Warlock Apprentice

Angor stepped out of Hurricane Shop with his head lowered. He felt his heart bleeding after working so hard for nothing.

It seemed that Irisa wanted to use this “fake” Crimson Crown to fulfill her plans. Angor didn’t care about her plan. This wasn’t because of Sunders’ warning. It was just that, every time he thought about this matter, he just wished to travel back in time and kick his old self’s face for thinking more than what he needed to.

He was determined that from now on, each time he helped someone with a favor, he would make sure to clarify every single detail before getting to it.

An entire month! Well, almost an entire month. 

He could have used the precious time for many better things. Technically speaking, he still learned a lot of extra runes by reading the book thoroughly. Still, he’d prefer that it did not work out in this way.

“Sighhhh.”

…

Cities, whether built by mortals or wizards, always contained darkness and filth somewhere, where shady characters did their business that couldn’t be exposed under broad daylight.

Cork Street was one such place in Floating Mech City.

However, compared to mortal streets controlled by gangs and villains, Cork Street appeared to be more “regular” since those who knew about this place were all wise enough to disregard insignificant profit and avoid unnecessary conflict. And when every customer tried to act as carefully as possible, this black market wasn’t so terrifying as one might expect.

Here, “terrifying” referred to the real danger that got people killed. But even without such an element, Cork Street still looked pretty scary on the outside.

There were mortals scattered about the entire Floating Mech City. But not here.

Angor stepped into the particularly dark territory and frowned. The streets were dim and unlit, the shops were similar, the shopkeepers… well, they looked pale and white as ghosts. Every single shop could be well considered a haunted house if it were brought elsewhere.

In fact, there were actually semi-transparent souls floating about, or corpses created by some kind of failed biological experiments.

Any mortals who wandered into this place would probably drop dead without realizing it if they were to touch the poisonous bubbles that emerged from alchemy shops run by outlaws.

To wizards, however, this was just an ordinary shopping street as long as they did not offend the unspoken rules.

The street was divided into several sections that had different numbers of shops. Angor walked past the soul-infested “Dark Light District” and moved into an area where smoke and clouds of different colors drifted around the “Forbidden Poison District”.

Next was the “Organ Market” where the smell of blood would never go away. After this was finally what Angor was heading to—the Serpentine Road, which looked relatively peaceful and crowded.

This was one of the most infamous slave markets in the southern wizarding region. Wizards would occasionally visit here to purchase slaves or personal assistants.

Apart from these, the shops also offered familiar pets, magic puppets, and anything considered to be alive, which could be bought as long as one paid enough money. And if something was out of stock, a duly compensated hunter would always be ready to finish the job in time.

Before Angor could get a look at the shops nearby, a woman with a pair of large cat ears emerged from a store that looked too pink to his liking.

“Hello, sir, if you feel stressed, either mentally or on your body, a cute servant at Rosy Boutique can always help you with it!” The woman stretched her pheromone-covered arm and reached for Angor’s shoulder.

“No, thanks.” Angor quickly moved away.

Upon hearing Angor’s teenage voice, the woman rolled her eyes cunningly. “We can provide more than what I said. For example… How about a friendly meeting place for apprentices? You should find a lover and get a taste of it while you’re still young.”

“I’m looking for someone,” Angor replied in his usual plain tone.

“I see. We can help you with that too. You can use our information network as long as…” She spread a palm with obvious intentions.

Angor considered and gave the woman a decent-sized magic crystal. “Where is Pierre’s shop?”

The woman’s expression turned softer upon receiving the tip. “Pierre? You mean the one running the ’employment market’?”

Angor was not sure how to respond. He only knew that he was looking for an extremely fat guy who left the contact code of his personal transmitter during the trader meeting. Since Angor’s own transmitter that was issued by Brute Cavern did not have such functions, he had to ask around.

Angor snapped his fingers and created an illusion that showed Pierre’s image. “Do you know where this man is?”

“Instant Acoustic Illusion… that’s quite some skills, sir.” The woman’s eyes twinkled as she said, “About him… go to Punk’s Employment Market. You will find Pierre right there.”

After telling Angor how to get to Punk’s, the woman added something else, “If you wish to buy slaves, there are a lot of better places to check. Pierre has set up so many weird rules and regulations that he doesn’t get many customers. We at Rosy Boutique provides slaves as well. Take a look, pretty please?”

During the Astute Meeting, Angor heard someone mentioning Pierre’s “rules”. Now someone else confirmed it for him.

He came here to find slaves, but his intention might be a little different compared to the other shoppers—he wished to find an otherworldly traveler and learn how to keep Jon in this world safer. He didn’t care about which shop to choose from as long as he learned what he wanted.

He hesitated a bit and decided to follow this woman.

The shop welcomed him with an even thicker pheromone smell that made him feel sick.

Obviously, the shop wanted to stimulate the brains of its customers to facilitate impulse buying. Angor usually had no problem with average pheromone usage. However, too much of it would cause addiction symptoms, and it might cause someone to lose their mind.

As soon as he walked through the entrance, he elevated a barrier using spirit power and blocked the smell from reaching him.

“Oh, you don’t like our scent, sir?” The woman was a little surprised to see Angor’s reaction.

“Just show me your stock.”

The woman nodded and slowly showed Angor around the shop, which was enlarged using expansion runes. Most of the other customers were more or less affected by the pheromone with their faces blushing brightly. With either wicked or hungry looks, they were eagerly checking the “merchandise” offered in the shop—women, or to be more precise, creatures with feminine features. Some were locked inside cages, while others wandered outside while being completely naked.

“Those locked up are yet to be ‘tamed’. They have different natures. Wild ones, shy ones… you can choose as you like, young mister. As for the others, they are all ready to serve you. Trust me, they know how to please you. Some of them also came here willingly for their own reasons.”

Angor pretended that he was using his eyes to look around, while in fact, he was trying to sense the auras of the slaves.

“Are these all you have?” Angor did not find any otherworldly creatures among the displayed slaves. He saw humans and humanoids, which were all natives to this world.

The woman replied while trying to figure out Angor’s plan. “If you have special needs, do tell me and I’ll see what we can do.”

By saying “special needs”, she thought the little boy had quite some interesting fetish. She did not say it, but her expression gave her out.

Angor tried very hard not to frown when he saw the woman’s questioning look.

Before he could say anything else, however, the shop’s curtain was pushed open violently when a group of men wearing tattered black robes and swords barged inside.

Without holding back, the sudden visitors fully exerted their auras and scanned through all the slaves.

The bewitched guests weren’t very happy when their “lover slaves” were openly harassed by these impolite ruffians. Despite that, they all chose to stay quiet when they saw who had come. The cat-ear saleswoman also put on a grim, terrified expression.

“Supreme Cult…” Angor’s irises shrank as he recognized the intruders.