The city greeted him with its usual chaos.
Towering skyscrapers disappeared into the clouds while holographic advertisements flickered across entire buildings, promoting everything from mana supplements to newly discovered dungeon equipment.
Streams of autonomous vehicles flowed through the elevated highways overhead, their faint hum blending with the chatter of thousands of pedestrians below.
People hurried past without sparing him a second glance.
Office workers.
Awakeners.
Tourists.
Bureau officers.
Visitors from other worlds.
New California remained one of the few cities where seeing an elf buying coffee beside a businessman had long since stopped surprising anyone.
Dylan adjusted the strap of his backpack and continued through the crowded streets.
Nearly thirty minutes later…
The scenery gradually changed.
Modern storefronts gave way to older brick buildings that somehow seemed forgotten by time itself.
Hidden between a tailor’s shop and an old bookstore stood a narrow antique store.
Its wooden signboard had faded with age.
Elegant Latin letters had been carefully carved into the dark timber.
“Omnibus Diversorum Gustuum Hospitium.”
Beneath it, in much smaller English lettering…
“Hospitality for All Different Tastes”
Dylan smiled faintly.
“…Still using the same password.”
He pushed open the door.
Jingle.
A small brass bell rang softly overhead.
The interior smelled faintly of old wood, leather and polished brass.
Shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, filled with dusty clocks, rusted helmets, ancient paintings, cracked porcelain, forgotten books and countless curiosities collected over decades.
At first glance…
It looked exactly like an ordinary antique shop.
Only one customer occupied the building.
A man stood quietly behind the counter, carefully polishing an old pocket watch.
He looked to be around fifty-five.
Loose strands of grey hair framed a weathered face covered by a full beard streaked with silver.
A perfectly tailored charcoal suit concealed the broad build beneath it, while calm blue eyes observed the room with quiet patience.
The instant Dylan looked at him…
His instincts screamed.
Danger.
Not murderous intent.
Simply overwhelming presence.
“…As expected.”
Dylan remained outwardly calm.
Elijah Winston.
Former Marine.
Current Black Market Handler.
An S-Rank Awakener.
Even standing still…
He carried himself like someone who had survived countless battlefields.
No wonder people throughout the underground respected him.
Elijah finished polishing the pocket watch before looking up.
A warm professional smile appeared.
“Good morning.”
“Welcome.”
“What brings you here today?”
Dylan approached the counter.
“Morning.”
“My name’s Dylan.”
“Elijah Winston.”
The older man extended his hand.
“Pleasure meeting you.”
“The pleasure’s mine.”
They shook hands briefly.
Elijah’s grip was firm without being excessive.
“So…”
He rested his elbows lightly upon the counter.
“What exactly are you looking for?”
“I’m actually here to sell something.”
“Oh?”
Elijah smiled politely.
“And what might that be?”
Dylan answered calmly.
“…Moonlight.”
For the first time…
Elijah’s smile disappeared.
One eyebrow slowly rose.
His eyes carefully studied Dylan.
“Who taught you that code?”
Dylan shrugged.
“Someone I know.”
“He can be…”
“…Problematic.”
Silence lingered for several seconds.
Then Elijah smiled once again.
“I see.”
He stepped away from the counter.
“Follow me.”
Without another word, he led Dylan through a narrow doorway concealed behind a bookshelf.
The moment it closed…
The atmosphere changed completely.
Hidden security cameras lined the corridors.
Reinforced steel doors replaced ordinary walls.
Several concealed mana formations shimmered briefly before recognising Elijah and disappearing once more.
Dylan quietly followed behind him.
It always amused him.
The entrance appeared laughably easy.
People often assumed the Black Market lacked security.
In reality…
The greatest security measure walked only a few steps ahead of him.
If Bureau officers ever attempted to storm this branch…
Elijah Winston alone could likely eliminate the entire squad before they reached the second corridor.
Against an S-Rank…
Numbers meant very little.
Eventually they entered a spacious office.
Elijah sat behind a heavy oak desk.
“Let’s have a look.”
Dylan carefully removed a waterproof pouch from his backpack.
Inside rested several Moonveil Herbs.
Elijah examined them silently.
After several minutes…
He nodded.
“Authentic.”
He paused.
“Although…”
His fingers lightly brushed one damaged leaf.
“Storage wasn’t perfect.”
“The specimen suffered minor deterioration.”
Dylan sighed.
“…My fault.”
“I underestimated how delicate they were.”
“It happens.”
Elijah closed the pouch.
“I can still move them.”
He wrote several figures across a sheet of paper before sliding it across the desk.
“$11.9 million.”
Dylan looked down.
Then smiled.
“I was hoping for better.”
Elijah folded his hands.
“So negotiate.”
“The damaged leaves reduce purity.”
“They do.”
“But only by a small margin.”
Dylan tapped the report.
“The roots are intact.”
“The mana concentration remains exceptionally high.”
“And this harvest came from naturally occurring Moonveil.”
“Not cultivated substitutes.”
Elijah remained silent.
Dylan continued.
“You won’t struggle finding buyers.”
“In fact…”
“You probably already have three.”
A small smile tugged at Elijah’s beard.
“…Continue.”
“$13.8 million.”
“I’ll leave immediately afterwards.”
“No unnecessary questions.”
“No future obligations.”
“You earn a satisfied supplier.”
Several moments later…
Elijah quietly laughed.
“I’ve negotiated with professional smugglers.”
“You’re considerably more pleasant.”
He extended his hand.
“$13.8 million.”
“Deal.”
They shook hands.
The transaction concluded.
Before leaving, Dylan’s attention drifted toward a display cabinet.
Inside rested dozens of forgotten Armaments.
Most possessed little combat value.
One, however, immediately caught his eye.
Resting against the display rack was a compact single-handed axe no longer than Dylan’s forearm, measuring roughly 65 centimetres (about 26 inches) from pommel to blade.
Time had stripped away any grandeur it might once have possessed.
The dark iron head bore countless tiny nicks and scratches accumulated over decades of use, while the crescent-shaped edge retained a surprisingly sharp finish despite its age.
Faint silver veins of mana ran through the metal like frozen lightning, revealing that it was no ordinary tool.
The handle was carved from dense black ashwood, wrapped near the grip with worn strips of deep-brown leather polished smooth by countless hands.
It wasn’t beautiful.
It wasn’t legendary.
It simply looked dependable.
The kind of weapon that had survived because it refused to break.
Dylan simply liked it.
“…How much for that?”
Elijah glanced toward it.
“Interesting choice.”
“Most buyers ignore it.”
“I won’t, and that bracelet beside it?”
A simple silver bracelet rested upon black velvet.
“An Inventory Bracelet,” Elijah explained.
“Internal storage comparable to roughly three football fields about 150,000 square feet, give or take. Reliable, old, but functional.”
“I’ll take both.”
Elijah nodded.
“Done.”
Several minutes later…
The paperwork concluded.
Dylan slipped the bracelet onto his wrist.
The sensation of connecting to the internal storage felt strangely natural.
Rain.
The spare axe.
His supplies.
Everything transferred smoothly.
“…Convenient.”
He genuinely approved.
Elijah escorted him back toward the front entrance.
“It was a pleasure doing business.”
“Likewise.”
“If you ever obtain something interesting you know where to find me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
The little brass bell rang once more as Dylan stepped outside.
His phone vibrated almost immediately.
Transaction Complete
Funds Received: $7,300,000
A satisfied smile appeared.
“…Now that’s significantly healthier than one hundred and fifty-two dollars.”
He slipped the phone back into his pocket.
For a brief moment…
He considered another destination.
Sophia Williams.
“…Should I visit her?”
He thought about it.
Then slowly shook his head.
“…No.”
“Some other time.”
There were more important matters waiting.
Nexus Academy.
Aurora Isle.
Unlike ordinary universities…
The world’s greatest academy stood upon a massive terraformed island in the Pacific Ocean, accessible only through long-range teleportation technology or hyperloop travel.
Both are very expensive.
A week ago, the transportation fee alone would’ve emptied his account.
Now, money was no longer the problem.
Dylan looked toward the distant skyline.
A quiet smile spread across his face.
“…Looks like it’s finally time.”
He adjusted the strap across his shoulder and disappeared into the endless streets of New California, his destination now set upon Aurora Isle.