Chapter 189: The Wager
Iron Fortress, District East-3, a street corner at dawn.
The sun was sliced into fragmented light spots by towering buildings, spilling onto the road. This was one of the liveliest areas of Iron Fortress, yet there remained several inconspicuous alleys, shrouded in shadow year-round.
Skele-Avarice stood at the entrance of one such alley. He wore a tattered gray cloak, the hood pulled low, covering his skull almost entirely. On the wooden crate before him sat several unremarkable little vials. The liquids inside were of varying colors—some clear, some murky, others bubbling faintly.
This is absolutely the stupidest decision I've ever made in my long, undead life, Avarice grumbled to himself.
A few hours ago, Avarice had been in his laboratory, researching a breakthrough for his project. Then, the lab door was kicked open by Skele-Lust. She carried a crystal vial containing a pale purple liquid.
"Avarice, I made something interesting."
Avarice turned, sighing at the General, whose personality had become increasingly erratic since she began managing the Jade Territory alone. "General Lust, according to the Imperial Material Management Regulations, damaging public property requires compensation at market value and a handwritten self-reflection report of no less than three thousand words."
"Oh, minor details, minor details." Lust shook the vial, wearing a smile that made Avarice feel uneasy. "Look at this interesting thing I made."
Avarice took the vial and began to observe it. As the Deputy Commander of the Arcane Legion, his instinct caused him to immediately analyze the composition of the potion. "A delayed life-inhibitor?"
Lust leaned against the laboratory bench, twirling a strand of her hair. "Weren't you researching how to let the undead retain memories from their previous lives? I did some casual research recently; although I failed to achieve that, I ended up with this byproduct. After drinking it, there's no reaction at all. But one month later, the subject will suddenly enter a state of suspended animation. Heartbeat stops, breathing stops, body temperature drops—even soul fluctuations will drop to their lowest. The state lasts about three days. After three days, they wake up automatically with no lingering side effects."
Avarice froze. He looked up, his soulfire pulsing violently. "Why would you make something like this?"
"For fun." Lust shrugged, her reason so simple it was impossible to refute.
Avarice retorted, "Think about it. If you feed this to an enemy, they'll suddenly drop dead a month later with no discernible cause. Once they're buried and at peace, you deal the final blow. Isn't that the perfect murder tool? If this stuff falls into the hands of those humans, you'll be waiting for the Sovereign's punishment."
Lust jumped off the bench and walked over to Avarice. "Let's make a bet then."
"Bet what?"
"You take this potion and sell it on the streets of Iron Fortress. I bet you'll be reported to Skele-Pride before you even manage to sell it. As for you, you bet that someone will buy it and take it to commit murder."
Avarice's soulfire flickered. He truly believed someone would. "What's the wager?"
"The loser must fulfill one request for the winner. Any request." Lust's smile held a hint of cunning. "Well? Do you dare to bet?"
Avarice hesitated for a few seconds. Then, he took the pale purple vial. "A bet it is."
Thus, the current scene unfolded. Avarice stood in the shadows of the alley like a third-rate black-market merchant, waiting for his first customer. He had been standing there for nearly half an hour. Most passersby cast a cursory glance before quickening their pace. After all, in a place like Iron Fortress, a suspicious figure in a cloak hardly looked like a legitimate businessman.
I shouldn't have agreed to this. I'm a Lich; why am I competing with a General? If I get caught, whether I win or lose the bet, the Sovereign will punish me. Avarice complained internally. He was already thinking about packing up and running, suspecting Lust had played him.
Just then, a figure appeared at the alley entrance. It was a middle-aged man, gaunt, with a gloomy expression on his face. His eyes darted around constantly, as if checking that no one noticed him. He walked briskly into the alley and approached Avarice.
"You... what do you sell here?" The man's voice was low, laced with nervousness.
Avarice's soulfire flickered. It's time. He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound more mysterious. "Just look around. Everything is very cheap."
The man's gaze fell on the vials on the crate. He reached out and picked up a bottle filled with a transparent liquid, holding it up to examine. "What is this?"
"A stamina-enhancing potion," Avarice concocted a reason on the spot. "After drinking it, you can work for three days and three nights without feeling tired."
The man frowned and put the bottle back. He picked up another, filled with green liquid. "And this?"
"A knockoff healing potion," Avarice continued to lie through his teeth. "The effect isn't as good as genuine diluted Emerald's Respite, but it costs only a twentieth of the price."
The man inspected it for a moment, shook his head, and put it back. His gaze swept over the crate, finally stopping at the crystal vial filled with pale purple liquid.
"This..." The man reached out, but hesitated, not picking it up. "What is this?"
Avarice's soulfire pulsed violently. He took a deep breath and lowered his voice. "This... is a good thing." He paused deliberately to build a mysterious atmosphere. "After drinking it, there's no reaction, but one month later..."
A flash of eagerness appeared in the man's eyes. "What happens a month later?"
Avarice's voice dropped to a whisper. "Heartbeat stops, breathing stops, body temperature drops. Anyone who sees them will think they died of natural causes. Because as soon as this potion is drunk, regardless of who it is, their lifespan is fixed to exactly one month."
The man's expression shifted to one of joyful surprise. His breathing quickened, his eyes fixed dead on the crystal vial. "You... you're telling the truth?"
"Of course I am," Avarice put on a mask of normalcy. "I never lie."
The man went silent. His fingers trembled, as if he were undergoing some intense internal struggle. After a long while, he finally spoke. "How much?"
Avarice's soulfire nearly leaped out of his eye sockets. He won! Lust lost! Avarice tried his best to suppress his excitement, feigning indifference. "Not expensive. One gold coin."
"One gold coin?!" The man's voice rose sharply, drawing side-eyes from a few passersby. He immediately realized his mistake and lowered his voice. "Too expensive! I... I don't have that much money!"
Avarice was silent for a few seconds. He calculated rapidly. If he gave up now, it was an admission of defeat to Lust. But if he lowered the price... Whatever. This potion wasn't meant to be sold for profit anyway. "Forget it, forget it. It wasn't going to sell anyway. Fine, I'll take whatever you have on you."
The man gritted his teeth. "Deal." He pulled a coin pouch from his chest, trembling as he counted out five silver coins and placed them on the crate. Then, he carefully picked up the crystal vial and hid it inside his chest.
"Remember," Avarice said suddenly, just before the man turned to leave. "It won't take effect until a month later. Don't be impatient."
The man nodded and hurried out of the alley. Avarice watched the man's disappearing back, his soulfire dancing happily in his eye sockets.
"Let me see what kind of monstrous things you're going to do!"
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