Han Lin still didn’t believe his statement but she didn’t hesitate to nod. "Sure. A female slave with potential to topple the Heavens. Understood."
She didn’t argue the matter any further. There was no use. She would simply follow him and if she believed he was going down a wrong path, she wouldn’t hesitate to draw his ear and point him back in the right track.
Lu Feng also didn’t tell her about the mission or the Heroine criteria. How could he? He didn’t even know what a real heroine looked like or how they even behaved.
In his mind, the word simply made him imagine the images of the legendary female cultivators he’d heard of in late night tavern rumors. They were women who could move mountains with a wave of a hand and possessed beauty that could topple sects.
His own sisters were considered geniuses by the family, but they were cold, distant figures who only viewed him as an unfortunate stain on the family’s name and worse, their parent’s golden streak.
Could a heroine truly be found in a place as filthy as the Black Market? The idea seemed paradoxical, but for some reason, he chose to believe in the system and the direction where it was pointing him.
After a quick meal, they checked out of the Silver Crane having spent the whole of their gold coin as best as they could. Lu Feng convinced the man to help him convert one gold coin into silver coins and the man did without much consideration after he was promised five silver as a tip.
When they finally left, they carried their packs, looking like any other pair of departing travelers, and off they went. However, as they moved deeper into the city’s slums, the whole atmosphere began to shift slowly.
The entrance to the Black Market was hidden behind a long line of worn down warehouses. It was practically a city within a city, separated by a high stone wall and guarded by men who wore no official uniform but carried weapons that were clearly well-maintained. However, it was clear as day that these men were orderly.
As they approached the gate, a guard with a jagged scar across his throat came forward. He didn’t ask for identification but instead, he simply looked at Lu Feng’s mismatched eyes and the quality of his cloak.
"Five silver per individual to enter," the guard grunted with an open hand.
Lu Feng didn’t haggle. He tossed the silver coins over he’d changed earlier and the guard stepped aside, gesturing toward the dark tunnel beyond. "Welcome to the black market."
The Black Market was an assault to all five human senses. The atmosphere felt choking with air laced with the smell of many things at once. Exotic spices, unwashed bodies, and even the metallic iron that came from blood.
Unlike the rest of Silver Jade City, where the rules were dictated by the Lu family and the other Great Houses, the Black Market was different. Here, the only rule was strength and the ability to pay for it.
Surprisingly, the crime rate here was lower than in the real slums. Thieves caught stealing from a stall were often executed on the spot by the market’s private security force made up of certain individuals that preferred to remain hidden.
However, the death rate remained high. Lu Feng saw why as they passed an open-air arena where two men were fighting to the death for a handful of silver and copper coins while a crowd cheered and placed bets.
"Stay close to me," Lu Feng whispered to Han Lin, who was already grabbing the sleeve of his robe so tightly her knuckles were white.
He stopped another guard, a man whose armor was etched with the symbol of a black sun. "The slave market and auction area. Where is it?"
The guard pointed a gauntleted thumb toward a massive, circular stone hall located in the middle of the district. "Down the main path. Follow the sound of the hammer. It’s impossible to miss."
They arrived at the auction hall just as a new set of slaves was being brought onto the stage. It was a grim sight. Men, women, and children were lined up like livestock, their eyes filled with crushing despair.
Despite being late, Lu Feng and Han Lin were granted access to the back of the hall after Lu Feng showed the usher a gold coin as proof that he actually had the means of owning a slave.
They stood in the shadows, watching as the auctioneer—a thin man with an annoying scratching voice—began to hawk his wares.
"A trio of field workers! Strong backs, low maintenance! Starting at ten silver!"
Lu Feng ignored the men on display. His eyes were scanning the rows of female slaves. According to the rumors, the Black Market sold fallen noblewomen or captured rogue cultivators once in a while.
But as he looked at the women on the stage, the blue box in his vision remained silent. There was no chime, no glow, no indication that any of these people were what he was looking for.
He saw women who were beautiful, yes. Some had the delicate features of former ladies, and others had the toned bodies of warriors. But they lacked... something. They felt like empty shells.
’Where are you?’ Lu Feng thought, his frustration growing as the auctioneer moved through the line. ’The system said a crippled heroine. Is she even here?’
"Next!" the auctioneer shouted, gesturing to a group of five women. "Household maids! Trained in the arts of service and silence! Starting at twenty silver!"
Han Lin watched the auction with a mixture of horror and pity. She leaned in close to Lu Feng’s ear. "Young Master, are you looking for someone specific? Most of these poor souls are just... they’re just ordinary people caught in a bad fate."
Lu Feng didn’t answer as he felt a strange, hollow sensation in his gut. He knew with absolute certainty that his target wasn’t on that stage. He didn’t know how he knew but it felt like it was an instinctual pull, a resonance that the auction hall simply wasn’t providing.
He watched the audience filled with wealthy merchants, low-level cultivators, and even a few masked individuals who looked like they belonged in a palace. They bid with a cold, detached look that told him that these people were here for the thrill of it. To them, these were not people; they were items waiting to be bought and owned.
The irony wasn’t lost on him. He was looking to be an investor too. But he wasn’t looking for a worker or a toy. He was looking for a miracle.
"She’s not here," Lu Feng muttered, his voice barely audible over the shouting of the bids.
"What?" Han Lin asked.
"We’re wasting our time in the main hall," Lu Feng said, turning toward the exit. "The high-value targets are gone, and the ordinary ones don’t fit. If she’s in this market, she’s not being paraded around under the lights."
He saw the countdown timer dropping as usual.
As they stepped back out into the smoky air of the Black Market, Lu Feng ignored the main thoroughfare. He began to look toward the side alleys, the holding pens where the waste was kept—the ones too injured, too sick, or too defiant to be put on the main stage.
He was looking for a crippled heroine. And the main stage was only for those who still appeared whole.
"Young Master, the transport agency will be closing its bookings for the noon carriage soon," Han Lin reminded him anxiously.
"We’ll make it," Lu Feng said, his eyes moving toward a low, iron-barred cellar door where a guard was dumping a bucket of waste. "But first, I need to check the junk piles."
He walked toward the cellar, his heart beginning to thrum with a new, frantic energy. The main auction was a show for the masses. But this... this was where the failures were.