The Black Market [2]

Amon looked at the now almost completely dark street, devoid of life except for a single old man, sitting at a corner of an average shop looking down at the ground without a care in the world.

Walking and arriving next to him, Amon didn't look at him.

Rather, he looked up and gazed at the sky, completely ignoring the old man's existence.

Both parties remained silent and kept their gazes focused on their work as if the other wasn't even present there.

For a whole hour, this silence continued as Amon kept gazing at the sky while the man kept gazing at the ground.

Finally, the man's eyes moved to the corner, eyeing him.

The man kept his gaze still for a few seconds as if evaluating him.

Amon however, remained completely engrossed in his own work, still ignoring the man.

Finally, the man spoke, his voice hoarse and raspy.

"Excuse me, do you know the time?"

Without moving an inch, Amon replied instantly.

"It's half past three."

The man's gaze narrowed.

"Are you from the rich part of town?"

"You could say that."

"Any cafes there?"

"Yeah, there's one with a blue door."

The man's gaze narrowed even further.

"Any special drinks you know there?"

"Yeah. They serve a mean latte. I'm mostly there."

"Get us a tea then." The man said.

"Fucking Brits…" Amon replied, saying the final piece of code.

His gaze finally relaxed and his head turned around rapidly, looking left and right continuously to see if anyone was there.

Finding no one around, he sneakily raised his arm up, nearing it towards the gloved hand of Amon.

And in the next moment, he handed him a black card before standing up.

The latter finally removed his gaze from the sky, and checked the black card handed to him.

After some moments, he turned to the man and nodded before starting to leave.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Amon spoke and the man nodded back.

However, just as he had walked a few steps, the man called back.

"You're gonna owe me for this."

Amon turned back, his mask hiding his expression from the man.

"Why?"

The man's lips curled up into a small smile.

"We're fixing each other's problems."

Without any movement, Amon asked back.

"What's my problem?"

The man's smile widened further.

"The mask…Take it off…"

"Show my face?"

The man nodded.

"Yes, sir."

"Negative," Amon replied.

"Are you ugly?" The man smirked.

"Quite the opposite." He smiled a little behind his mask.

"I doubt that." The man replied finally and then without waiting for an answer, started to leave.

Amon stared at the fading back of the man till he finally disappeared from view.

He let out a deep sigh of relief at that moment.

The man who he had just conversed with was a client of the Black Market in Eldergrove.

Every day, he would sit at this time exact spot for 2 hours at noon before leaving.

After receiving information about it from Athena and how to enter it, Michael would come here in the future to gain access to the market.

A person was first supposed to say nothing to the man and just stand next to him for the whole time until the man would ask the time.

Though the conversation made no sense, this was how the author had written it in the book.

It was the only way to gain access.

And Michael would repeat this same conversation with the man in the future.

But even when you had the conversation with the man and obtained the card from him, the test to enter did not end there.

A person would wear a mask when entering the Black Market or when conversing with any person belonging to the market.

This is why the second conversation that Amon just had with the man was also a test to see if he was genuine.

If he had said even a word wrong in the conversation, he would have died in the next minute by the guards hiding around this spot.

Now finally having access to the card, Amon turned left and headed further into the dark street.

He arrived under a completely secluded and dark spot where two bulky men, clad in formal suits were standing, guarding a rusted black metal door.

They eyed him with skepticism, their bodies tensing, ready to act at any moment.

Amon instantly felt a piercing pressure boring down on his body.

These guards were not ordinary guards but very strong retired mercenaries.

Fortunately, he quickly raised his black card for them to see and saved himself from the pressure.

Taking the card from his hand, one of the men examined it for some moments before placing it in a device.

DING!

The device let out a ringing sound with a green light, letting the guards know that it was genuine.

Handing the card back to him, both men separated to make some distance for him to pass through.

Opening the black rusted metal door, Amon saw a single narrow staircase, heading deep down into the darkness.

Without looking back, he started to proceed down the stairs.

The darkness enveloped him whole, taking away his sense of sight but he continued regardless.

After 2 minutes of walking down the stairs non-stop, Amon finally saw a bright light ahead, finally returning his sense of sight to him.

Exiting the staircase, his eyes widened in shock.

What greeted his sight was a large, vicious space as far as the eye could see.

It was basically a small town.

All around him were stalls with sellers selling various items ranging from potions, equipment, tomes, and much more.

Slave and prostitute traders sat at the corners, calling out differents prices for different kinds of slaves.

Different buildings stood tall for different illegal purposes.

Behind his mask, he finally realized that he had now entered the cruel dark part of society.

The part that was hidden from the general public.

The part that almost made him puke with disgust at the cruelty of it all.

The Black Market.

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