Patrick Laplante
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PU Book 3 - Chapter 74: Target
🕑 Added 2024-10-26 00:26:51 +0000 UTC
“So, give me the rundown,” Sorin said to Tiffany. “Who’s in the slave business in the Undercity. Where do they obtain their slaves? How do they make sure they aren’t tracked down?”
Tiffany let out a light laugh. “I doubt I could obtain most of that information, though I do know where the most recent batch of slaves was acquired.” She pointed up to the ceiling. “Olympia, naturally. The rifts and the incursion of myths and Agents has led to quite a few ‘deaths’ and disappearances. They’re typically undesirables or people that the powers that be would rather not deal with.”
“There are a total of thirteen sellers on the market. They all specialize in different goods. There are mortals who are sold wholesale, professionals at various levels, and of course, warriors. Myths as well. There used to be someone who sold those with strong bloodlines, the Arma Clan, but they got wiped out a while back. Their replacement decided to go in a different direction and nurture high-level courtesans that specialize in infiltration.
“Anything tickle your fancy?”
Sorin thought a moment before answering. “Flesh-Sanctification cultivators are what we’re looking for. The stronger, the better. Ideally, I’d like them to be middle sanctification or higher.” It was only these people that would be of practical use for the Kepler Clan’s current experiments, assuming they were still ongoing. Even if they weren’t, the suppliers likely shared a connection with the Arma Clan and would be Sorin’s best lead.”
“Then you can only buy from the Golden Circle, the leader of these thirteen groups,” said Tiffany. “They only sell via auction, and the next auction is in six days. There’s an especially large number of slaves for sale this time around. This bodes well for your odds of purchasing slaves for a reasonable price.”
Sorin looked to Gareth, who ultimately nodded. “Then we’ll find a place to stay. I’m sure you’ll be able to figure out where. Get us a private room at the auction and come find us then..”
“The fee is one divine crystal,” said the agent, holding out her hand.
Sorin placed one of the many crystals he’d brought along for the trip and dismissed her. “We’ll look around a bit longer before finding an inn.
Tiffany vanished, and Sorin and company continued touring the Inner City, taking special care to linger in more crowded areas where Sorin took the opportunity to lightly poison everyone present.
They also visited one of the flesh-traders to verify Tiffany’s information packet. Hanz and Grett Staffing dealt in medium-grade goods and was one of the few traders who sold myths alongside humans.
Even Sorin, corrupted as he was, had half a mind to melt the place down. Their best ‘merchandise’ was chained to posts, while their less popular items were prettied up and predated. Collars, restrictive earrings, and even covert tattoos were used to control these people. It was evident from their glazed eyes that they’d been through hell.
“This entire place needs to burn to the ground,” said Lawrence as they left the building.
“Agreed,” said Sorin. “But not now. Later. Also, I took the time to mark everyone in the building. As long as they leave the Undercity within the next half year, I’ll be able to sniff them out.”
After visiting the first slave market, Sorin and company hit all the other slave markets to lay similar marks. Sorin’s poisons and spiritual senses were such that detecting his poisons was all but impossible. It would take at least a peak three-star physician to be able to detect these poisons after they took root, and only if these physicians had received special training and knew what they were looking for.
For similar reasons, Sorin took a risk and visited the Hyde Clan’s many shops. He paid special attention to the corpse manufacturers when it became clear that some of the ‘corpses’ being utilized had actually been alive during the refinement process.
After that, Sorin made sure to shake the hand of every member of the Hyde Clan he encountered and any subsidiary members that reported to them. When the day of judgement came, not a single one of them would be spared.
It was late in the evening when they finally decided on the inn they would be staying at, the Fool’s Escape. Familiar scents wafted through the air as they checked into a single room for safety.
“Anyone up for some late dinner?” asked Sorin as they finished their checks and determined that no one had followed them.”
“How can you be in any mood to eat?” asked Gareth. There was a tired look in his eyes. “I just don’t know if I can keep doing this, Sorin. It goes against everything I’ve ever been taught.”
“It’s for the bigger picture,” comforted Sorin.
“Yes, it’s always about the bigger picture, isn’t it?” grumbled Gareth. “I’m tired. Wake me up in the morning.”
“How about you, Lawrence?” asked Sorin.
Lawrence shrugged. “I ate plenty of street food. And I have to agree with Gareth. This place is off-putting.” Unfortunately, Sorin’s spiritual senses ensured that his vision wasn’t lacking compared to Lawrences. It would take a twisted kind of person to not be repulsed by everything they’d seen.
Since neither of them were hungry, and Sorin and Lorimer were usually famished, they went downstairs to inquire with the innkeeper.
The innkeeper that had greeted them was nowhere to be found. Neither were the clients they’d seen lingering in the room upon their arrival just a half hour prior.
Finding no servers or bartenders to assist them, Sorin patted Lorimer’s head and made his way to the kitchen, the only light source in the dark common room. Yet as he took his first steps, Sorin’s instincts went into overdrive. They warned him against approaching the back room. His karmic vision activated against his will.
A tangle of white threads exploded from the kitchen. There were tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of links to powerful individuals.
“Come on in, Sorin Abberjay Kepler,” said a melodic voice form the kitchen. A chill washed over Sorin as he realised his identity had been compromised. “I said come in.”
Sorin’s feet were moving before he could stop them. When he tried to turn back, a wave of energy blasted him through the door and plopped him down onto the ground.
The kitchen appeared normal. Strangely so.
Inside the kitchen, a woman hummed as she stirred a cauldron.
“I’d offer you some Good Fortune Soup, but it seems that would be a waste of time,” said the youthful witch with white hair. She looked up form her cauldron and stared Sorin down with piercing blue eyes. “You’re confused. You’re stumbling forward without any idea of what you’re doing. An ancient soul has halfway taken over your body, yet you remain ignorant.
“Which leads to my question, Sorin Abberjay Kepler: What gave you the confidence to come down to the Undercity when even someone like me can only step lightly?”
Frowning, but very certain that the woman meant him no harm, Sorin took a seat by the kitchen counter. “You’re not Madeline Trousseau,” said Sorin. “Madeline Trousseau was a three-star gourmet, a retired adventurer who was too lazy to look after her own business.”
“Oh?” asked the witch. “Then who am I?”
“You’re a karmic whirlpool,” answered Sorin. “You bear hundreds of thousands of karmic connections and somehow cause them to spin however you fancy.”
Madeline smiled as she continued stirring her cauldron. It smelled of… fish. Some sort of seafood? Sorin was hungry, and the soup made his stomach rumble. “What you saw was only the tip of the iceberg, Sorin. If you’re curious about my identity, you’ll have to do much better than that.
“Just be careful how far you look. Some things are simply beyond mortal understanding.
