Night had fallen over the city. Neon lights reflected off the rain-soaked streets, giving everything an ambiguous, almost seductive glow. Ethan wrapped his coat tighter, moving with measured steps, yet every sense on high alert. The warning of the archive's custodian still echoed in his mind:"Nightmare energy isn't something confined to battlefields. Some people… treat it as a business."
The words had lingered in his thoughts for days, and today, they finally had a clear direction.
The Bureau's intelligence division had traced a faint signal to the city's lower district—a disused subway tunnel. Originally a massive wartime construction, it was now occupied by gray-market traders, a secret black market unknown to most.
—A black market for nightmare energy.
Ethan and his partner Karl donned inconspicuous clothing and blended into the crowd. The entrance was marked by two rusty iron doors, scrawled with crude symbols, as if meant to ward off evil. Beyond the doors stretched a cold, dark tunnel.
"Do you smell that?" Karl murmured, brow furrowed.
Ethan nodded. The air carried a sweet, metallic tang—not blood, yet more unsettling than it. His mind immediately drew a connection to the nightmare residue he had encountered in the Phantom Realm.
Voices echoed from deep within the tunnel, lively and mingled. When they finally stepped into the main hall, Ethan froze for a moment.
It was a vast underground market, stalls stretching in neat rows. No sunlight reached here, only dim sodium lamps and flickering fire-like lighting. People moved between the booths, whispering, eyes glinting. Unlike ordinary black markets, everything sold here carried an unmistakable supernatural aura.
Bottles of black mist, sealed in special glass containers, glowed faintly. The mist swirled as if whispering secrets from within.
"This is… condensed nightmare energy," Karl muttered, his Adam's apple bobbing as he stared at the bottles.
"Looks like a potion… or a bomb," Ethan joked, forcing a chuckle to mask the chill crawling up his spine. "If someone lights one of these, do you think the whole tunnel will turn into a nightmare carnival?"
Karl didn't smile. His gaze grew heavier.
They passed several stalls, witnessing even more disturbing transactions. Some sold limbs from nightmare creatures—black claws sealed in crystal boxes. Others offered "host remnants," claiming consumption would grant unique powers. Old scrolls and documents detailed experimental data on nightmare parasites.
A hooded vendor approached them, speaking in a low voice:"First time here? Want to try? Nightmare energy enhances willpower. You won't die in dreams. Much more effective than the Bureau's crappy gear."
Ethan raised an eyebrow, smiling carelessly:"Sounds tempting. But I'm a picky eater—if it upsets my stomach, that's on you."
The vendor scrutinized them, apparently unconvinced they were ordinary buyers. He snorted coldly and walked away.
Karl's voice dropped to a whisper:"They're already weaponizing nightmare energy… which means reality itself can be tainted, not just the dreamscape."
Ethan shrugged lightly."One of humanity's specialties is turning anything dangerous into a commodity. Gunpowder, atomic energy… now it's nightmare energy's turn."
His tone was casual, but his eyes were alert.
A commotion erupted from deeper in the market. Several black-clad men dragged a young man out of the crowd. He struggled, shouting:"I didn't! I'm not a host! I haven't absorbed nightmare energy—"
Before he could finish, he was slammed to the ground, a glass vial shoved into his mouth. Black mist instantly poured down his throat. His body convulsed violently; in seconds, his eyes turned pitch black, veins bulged, and his form twisted into a monstrous shape.
The surrounding buyers didn't panic. Instead, a wave of cheers and murmurs swept through the crowd. Some excitedly placed bets; others watched coldly.
Karl's fists clenched, veins standing out. Ethan grabbed his arm, voice low:"Calm down. We're here for intelligence, not to alert everyone."
The creature roared as it was dragged away by chains, displayed as a "product." The black market organizers clearly used such cruel spectacles to entice buyers.
A chill ran through Ethan's chest. Nightmare energy wasn't just a weapon—it was entertainment, a gamble, a commodity. Humanity's darkest desires were intertwining with this otherworldly power.
It was more terrifying than any enemy.
"Karl," Ethan said quietly,"We need to find out who's behind this black market."
Karl's eyes met his, brimming with restrained fury:"If someone inside the Bureau is involved… then what we're facing isn't just the nightmare itself."
Ethan smirked bitterly."All the better. And when the time comes, I'll make sure to buy a vial… just to throw it in the director's office."
Karl glanced at him, knowing he was joking, but the tension didn't ease.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the market, a shadowy figure lurked, quietly observing them.
It was clear he had been waiting for a long time.