People call it a black market for a reason. It's the place where all the stuff that shouldn't see daylight gets traded, often hidden away in damp basements or shadowed alleys. It has its perks and flaws. Most goods are secondhand, everything is done through old-fashioned bartering, and sometimes you will see someone clearing out their leftover stock in a desperate bid for survival.
Still, the black market has plenty of good things. The variety is wild, and you can pretty much find whatever you are looking for if you have the patience to dig through the grime.
But the high-end market is a whole different beast. Its biggest advantage is that it has things the black market doesn't. Everything sold here has a traceable code. Every item is officially logged through big data, recognized by the state, and legally approved for sale. There's even after-sales service, a luxury unheard of in the lawless corners of the city.
The biggest difference, though, is the origin of the stock. Most of the goods here were produced after Earth's Dark Days, manufactured in the new state-run factories.
Which means everything is pricey. Painfully pricey.
But there's another saying that fits perfectly here. Expensive things have no flaws except being expensive. Jing Shu hoped today would go well enough to satisfy her needs.
"Why didn't you bring your sister so she could broaden her horizons?" Jing Shu asked Tank as they walked.
Tank scratched his head and grinned, his expression sheepish. "I already told her I would bring her something good to eat later. She won't come stir up trouble. If she did, she would only get jealous of all the things she can't have yet. Besides, we are here to help you."
He puffed out his chest, trying his best to look like a proper bodyguard. Today's task was simple for him. He was here as muscle to carry the heavy loads, even though he knew her strength totally crushed his.
The high-end market's official name is the Eighth-Floor Trading Hall. It's far classier than the remote, dusty corners where the black market squats. This place stands proud in the heart of the capital, a massive structure of cold stone and reinforced glass. It even has a bus stop named after it. From far away, you can already see the towering, ancient-styled building rising into the dark sky, its silhouette imposing and sharp.
"Holy shit," Jing Shu whispered, looking up at the architecture.
"Of course. Before the apocalypse, the entire eighth floor used to light up at night. It was gorgeous, like a beacon. Now they don't even dare turn the lights on," Tank said, a note of pride in his voice.
Right at the entrance, a staff member led them through a side door and into an adjacent building.
Jing Shu lowered her voice, the sound muffled by the heavy fabric of her collar. "What is going on? Aren't we supposed to enter the Trading Hall?"
It was her first time here and she had zero experience, so she didn't dare speak loudly in the quiet corridor.
Tank lowered his voice too, leaning closer to her. "You can't just walk into the Trading Hall. Whether you are new or old, you have got to register your assets here first and exchange them for trading coins. And new customers like us need to be evaluated. You have to have assets worth more than ten million virtual coins and be carrying goods worth at least one million. Only then can you enter."
"You can just wait in line here. Follow the instructions later. I will go guide the next group," the staff member said. She was wrapped in a big, quilted cotton coat that made her look quite bulky, and she walked off right away toward the next set of visitors.
Tank whispered that before the apocalypse, these workers all wore sharp black suits and moved with a certain grace. But in the apocalypse, clothes ran out, production slowed, and the weather stayed freezing. Now everyone wears whatever is practical and warm.
There were quite a lot of people coming to the Trading Hall today. The registration area had three windows in total. Each window was sealed behind a private partition, ensuring security and discretion for the traders. Everyone had to exchange their items for trading coins here first, much like going to a casino and exchanging cash for chips. If you didn't spend anything, you simply turned them back in when you left.
As soon as they stepped into the hall, Jing Shu noticed a massive screen flickering with the current price list. Tank whispered that the prices were set according to national regulations and floated daily based on market conditions. It determined roughly how much each type of material could be exchanged for.
The people in the hall were orderly, dressed in clean but worn clothing. Everyone spoke in hushed tones. Some sat alone on the benches, while others gathered in small, quiet groups. Jing Shu didn't stand out at all in the crowd.
Before long, it's her turn. She stepped up to the window and handed over her identity QR code. The woman behind the glass yawned, her eyes tired and bloodshot, and began her routine checks. She started recording everything into an electronic form, her fingers clicking rhythmically on the keys. With big data, everyone's information, transactions, and assets were no longer a secret.
[Jing Shu, permanent address Wu City,]
[Occupation: confidential,]
[Assets: confidential,]
[Transaction system: confidential, confidential, confidential.]
The woman suddenly stopped yawning. She rubbed her eyes, leaning forward until her nose almost touched the screen. She blinked several times, then shouted toward the back office, "Director, we have got a high-level confidential profile here. I don't have the clearance to access it. Can you check?"
Jing Shu frowned, her heart sinking slightly. Then she remembered the recent changes to her status. "Damn it." Her profile had been upgraded to a higher confidentiality level. She had always felt it was convenient for staying under the radar, but right now it felt like a huge hassle.
The director arrived quickly, his footsteps echoing on the polished floor. He entered his work ID with a calm, practiced air. After all, in the capital, you could throw a brick and hit someone ranked Fourth Grade or above. It was totally normal to see high-ranking officials.
But a moment later, even the director couldn't stay calm. His eyebrows shot up, and he hurriedly called out into the hallway, "Supervisor, we have an extremely high-level confidential profile here."
Jing Shu stood in silence, feeling the weight of the stares from the other windows. Tank stared at her too, his jaw slightly slack. "Mirror, what kind of level are you? The director here can check almost everyone in the capital."
Jing Shu was speechless. Her information confidentiality level had been secretly bumped up again by Jin Tianci. She had only found out recently after the seed incident. She understood his intentions. He didn't want anyone finding out about her factories or her production capabilities. After all, she was basically a hen that laid golden eggs, and she needed protection.
The supervisor soon arrived. He was short, chubby, and wore thick glasses. Strangely enough, he actually had on a black suit that looked well-maintained despite its age. He looked quite spirited, and his smile was warm as he jogged over. "It's fine, it's fine. Let me take a look. You are Jing Shu, right? I'm the Trading Hall's supervisor. Just call me Xiao Wang."
He didn't look surprised at all. He even offered a reassuring nod. "Don't worry. We only check your credit and transaction history. We won't access anything we shouldn't. Everything we view leaves a record. Your information won't be exposed. I promise."
If he had to personally step in, then whoever stood here must be someone extremely special.
Jing Shu felt a bit awkward. Her security level was high, but she had zero actual power in the capital's hierarchy. It was just an empty title for safety.
The supervisor started typing like crazy, his fingers moving across the keyboard in a blur. After two minutes of frantic clicking, he wiped the sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief and hurried out of the booth.
Just as Jing Shu wondered what was happening, a loud announcement echoed through the room.
"Everyone in line, please move to Windows No. 1 and No. 2. Window No. 3 will need more time."
That had literally never happened before in the history of the hall.
"What kind of case is this? Lao Wang, even you couldn't finish it?" someone teased from the side, a regular trader leaning against a pillar.
Supervisor Wang pointed at the private booth where Jing Shu stood. "The person inside has a very high status. I don't have the clearance either. Everyone, be polite."