"It's unclear. Yesterday, the master called all the major and minor merchant leaders from the trade guild to come to the manor. When they were leaving, I heard them discussing that everyone should help search together. I don't know what they're looking for, but it must be important to mobilize such extensive connections."
Little Eight smiled as he spoke with admiration.
Napoleon listened without responding, his expression somewhat grim.
He walked through the main gate while continuing to ask:
"Have any strange incidents occurred recently?"
"Well... Young master, although Little Eight is fairly well-informed, how could strange incidents happen every day?" Little Eight shrugged helplessly.
"However, regarding that Golden Carp Tavern you frequent—I heard it caught fire last night, burning down half the street beside it. The flames were so bright that even we could see them clearly from this distance. Tsk tsk..."
"A fire..."
Napoleon's heart sank, a suspicion beginning to form.
"Are you talking about the street where cosmetics are usually sold?"
"That's exactly the one!" Little Eight nodded vigorously. "They say many people died—entire families, adults and children alike, all gone.
Truly tragic... No idea which heartless wretch set the fire!"
Fire...
Napoleon said nothing more.
He buried this matter deep in his heart, trying not to think about it.
The Underground Market was scheduled for three days later in the evening, in a cellar outside the city.
During these three days, Napoleon maintained his normal rest and diet routine. He clearly felt his body growing stronger, as if the modifier's enhancement of the Kaer Morhen techniques had also improved his overall physique.
Over the three days, he made another trip to the street near Golden Carp Tavern. Indeed, it was charred black, with many people still busy rebuilding houses.
Napoleon retraced the exact path he had walked that day, finding it identical to what he had seen.
Even that dead-end alley was exactly the same.
His mind was made up, though he felt no panic.
Since this world had undead creatures, naturally there could be other entities as well.
During these three days, he had originally planned to modify the Crushing Force manual he had purchased.
But thinking of the Underground Market, he restrained himself to avoid suffering from blood loss and serious injury again, which might cost him this opportunity.
Time passed quickly.
Soon it was the agreed-upon day.
Around seven or eight o'clock in the evening.
Napoleon changed into black clothing and put on a tiger mask—a crude children's toy mask he had bought randomly from the street.
A Goldwin family carriage was already waiting at Bonaparte Manor's gate.
He hurriedly boarded the carriage to find Marcus sitting inside, gripping a roasted chicken leg in both hands and chomping away enthusiastically.
The fat man also wore black clothing, though whether he wore it or not, anyone could tell from his exaggerated build that this was the Underground Market's host family's young master.
"Here, here! We were just waiting for you. Brother Napoleon, quickly get in the carriage."
Once both were seated, the carriage slowly began moving.
Throughout the journey, Marcus briefed Napoleon on what to do and what not to do once inside.
A whole heap of miscellaneous precautions.
Napoleon memorized them all.
Soon they left the city, following the main road before turning onto smaller paths, winding around for quite a distance until reaching the outskirts.
After traveling in the countryside for a short while, the carriage entered an abandoned small village, stopping in front of a stone house in the village center.
"This is it." Marcus jumped down from the carriage. A black-clothed man guarding the stone house entrance approached and bowed to him respectfully.
"Is everyone here?"
"All present. They've already begun displaying the first auction item."
Marcus nodded and urged quickly:
"We must hurry down—it's already started."
He pulled Napoleon into the stone house, where in the center of the floor was an open wooden door leading to stairs descending underground.
Napoleon followed Marcus and two guards down the stairs to a rather large underground cavern.
The cavern was arranged quite impressively.
A large central hall occupied the middle, surrounded by stone walls lined with private boxes like small pouches hanging from the walls.
The hall seated a sparse gathering of people, while the surrounding boxes showed no candlelight, clearly unused.
"This place has quite a grand layout," Napoleon remarked.
"Hehe, we discovered this place by accident too," the fat man chuckled, leading Napoleon through the back of the hall toward the front row of seats.
The entire Underground Market had only about a dozen participants, all seated scattered in the front rows of the hall.
A tall, thin man with a covered face stood on the platform, loudly introducing the auction item details.
Beside him stood two dwarfs dressed in colorful red and green clothing, holding up a copper tray containing a rust-stained short sword.
"An ancient short sword from the Eastern Kingdom of Kaedwen, very likely a blade forged by the legendary master Durand. It bears ancient Kaedwen script and... Ah! Customer Number Four bids one thousand silver crowns!
Any higher bids? Any higher bids!?"
The man on stage called out enthusiastically, appearing quite passionate.
Napoleon and Marcus sat in the left-side seats.
The seats were arranged in rows made of what appeared to be white stone, cold and lifeless to sit on.
The fat man sat beside him, leaning over to whisper:
"What you want is the fifth item—second to last."
Napoleon nodded without speaking.
That short sword on stage clearly had been recently dug from the ground. Probably obtained through tomb raiding.
Several people below continued bidding, and in just a short while the sword's price rose to eighteen hundred silver crowns.
Hearing this made Napoleon's heart race—this already equaled nearly twice his monthly allowance.
He stopped watching the stage bidding and instead focused his attention on the surrounding customers making offers.
Most Underground Market customers carried weapons, both short and long varieties.
Most wore black clothing, though there were exceptions.
Among the dozen or so customers, three had made no effort at disguise.
One was a red-haired giant with a broad sword on his back, wearing fitted yellow leather armor.
Another was a thin, weak-looking young man with a pointed face and short stature. Two black pouches hung at his waist, bulging with unknown contents.
The third—and most eye-catching—was actually a pair.
A man and woman together.
The man appeared to be a bodyguard, wearing a silver shirt and fitted outfit with a long sword at his waist. His expression was indifferent, showing gentleness only when looking at the woman.
The woman wore a black dress unlike typical medieval women's long gowns.
She wore a form-fitting dress similar to Earth's body-hugging skirts.
Her entire body was covered by a single tight-fitting dress, with the hem barely covering her hips.
Any slightly larger movement or raising of legs would clearly reveal the area between her thighs.
This woman dressed provocatively, yet had long legs and a slender waist, with delicate fair chest and hips stretching her dress to bursting point, as if even the chest portion might tear at any moment.
Napoleon couldn't help but look at this woman's face.
She had a high nose bridge and soft, alluring eyes that seemed to shimmer with water-like light, giving the impression she was always smiling.
Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders, smooth and black with a subtle luster.
"This beats any beauty filter and makeup techniques," Napoleon thought admiringly.
This woman clearly had significant backing. To be so beautiful yet dare show her face openly at the Underground Market—only someone extremely confident in their own power would dare do such a thing.
"That one is Morgana Duskwood," the fat man said, noticing Napoleon's attention and leaning close to whisper.
"But I don't recommend having designs on her—this woman is vicious!"
"Vicious? How so?"
Napoleon showed mild curiosity. He had no romantic interest, just found her conspicuously attention-grabbing, prompting a few extra glances.
The fat man smiled and glanced at the second auction item already beginning on stage.
"Morgana Duskwood arrived in Oxenfurt two months ago, supposedly traveling with a merchant caravan.
Master and servant, just the two of them joining a caravan for such a long journey—that alone is quite remarkable."
"Indeed remarkable," Napoleon nodded.
"Moreover, because of her beauty, she's been quite the seductress since arriving in Oxenfurt. Many handsome young nobles were charmed by her, but guess what happened?"
The fat man shook his head and sighed.
"What happened?"
Napoleon's curiosity was piqued, and he asked along.
"The whole group of young masters were all infatuated to the point of confusion, finally coming together to duel and brawl, seriously injuring many and killing several."
The fat man clicked his tongue.
"Even after being seriously injured or crippled, several still thought fondly of this woman. But she immediately forgot about them completely."
"..." Napoleon squinted, his heart chilling. He had heard about this incident, not realizing this woman was the cause. For those men to remain devoted even after being crippled—this couldn't be explained by mere beauty alone.
He immediately mentally labeled this Morgana Duskwood as extremely dangerous.
A woman who could manipulate so many people had either extraordinarily high emotional intelligence or special methods. Such characters were best avoided.
He focused his attention on the stage auction.
They had already reached the fourth auction item.
It was a brass-colored half-body leather armor.
"This armor, called Frost Tiger Armor, is crafted from the hide of a single massive white tiger from the Frozen Grasslands, comprehensively tanned and layered. Multiple layers of this legendary hide, after tanning, become as thin as a copper coin.
Its resistance to blunt weapons and swords far exceeds ordinary leather armor, almost equivalent to wearing an additional chainmail vest."
The black-clothed presenter loudly introduced the armor.
"Starting bid: two hundred silver crowns!"
The audience remained motionless.
The host was unconcerned and had a dwarf hold up the armor while he drew a short sword and thrust it hard at the armor's edge.
*Thud.*
A muffled sound as the sword slid off, leaving only a small scratch on the armor.
"Three hundred silver crowns!"
Seeing this demonstration, someone immediately began bidding.
"Four hundred silver crowns!"
"Six hundred silver crowns!"
The prices on stage climbed higher and higher. Seeing this armor, Napoleon felt somewhat tempted. Such armor was light and agile, more convenient for movement than metal armor without affecting mobility. If the defense was truly as described, it would indeed be excellent equipment.
He considered bidding, but seeing the price quickly approaching one thousand silver crowns, he forced himself to hold back and abandon the idea. His real objective was the manual coming up next.
He couldn't lose sight of the bigger picture.
The armor was ultimately purchased by the red-haired giant with the broad sword.
Immediately following was the second-to-last item.
A battle energy manual.