Next page password is bold portion: @h3sp3#EkaB
Translator: SumTLMan
Within the cabin, everything was as Prapa had imagined, exuding an air of constrained intimacy.
Beyond a central round table and a few stools scattered haphazardly, the wooden shack was starkly unadorned, devoid of any embellishments or comforts.
Facing Prapa across the round table was a member of a race Prapa never imagined she would encounter in La Sutherland — a native Abyssal.
His frail frame, his paper-thin physique, and those eyes as black as ink, with no discernable distinction between iris and pupil, all were indisputable testament to the fact that the man before it was indeed a native of the Abyss.
An Abyssal resident, daringly and overtly making his presence known in La Sutherland? This was a sight that Prapa could scarcely bring itself to believe.
While La Sutherland had never expressly forbidden the arrival of native folk, it equally had not prohibited human visits. But dare any human venture there?
By the same token, the Abyssals coming here was akin to tender lambs straying into a pack of wolves.
“Are you… an Abyssal native?” With trembling fingers, Prapa pointed in disbelief at the young man across the table.
The youth grinned and nodded affirmatively, then gestured towards the stool, “Have a seat! Today is a lucky day for my shop, you’re my first customer. I could offer you a discount!”
He seemed completely unfazed by Prapa’s shock, continually promoting his shop’s specialties.
Unfortunately, his Abyssal language was so convoluted, it was on par with the incomprehensible Abyssal script on the exterior. Prapa could barely make heads or tails of what he was saying.
Prapa couldn’t help but interrupt, “You’re a native Abyssal, why would you open a shop in La Sutherland? Are you not afraid of the potential problems?”
The youth across the table paused, his gaze flickering, “What trouble do you mean? That?”
The youth gestured towards the window behind him. As Prapa craned his neck to look, he was met with the sight of several half-demons, covered in wounds, lying in the forest outside the window. Among them, a smaller demon lay still. It seemed as if they had all been rendered unconscious.
How could this be? All these demons had been neutralized?
A shiver ran down Prapa’s spine and he couldn’t help but regard the young shopkeeper across the round table with a touch more respect. The smallest of these creatures was no ordinary Phantom Imp, but a much more potent breed. If this shopkeeper could incapacitate it, he could easily handle a hundred of him.
Such formidable power explained why he dared venture solo into La Sutherland and open a seemingly inconsequential shop.
The young shopkeeper shrugged, “I think you may have misunderstood. I couldn’t handle those troubles.”
As his words fell, a disdainful snort resounded from beyond the window behind him. “Not a single worthy opponent, the warm-up didn’t even start. Truly disappointing.”
Prapa immediately turned to look and saw a tall woman with a smoldering, dark complexion casually discarding a small demon in the forest before approaching the window. She leaned on the sill from outside, peering into the shop.
Her icy glare with eyes of exotic cyan and red swept over Prapa, making him feel as if he was being targeted by a formidable predator. A chill started at the base of his tail and climbed up his spine, reaching his head.
Prapa froze, his mind fixated on a single thought: “So strong!”
A mere glance from her made his scalp tingle. Such a powerful being was undoubtedly a mid-level demon or above, an entity that should not be opposed. It was clear why the small demons and half-demons earlier had no chance to fight back.
“Hey, is this kid looking for trouble too?” The dark-skinned woman pointed at Prapa.
Before the young shopkeeper could respond, Prapa quickly shook his head, “No, no, I’m just an ordinary customer.”
A glint of keen scrutiny flickered in the eyes of the young man, as he whispered in suspicion, “They don’t seem to be here to stir up trouble, yet entering the shop and not making a purchase raises questions.”
Before the dark-skinned woman could react, Prapa hastily called out, “Shopkeeper, I am here to patronize your business. I made no purchase due to your previous vague descriptions which I failed to comprehend. Could you please reiterate your offerings?”
With a grin spreading across his face, the youth replied, “Our establishment offers you the chance to experience the Rhythm of the Ocean.”
“Is that all?” queried Prapa, slightly puzzled, “I could have sworn I heard other services earlier?”
“You must have misunderstood. That is our sole offering.”
“Well then, could you provide a detailed explanation of this experience? And how much would it cost?” As Prapa posed this question, the dark-skinned woman who had been eyeing him from the window turned her attention away. With a subtle flip, she perched herself on the window sill, basking in the refreshing woodland breeze, eyes closed in a feigned slumber.
“Experiencing the Rhythm of the Ocean is exactly as it sounds. As for the price, in celebration of our grand opening, I can offer you a discount. Just 100 pieces of demon gold,” the youth proclaimed, a look of benevolence on his face.
Prapa, however, appeared to question the validity of his auditory senses at hearing the quoted price.
“Could you repeat the price for me, shopkeeper?”
“100 pieces of demon gold,” the youth repeated, murmuring under his breath, “Did I set the price too low?”
Prapa was stunned, his subconscious mind expressing his thoughts aloud, “100 pieces of demon gold? Are you committing a daylight robbery?”
“Robbery?” the pitch of the young man’s voice suddenly dropped. His eyes, filled with shadows, slid towards Prapa.
Simultaneously, the dark-skinned woman perched on the window sill snapped her eyes open, shooting an icy glance at Prapa. That single look sent a chilling shiver down Prapa’s spine, as if he’d been plunged into a freezing ice cellar.
“Save me, Curator!” The plea filled the air, laced with fear. “This isn’t running a business, this is extortion at its worst! They’re press-ganging customers into buying and selling!”
The look in the woman’s eyes said it all — refuse to buy, and you’ll end up like those shattered souls outside.
Prapa gulped nervously, feeling unjustly wronged. The sign with Abyssian words had initially offered comfort. Upon entering, a sight of an Abyss native shopkeeper, despite being surprising, filled Prapa with nostalgia. After all, its mother was a native, and even though it couldn’t identify the youth’s tribe, an instinctive kinship was felt.
But the harsh truth revealed that the native youth was nothing more than a wolf in sheep’s clothing — a greedy monster. And this so-called ‘Phantasmagoria’ shop was nothing short of a den of iniquity!
Under the raised eyebrows of the young shopkeeper, beneath the threatening gaze of the woman, Prapa began to… cry.
For the first time since the death of its parents, Prapa felt this level of injustice. It was so profound that tears welled up and fell, manifesting as shimmering blue orbs upon hitting the ground.
“The essence of Phantom Imp’s phantom water can preserve meat,” came a cold, woman’s voice.
The young shopkeeper blinked, seemingly materializing a dish from nowhere, and placed it before Prapa. His action silently invited Prapa to cry all it wished, just not to waste the valuable tears.
Suddenly, Prapa found its sobbing stifled, its chest tightened.
Only then did the young shopkeeper ask, “Why are you crying?”
Seemingly embarrassed, Prapa whined, “Your prices are too steep… I can’t afford them.”
“Are my prices high?” The shopkeeper turned to the woman with a puzzled look.
The woman had her eyes closed again. “It thinks it’s expensive because it’s poor,” she stated coldly. “Also, don’t bother me with such trivial matters in the future.”
Although accused of being “poor”, the Wronged Prapa, had come to terms with his situation. He emptied the contents of his little pouch onto the table——
Clatter! A meager scattering of demon gold coins spread across the round surface.
“All my worldly possessions amount to these.” As he spoke, Prapa extracted two of the most worn coins from his ear. “These two were bequeathed to me by my parents, so I only have ten gold coins at most.”
Prapa had come to terms with his fate, suspecting that he wouldn’t be able to leave here without shedding some of his scales today.
At worst, it would mean that he had worked in vain these past months. After all, he was subject to the prevailing circumstances, especially when dealing with the dark-skinned woman who could likely annihilate him with a mere glance.
In the Abyss brimming with slaughter, merely losing some demon gold in the name of survival was, in reality, considered to be a stroke of good luck.
“You do indeed seem rather poor.” After uttering these words, the youthful shopkeeper tapped his fingers on the table, seemingly lost in thought. After a while, he said, “Here’s what I propose. You are, after all, the first customer to step into my shop since its opening. Therefore, I’ll offer you a special discount on your first order — how about eight demon gold coins?”
What could Prapa possibly say? The other party’s demand for eight demon gold coins was probably due to his earlier confession about two of the coins being parental relics, prompting the shopkeeper’s compassionate heart… Wait! This shopkeeper actually harbored sympathy?! If he played up his pitiful circumstances a bit more, could he perhaps leave without spending a dime?
Struck by this idea, Prapa decided to give it a shot.
“Actually, I earn money solely for avenging my parents, but my abilities are quite weak, and the refining methods of the Phantom Imp aren’t all that effective. I thought I could rely on my own labor to earn money to buy…” Prapa made his own experiences sound as pitiful as possible.
However, he noticed that the youth on the other side seemed unmoved, maintaining his smiling demeanor.
Could my tale not be pitiful enough?
“So, you amass fortune to bolster your abilities, hoping for vengeance?” The young man pondered, “Well, you are of the water element. Experience the Rhythm of the Ocean; it might enhance your strength.”
As he spoke, the young shopkeeper pocketed the eight demon gold coins on the table, deliberately leaving the two “relics” untouched.
“What do you think? When will you commence your journey of discovery?”
There was a moment of stiffness in Prapa’s expression. It seemed the other’s sympathy was spent… Indeed, even a native, after some time in the demon’s world, would understand the cunning of demons, just like its previous experiences. If they saw a crack, they’d wedge a needle in.
It wasn’t always like this, but after arriving at La Sutherland, it gradually lost its original self.
Prapa sighed, knowing it had no choice but to bite the bullet.
Eight gold coins, not overly excessive, a few months’ worth of time at best. From another perspective, it only used eight demon gold coins to spare its life in front of an intermediate demon. It was quite a bargain already.
It might as well play the fool this time, testing out this so-called “journey of discovery” that dared to charge a hundred demon gold coins even after a discount, to see just how lavish it could be.
As for the shopkeeper’s claim that it could enhance its strength, Prapa took it as a complete joke.