Lucian seemed to be asking the Evernight Goddess, but also the indescribable existence above the starry sky.
Suppressing the unyielding resentment in his heart, he did not let himself surrender merely because the other party was the Ring of Fate. That final trace of light proved he was not alone.
Although uncertain about that beam of light's intention, at least the other party had helped him escape danger once. In this crazy and despairing world, judging by deeds rather than intentions was the best choice.
Moreover, if the Ring of Fate truly wanted to descend using his body, it would have to wait until he advanced to Sequence One. Otherwise, Lucian's body couldn't bear a complete Old One! This period of time was exactly his opportunity to accumulate strength—his only chance!
He sat thinking for an unknown length of time, countless plans flashing through Lucian's mind, only to be rejected one after another.
Only Old Ones could fight Old Ones, and those with hope of becoming Old Ones were so few they could be counted on one's fingers.
The Dark Goddess, Adam, Klein, then perhaps the Steam God and Lilith to make up the numbers. Among them, Klein was easiest to win over and Adam the hardest. So after going full circle, he still returned to Klein!
Had He foreseen this result long ago, and thus given Lucian the biography of Zhou Mingrui? Lucian recalled how not long ago he had firmly vowed to rely on only himself, yet here he was again, thinking about forming alliances.
The air quality in Backlund was extremely poor. Each breath carried an illusion of slicing one's throat—though this was limited to the slum areas.
The chaos of the slums provided the best cover for grey industries. Many unofficial Beyonders came here to sell stolen goods.
The Church of the Evernight Goddess had previously asked whether he was willing to join them, revealing their intention not to interfere with his choice of Beyonder pathway.
In his loneliness, he didn't think long before gladly agreeing. After all, what the Evernight Goddess valued was his future, while what he needed was the present. Without the present, what future could there be?
Reportedly, the church was preparing to transfer him to Tingen City to serve as a probationary bishop, provided he became a Beyonder within one month.
Bishop Electra of the Church of the Evernight Goddess had faintly hinted that as long as he became a Beyonder, the requirements would be satisfied—whether or not it was a Beyonder pathway possessed by the Church didn't matter.
This seemed to be the will of the Evernight Goddess. Otherwise, by custom, the bishop should have given him a Night pathway Sequence Nine potion, or at worst, a potion formula.
Actually, Lucian wished for this. If forced to advance as a Sleepless, then to eventually become a god, he would definitely choose to betray the Evernight Goddess.
Backlund's slum presented a unique scene. The great smog event had not yet happened, and busy figures filled the simple streets everywhere.
The smell of sweat mixed with cheap alcohol wafted from a nearby tavern. As the sky gradually dimmed, more and more people flowed into the tavern.
Lucian found a corner to sit in. He didn't go directly to the Beyonder trading location, as he was still just an ordinary person who had not come into contact with Beyonder power.
Not long after, a tall, stubble-faced middle-aged man shouted at Lucian.
The middle-aged man's voice was bold, his tone carrying a hint of drunkenness.
"Hey kid over there, want a glass of beer?"
"I want a glass of five-pence beer. The fermentation time must be more than half a year," Lucian replied according to the agreed code. In this part of town, such dialogue was very common.
"Really troublesome. Come with me to the wine cellar to choose," the man said with impatience in his tone.
The two bypassed a crowd of drinkers and descended a spiral staircase to the tavern's basement. The noisy sounds from the first floor gradually quieted, and even the air became thinner.
"It's just inside. Don't forget the introduction fee," the man said, his previous drunkenness swept away, replaced by a fierce expression.
"This is for you. One gold pound," Lucian said, his face showing reluctance to part with the money. Finally, he clenched his teeth and quickly handed the coin to the man.
The middle-aged man weighed the coin in his hand, and his expression suddenly warmed.
"I'm called Raul Diane. If you need anything else, you can find me at the tavern after seven in the evening."
Raul left the basement humming a happy tune, thinking to himself that the young man probably had no more money to seek his help again. The painful expression over one pound showed he was likely just a slightly wealthy ordinary person with no significant background. Perhaps he could sell this information to some gangsters. Lucian didn't know that his disguise not only failed to deceive the other party but actually made himself a target.
He took out a cloak from his pocket and put it on, covering his distinctive appearance, then pushed open the old wooden door to enter the trading place.
"I need a Sequence Nine potion formula. Any pathway will do."
Just as Lucian entered the small room, he heard someone who looked female raise a trade request. He instinctively remained silent, retreating to an unobtrusive corner.
Everyone in the small room was silent for a moment before a male with a hoarse voice finally spoke.
"I have a Sequence Nine 'Secret Prayers' potion formula here. The price is two hundred pounds, non-negotiable."
Secret Prayers was Sequence Nine of the Hanged Man pathway, an extremely dangerous pathway because its Sequence Zero had already gone mad!
Once, the man closest to the True Sun had died from betrayal. His humanity, combined with extreme negative emotions, had revived in his corpse and inherited all of the Hanged Man pathway. He was called the True Creator!
At the end of the Fourth Epoch, he was blocked in the Land Abandoned by God by the current Seven True Gods. Since then, He had lost his anchor and sanity, falling to become one of the evil gods.
The woman agreed to the trade without much thought. For her, becoming a Beyonder was apparently most important.
The two completed the transaction under the witness of a white-bearded old man and signed a series of contracts.
Lucian's gaze also fell on the elder in front of him.
There was nothing strange about the old man's appearance. He had long, wavy hair and several obvious wrinkles crowding his face. His body showed not a trace of mysterious fluctuation, as if he weren't a Beyonder at all.
Soon after, Lucian's attention was drawn to an advertisement on the wall:
"Affected by seasonal change, commission to sell a batch of hummingbirds, types complete. Interested parties contact and go to No. 4 Lanter Street to find Slant Reina."
Bronze hummingbirds weren't considered rare among hummingbird species. Since this Slant had posted a "types complete" label on the bulletin, he should be able to find bronze hummingbirds from him.
Lucian silently memorized the address, then was drawn to the next trader's accent.
This trader's accent was very strange, obviously not from Backlund, perhaps not even from Loen.
"I need a Beyonder weapon. Its power must be great, usable by ordinary people, and must be guaranteed usable for more than one year."
The room again fell into silence. When most people thought the trade would fail, a thin man weakly spoke up.
"I have a shotgun that meets your conditions. It can still be used for two years. Anyone hit by this shotgun will rapidly lose all blood and become a dried corpse! But the side effects are severe—each use will draw your own blood, and after three uses, you'll die from blood loss. Also, when using it, you cannot directly contact any living creature, or it will misfire! The price is no lower than five hundred pounds, but you can offset some of the difference with items I consider valuable."
Though the shotgun's side effects were severe, it was indeed a very good weapon. The five hundred pound price seemed somewhat low, and Lucian quickly saw the truth.
How could the shotgun's owner not know its true worth? But he had already used it twice. The next time would likely mean perishing together with his enemy, so the gun no longer held value for him.
The non-Loen trader obviously wanted this weapon but was visibly annoyed, seemingly short on funds.
"I only have three hundred pounds here, but I also have some rare items uncommon in Loen."
He took out a small backpack containing various herbs and animal corpses.
Lucian shifted his gaze to the backpack and quickly found the main material he wanted for his potion.
The Passenger's potion formula required a black-eyed chameleon. This special chameleon was only found in forests within Feysac territory. They weren't exactly rare, but most people weren't interested in them, making them uncommon in the Loen market.
"I offer ten pounds for that black-eyed chameleon. I'm somewhat interested—it seems like it could be made into a specimen," Lucian said, offering an extremely low price. According to his knowledge, this type of chameleon wasn't used in other potion formulas, or it wouldn't have been casually thrown into a corner.
"These chameleons aren't sold separately. Ten per group, one hundred pounds," the man replied, refusing Lucian's offer. Instead, he intended to bundle the chameleons and sell them all to Lucian, seeing him as a big spender after his ten-pound offer!
If people in Feysac territory knew Loen's wealthy were willing to pay such a high price, it would likely stir up a hunting frenzy.
One hundred pounds for ten black-eyed chameleons was incredibly cheap for a Sequence Nine potion's main ingredient—unbelievably so.
Actually, before the Passenger potion appeared in this world, ten pounds per chameleon would have been absurdly high.
After all, this kind of lizard wasn't considered a precious magical material, and its uses were very limited.
Although Lucian could accept the price of one hundred pounds for ten lizards, he had to maintain his act. Otherwise, others might see through his disguise.
"I don't want that many—five at most. I won't waste money on unnecessary items," Lucian said, using silence to pressure the seller.
"Deal!" the man quickly agreed, seeing Lucian's hesitation and worrying he might back out entirely. In truth, if Lucian had insisted on buying just one, the man would have agreed without hesitation. After all, these were just casually collected when he passed through Feysac.
The non-Loen gentleman, after selling a large number of novelty trinkets, finally gathered enough gold pounds to acquire the Beyonder item he wanted.
And Lucian obtained the promotion material he needed. It was a trade that satisfied all three parties.
The atmosphere of the trading gathering was greatly encouraged by their trade. Following that, all sorts of Beyonder items emerged endlessly.
This place was truly worthy of being Backlund. The majority of Loen's wealthy and various forces chose to take root and develop in this area.
"I have three special charms here, each with different effects: one stops bleeding and heals wounds, one shoots scorching flames, and one ensures a wonderful night. Three charms as one set, selling price one hundred twenty pounds. I believe this is a very fair price!"
"As for why? I can promise that the third charm contains mummy powder."
The speaker was a slightly fat middle-aged man who didn't cover his face. He had only a few fine yellow hairs hanging from the top of his head, and small eyes squeezed into the middle of his face, which was full of excess fat.
Lucian recognized him. The man's public identity was that of a doctor in this area. Rumor had it that the medicine he had researched once caused a buying frenzy among the wealthy in the upper district.
Since entering the trading place, this slightly fat man had been standing beside the elder hosting the trade, his eyes closed. Only when offering a trade would he open his refined-looking eyes.
"I offer one hundred fifty pounds. Can you give me two charms with mummy powder separately?" someone asked.
One hundred twenty pounds for three ordinary charms seemed extravagant, but when the charms contained the famous mummy powder, the price seemed extremely cheap.
Before the fat apothecary could speak, Lucian jumped in: "I offer one hundred twenty pounds for one set!"
His goal differed from the others. What he really wanted were the healing and attack charms that held little attraction for others.
After Lucian spoke, the slightly displeased apothecary barely managed to straighten his gloomy face. He now suspected whether these people's ears automatically ignored certain words.
He had clearly stated that his charms were bundled as one set, not sold separately!
Fortunately, there was now a trader whose ears still functioned, which improved his mood considerably.
"You're the first to buy a complete set of charms. I'll give you a huge discount as a reward for respecting my words. You only need to pay me one gold pound."
The slightly fat middle-aged man suddenly wanted to irritate those traders who had ignored him, so he casually sold the charms to Lucian at a nearly free price.
Right after the man spoke, Lucian felt the gazes around him become solid.
Almost everyone shifted their gaze to him—some envious, some pitying, but most filled with thick jealousy.
The slightly fat middle-aged man also seemed to realize his action had placed Lucian in a bad situation.
He naturally knew what kind of people these traders were. While they wouldn't dare rob someone in front of the elder, once outside the tavern, all bets were off.
He also knew very well that these people originally didn't like him, and today they just happened to find a reason.
Things had already reached this point, and he had no way to eliminate the others' hatred toward Lucian. He could only try other methods to remedy the situation.
"You can call me Fat Pharmacist Shet. If you need any charms, I can sell them to you at a low price."
To be honest, he wasn't lacking money. Coming here to sell charms was just to better distribute his potions, just like the elder.
"I need healing and attack charms. Do you have any more in stock?" Lucian asked.
Lucian didn't mind at all that the fat pharmacist had attracted so much hatred toward him. The fat pharmacist had given him a set of charms at an extremely low price, which was only beneficial to him.
Moreover, even if the fat pharmacist hadn't said those words, would this group of jealous people really not have had opinions about him?
Wasn't it just that this group saw him as an ordinary person easy to bully? If he were a high-Sequence Beyonder, they probably wouldn't dare show even a bit of dissatisfaction.
However, the fat pharmacist had obviously taken the blame upon himself and wanted to compensate Lucian a bit. Lucian had no reason to refuse.
"Of course I have them. For these charms, pay one gold pound and take them all," the fat pharmacist said.
He felt that Lucian choosing attack and healing charms at this time was surely to prevent being killed and robbed.
His conscience was uneasy, obviously embarrassed to take Lucian's money, but for the sake of appearances, he still chose to accept one gold pound as a token.
"This is a Sun Charm I obtained by chance. When used, it emits a brilliant beam of light with extremely strong damage against ghost-type creatures."
The fat pharmacist carefully packed the charms and handed them to Lucian. Lucian did not pretend to be modest, only sighing inwardly: "The fat pharmacist really is a good person."
Although in this world, good people rarely met good ends. In the future, when he had the ability, he wouldn't mind helping this Fat Pharmacist Shet a little.
The fat pharmacist showing goodwill toward Lucian made others even more jealous, especially when he packed many charms and gave them to Lucian.
Jealousy was jealousy, but the majority remained rational. They had already heard about the power of those charms and knew they weren't worth risking one's life for worldly possessions.
Rationality accompanied by madness—those whose minds differed slightly from ordinary people never considered consequences.
Just like this time's trader Frank. Everything he now owned was built on a foundation of killing, burning, and robbing.
He most enjoyed giving death to his target when the target felt proud over something. Of course, this was just his hobby—his real goal remained the target's inheritance.
Others might fear the fat pharmacist, but Frank was different. At worst, he would finish this job and then leave this damn place.
The fat pharmacist's influence was limited to this slum area. As long as he left Backlund, with the charm's assistance, he could establish his own force elsewhere. He didn't believe the other party could find his next foothold.
The following trades still proceeded in order, but people with sharp eyes could all see the atmosphere gradually becoming tense.
Beneath the peaceful trading session, dark currents were surging. Everyone had their own thoughts, and beneath each mask, no one could see clearly.
In the next round of trades, Lucian chose only to observe—not to maintain a low profile, but because he truly did not find any items he wanted.
Time passed...
"This session's trading meeting ends here. All people please leave in order by number," announced the elder with his extremely subtle presence, sweeping all people once with cloudy eyes, not caring about their complicated and regretful emotions.
"You leave first," the elder pointed at Lucian and calmly spoke.
Lucian glanced at the fat pharmacist beside the elder, thought for a moment, and then understood the cause and effect.
He bowed slightly to the elder, then quickly left the tavern's underground space.
Though the fat pharmacist's charms gave him some confidence, he wasn't foolish enough to approach danger.