Court wizards... Isaac himself didn't know why he blurted out the word. Perhaps it was Moran's deliberately mysterious demeanor, coupled with the Eastern Territory- style furnishings and hookah in the room, that reminded him of the legendary wizards who walked in the court.
However, most people wouldn't subconsciously associate this behavior with court wizards. People usually only associate it with familiar figures. For ordinary people, they would probably think of more common folk groups like mediums and fortune tellers, rather than court wizards.
This means that, subconsciously, Isaac was more familiar with the image of a court sorcerer than a medium.
But he didn't remember ever encountering such people. Court wizards were a very ancient thing, and they couldn't be seen nowadays. Palmer didn't have court wizards, and Vista probably didn't either.
Isaac noted the question down and continued, "Anyway, she said I should practice meditation until I can consistently enter a meditative state before going to see her for the next step."
Carlo didn't ask any more questions, "Alright, let's go out then."
Leaving the office, the streetlights had just come on. Carlo led Isaac through several streets and stopped in front of a tavern.
The sign outside the tavern depicted a crow holding a wine glass and read " Raven's Barrel," while the cacophony of voices drifted through the door.
Pushing open the door, the tavern was even more bustling than it sounded from the outside. Waiters carried trays and moved between tables and chairs, and the aroma of malt and the sizzling fat of roasted meat filled the air.
Carlo found an empty seat at the bar, gestured to the bartender, who came over and wiped the counter with a cloth. "Sir, what would you like?"
"Take a look at today's menu."
The bartender pulled a small blackboard from under the table and placed it on the table, on which the names and prices of various drinks and light meals were written in chalk.
Carlo glanced at it. "Herb-roasted chicken legs, cream soup, bread, and... two cups of Raven Sunset."
Isaac looked at the menu and found the corresponding items for the first few, but he didn't see the words " Raven Sunset ".
The bartender responded and turned to prepare the food. Isaac asked in a low voice, "Boss, what is ' Raven Sunset '?"
"It's the black market's entry fee; this tavern is one of the black market's 'gateways.'"
Isaac was taken aback. He looked around and saw that everyone in the tavern was eating, drinking, and chatting, and there was nothing particularly unusual about them.
"As I said, the black market is located in the abandoned sewers, and the sewer system is a complex web. You could just go down into any manhole cover and wander around for ages without finding it, and you might end up covered in filth," Carlo said. "So the organizers of the black market bought several locations as entrances. People who want to enter the black market can go down through these entrances; there's a shortcut that leads directly to the black market."
"Is there an organizer for the black market?"
"Some do, some don't. In a black market controlled by the organizers, the organizers will protect the interests of both parties to a certain extent. Of course, there is also an entry fee for buyers and a deposit for sellers to prevent forced buying and selling or double-crossing. The difference from a normal market is that they won't ask what's being bought and sold, and they won't require a business license."
Isaac understood. He had originally thought the black market was a chaotic, lawless place, but it was more orderly than he had imagined, with a set of basic rules in operation.
The bartender brought out the food, and the two finished it quickly. The taste was much better than the Joint Investigation Bureau's big pot of potatoes.
After finishing his meal, Carlo left a few coins on the bar. The bartender collected the coins and gestured with his chin toward a small door at the far end of the bar.
Carlo stood up, Isaac followed. The two walked through the crowd and pushed open the inconspicuous wooden door.
Behind the door was a small room, with a narrow staircase leading down to the other end. Inside the room sat a burly man, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He glanced at the two men, probably knowing they had paid the entrance fee for " Raven Sunset," then looked away, picked up two of the lanterns from the floor, lit them, and handed them to the two.
"Rules: keep an eye on your own people and don't touch anything." The burly man gestured that they could leave.
But Carlo didn't take them immediately. He told the burly man to wait a moment, then pulled out two... wads of cloth from some pocket.
He tossed one over, and Isaac caught it, unfolded it, and saw that it was a bag with a loose opening and two holes in the surface.
"What's going on?" Isaac wondered, when he saw Carlo already putting the cloth bag he was carrying over his head.
His face was covered with burlap, only the holes for his eyes were visible...
He looked exactly like a ruthless bandit.
Carlo adjusted the position of the bag. "It's best to disguise yourself when you go to the black market. Although it won't stop you from targeting someone with malicious intent, it will at least prevent unrelated passersby from noticing you."
Isaac looked at the cloth bag in his hand, then put it on as well. He thought that if he walked down the street looking like this, he would probably be stopped and questioned by the police immediately.
Seeing the two men's attire, the burly man didn't say much; clearly, many people disguised themselves before entering.
Each of them carried a lantern provided by the organizer and walked down the stairs.
The further down you go, the colder and damper the air becomes, mixed with a strange smell. At the end is an iron gate, without a lock, just a simple bolt.
"Be prepared. Although the sewers where the black market is located are abandoned, the ones under the restaurant are not," Carlo said.
As he spoke, he pushed open the iron gate, and a stench of sewage hit him.
Isaac felt nauseous; the food he had just eaten almost rose up in his throat, so he quickly held his breath.
Carlo strode out, and Isaac followed behind Carlo, covering his mouth and nose.
Outside the gate is the main sewer, an arched brick structure about three meters high and wide enough for a horse-drawn carriage to pass through. In the center is a riverbed filled with murky sewage, and on both sides are paths for people to walk through.
The floor tiles were wet and slippery, covered with a layer of mud, making them slippery and sticky underfoot. In the end, Isaac didn't let his cane stick directly into the ground, and simply carried it with him.
Carlo led the way. " Vista is one of the earliest cities in the Western Territory to build a sewer system. The original pipes were built during the Old Empire era. After countless maintenance and three large-scale reconstructions, it has formed a large underground space, a perfect place for sewage, rats and criminals to gather."
"Recently, someone in parliament proposed expanding abandoned sections of the road to accommodate railcars, bypassing busy surface traffic—a subway, of course. The idea is good, but it's still under debate."
Isaac's gaze swept across both sides. Narrower branch pipes occasionally branched off from the main sewer, some of them wide open, their destinations unknown, some entrances blocked by iron bars, and others with the bars pried open by someone.
After walking for about seven or eight minutes, a fork in the road appeared ahead, where three waterways converged. Carlo turned into the slightly narrower passage on the right.