Under the burly man’s watchful eye, no one with second thoughts dared to follow Mandy Donovan out.
Mandy Donovan deliberately slowed her pace, but saw no followers.
‘They’re lucky to be alive!’
‘If anyone had dared to follow, she would have had to shed some blood!’
Since no one came looking for death, Mandy Donovan wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.
She walked toward the nearest single-story building, where a sound she found increasingly familiar was coming from.
“This is definitely a Source Stone!
I tested the surface; there are energy fluctuations.”
“If you could just find a Source Stone by picking up any old rock, they’d be lying all over the ground, wouldn’t they?”
A stone grinder screeched harshly, but the men’s shouts were still audible over the noise.
Mandy Donovan had always been curious about what distinguished a Source Stone from a plain rock, so she pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The room was filled with dust!
She choked out a dry cough.
The men only glanced back at her for a moment before resuming their argument.
“Careful!
Don’t damage what’s inside!”
Another man was skeptical.
“You’re too confident.
Just don’t get your hopes up!” A few men were gathered around a machine.
The floor was covered in stone fragments.
There was a pile of discarded rocks on the floor nearby, which looked increasingly familiar to her.
‘I’m sure of it.
This is stone gambling!’
‘After all these years, the practice of stone gambling hasn’t changed a bit.’
Mandy Donovan stood to the side, enduring the choking dust as she watched them grind away the stone’s outer rind.
“It’s a Source Stone!
It’s really a Source Stone!”
The men were overjoyed.
It was as if their earlier argument had never happened.
“A piece this big must be worth a fortune.
You lucky son of a gun, to think you just stumbled upon a Source Stone.”
“Where’d you find it?
I want to go try my luck, too.”
The Source Stone’s owner gleefully named a location.
Everyone gathered around him was visibly tempted.
Mandy Donovan was tempted too.
‘Since Source Stones are so valuable, they must be very useful.’ Seeing that the men had shut down the machine and quieted down, she took the initiative to speak up.
“Could I take a look?
I’ve never seen one before, I’m just curious.” She had a bamboo basket on her back and a leaf-wrapped package in her hand.
“Just a touch.”
The man generously held out the stone.
“Go ahead.
I’m about to sell it to the Black Market anyway.”
The cut “window” had been wiped with a damp cloth, revealing a pale yellow, translucent material that gave off a faint glow.
Just getting close, you could feel energy radiating from the stone!
Mandy Donovan felt it.
She reached out and touched it; the texture was very similar to jade.
‘If this really is a type of jade, I know plenty of places to find it.’ Memorizing the texture, she pulled her hand back.
“Thanks.
That’s the first time I’ve ever seen a Source Stone!”
“Heh heh, I just got lucky.
Found it while I was out gathering.
It felt different the moment I picked it up.” The man took out a ragged cloth, wrapped the stone, and headed out toward the small building.
The other men were excited.
“Let’s go, we should try our luck too!”
“With Source Stones, it’s either feast or famine!”
Mandy Donovan truly felt that the Source Stone was a type of jade she was familiar with.
If so, she needed to investigate further.
So far, the clues she had were that the energy in Mutated Beast Meat was beneficial for superpowers, and that one way to enhance a superpower was by using a Crystal Core.
Source Stones, however, were far more mysterious; she still wasn’t clear on their purpose.
Of course, she hadn’t forgotten her reason for coming to the Black Market today.
She entered another one-story building.
Inside this room, three women were sewing clothes by hand.
A pile of fabric was stacked on a table to the side.
In the far corner, there was a loom that, to Mandy Donovan, looked like an ancient antique.
‘Incredible!’
‘Hundreds of years after the Great Cataclysm, they haven’t unearthed any high-tech gadgets, but they managed to dig up this relic, and it still works!’
Even though Mandy Donovan had no interest in looms, she couldn’t help but stare at it for a while.
“Looking to buy fabric?
This is made from rare cotton fiber,” one of the women said to Mandy Donovan as she continued to sew.
“This fiber was preserved for hundreds of years.
It’s not easy to process it into cloth!”
‘That’s not how you use cotton, though!’ Mandy Donovan thought as she reached out to touch the fabric.
“How much is it?”
“The thin kind, for undergarments, is thirty points per meter.
The thick kind for coats and pants is forty-five points per meter.
Oh, and it’s all low-level contamination.
Definitely good stuff,” the woman pitched enthusiastically.
There wasn’t much choice in color—just drab blacks and dark grays—only the thickness varied.
It had the texture of pure cotton fabric.
Mandy Donovan tested it with her wristband.
DING!
[Cotton Fiber Fabric.
Low-Level Contamination.
Suitable for clothing and other uses.]
The woman grinned.
“See?
I didn’t lie, did I?
You can test it all.
It’s all low-level contamination.”
The pile of fabric looked large, but it actually wasn’t that much.
After a moment’s thought, Mandy Donovan said, “I’ll take all of it.
And sell me a needle and thread, a pair of scissors, and a meter stick.”
“A-All of it?” The woman was stunned.
The other two women also looked over in shock.
Cotton fiber fabric was expensive and not very durable; they hadn’t sold much of it since the Black Market opened.
The three women said in unison, “This is enough to make over a dozen pieces of clothing!
If you don’t have a big family, you won’t be able to use it all!”
“It’s very expensive!
That’s no way to spend your points!”
“Do you have any ready-made clothes from this fabric?
Let me pick a few, and you can add them to the total.” ‘Even with a small family, she still wanted this low-contamination fabric for herself.
If she had more points, she wouldn’t have minded buying even more.’ Mandy Donovan ignored the three women’s well-intentioned advice; she had her own plans.
The women all put down their work.
One of them came over, pulled out a meter stick, and began measuring the pile of fabric.
“Let me see how much there is, and I’ll give you a total.”
Another stood up and beckoned Mandy Donovan over.
“Miss, the finished clothes are over here.
See if there’s anything you want.
If not, we can also make something for you.”
Where the women had been sitting, there was a box filled with their ready-made garments.
Mandy Donovan rummaged through them.
As luck would have it, they had everything she needed, so she wouldn’t have to make the clothes herself.
She immediately picked out two sets of undergarments and two changes of outer clothes for her two brothers.
She also chose two sets for herself.
Seeing how much she was buying, the woman’s face lit up with joy.
For every extra item sold, they earned a little more commission.
“We made them all by hand.
They’re very comfortable to wear.”
“What do they sell in the small building in the center?” Mandy Donovan had already checked all the one-story buildings; only the central building was left.
“It’s different every day, you’ll have to go see for yourself,” the third woman said as she helped her companions calculate the points.
“We also have finished bedsheets and pillows.
Want some?
They’re the same material.
Others thought they were too expensive, so they’ve never sold.”
“I’ll take three sets.” The bedsheets for the three of them had come from the welfare center and were long since worn to shreds.
Even so, they couldn’t bear to throw them away, patching them up again and again until they were completely beyond repair.
The pile of fabric was folded into neat little squares.
Along with the ready-made clothes, pillows, and bedsheets, they completely filled the bamboo basket.
The smaller items, like the meter stick and scissors, were wrapped in a piece of cloth by the women and stuffed into the basket.
To avoid getting the contents dirty, she carried the leaf-wrapped package of meat in her hand.
After paying the points, Mandy Donovan swung the basket onto her back, hooked her fingers around the leaf package, and walked toward the small building in the center of the Black Market.
The atmosphere around it was unusually tense.
In addition to the burly men standing guard downstairs,
there were people patrolling every floor inside.
And what they carried on their backs weren’t clubs or blades—