purity and quality clearly exceeded the highest level any machine could achieve.
"You lucky brat! You managed to purify something this good!"
"Yes, yes! I had to collect blood from over a dozen Night Beasts to get this one tube."
Taking his cue from Udir's words, Joey quickly found an explanation.
"What do you want?" Udir asked.
"I need a Foundation Stone!"
"Oh." Udir gave Joey a meaningful look.
At market prices, neither side would lose out on the exchange.
"How much more of this blood do you have?"
Was he trying to probe my resources?
Joey hesitated, putting on a look of bitter regret.
"Unfortunately, this is all I have. It took me half a year just to get this one tube."
He was making it clear both that he had no more and that purification had taken half a year. Trading it for a single Foundation Stone was hardly a loss for Udir.
"Corey, throw him out."
Before Joey could process what was happening, the door swung open. A burly, powerfully built man grabbed him and dragged him outside.
"Mr. Beckett, you can't do this!"
"Mr. Beckett, I really need a Foundation Stone. Please!"
Joey was mercilessly thrown to the ground. He slid a long way before coming to a stop, pain tearing through his body.
"Get lost, Joey! Useless trash!"
"Look! Mr. Beckett threw him out!"
"..."
Because of his black hair, even these lowly blood bank candidates looked down on him.
Amid their contemptuous jeers, Joey dragged his exhausted body away from the farm.
"Pah! Merchants really are all crooks."
The moment Udir heard that Joey had no further supply, he had simply robbed him outright.
The weak had no rights. Joey should have realized that long ago, but he had only approached Udir because he had no other choice. Only Farmers were entitled to own Foundation Stones, and every stone was registered. Getting one on the black market was impossible.
Still, he had not given up. Instead, he turned a corner, preparing to steal one. He had made two sets of preparations from the start. With the first approach blocked, he could only put his second plan into action.
There were more than a dozen people on this farm, but Udir was the only one with real combat power. He was its sole Magician, a Sequence 9 Dust Veil Master of the pathway of light.
A Dust Veil Master could briefly cloud a person's senses, obscuring and confusing their vision. The entire farm lay within the range of his dust veil.
Without his permission, ordinary people could not even find the way into the farm's rear courtyard. In the Outer City, a Sequence 9 Magician was already capable of holding his own.
Everyone in Senegal was a subject of the Sun God. The omniscient, omnipotent Sun God possessed three great paths of the divine: light, blazing sun, and giant.
Confident in his abilities, Udir had never paid any attention to security at the estate. After all, to a Transcendent, ordinary people were no different from ants, apart from being a little larger.
Joey circled around to the rear courtyard and stopped. Any farther, and he would enter Udir's dust veil. Rather than rushing in, he checked his surroundings. Only after finding nothing unusual did he grit his teeth and step inside.
His vision spun wildly. It was as though he were submerged in chaos, unable to sense his own hands or feet.
He bit the tip of his tongue, the pain restoring a little clarity. Dark red blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. He dabbed it with his fingers and smeared it around his eyes. The sensation of weightlessness slowly began to fade.
His vision returned, and the illusions vanished. Joey let out a long breath of relief.
Joey had accidentally discovered his blood's unusual properties during an offering to a deity. The deity had seemed to react to his blood. After several more experiments, he confirmed that his blood was indeed different.
He had only just entered the estate's rear courtyard when he heard a burst of rowdy shouting. The voices sounded somewhat familiar. Keeping himself hidden, he crept toward a small house ahead and peered through a gap in the window. His expression changed drastically.
How could it be them?
A group of men were drinking inside. At their head sat the bandit leader.