Chapter 564 Contradiction <TOC> Chapter 566 The Damaskian Nano
Translator: SumTLMan
Since even the wizards from the Extreme Sect had come to “appraise,” it was basically impossible for Angel to find a life from another realm in the Rouge House.
Therefore, he didn’t stay long at the Rouge House and turned to leave.
After Angel left, the cat-eared lady was still pondering Angel’s identity when she suddenly remembered that he had used a sound illusion spell at the door before entering the shop. Among wizard apprentices, few could perform illusion spells, as learning them without natural talent for illusions was not easy. People hadn’t even fully learned the spells of their own school, so why bother branching out?
Even if they branched out, they would typically focus on the elemental side rather than the exceedingly difficult mysterious side.
As such, most of those who practice across the mysterious side have already accumulated a foundation in their own school, and these people are generally over forty or fifty years old. But the person just now sounded young and immature, probably not even thirty years old.
Such a young person definitely wouldn’t practice across schools. This means that his main school might be the mysterious illusion school.
In the current Mechanical City, the hottest illusion school apprentice…
An image flashed through the cat-eared lady’s mind. Even though several days had passed since the Purification Garden incident, its popularity had not waned. Many gossip magazines even began digging into the life experiences of some core apprentices, going as far as paying for exclusive interviews with them. These exclusive interviews sparked a wave of enthusiasm.
Many new young idols began to gain momentum during this period, although they might not be aware of the concept of “idol.”
The only one who did not accept an interview but remained popular, even topping the trending charts several times, was the person the cat-eared lady thought of.
The Phantom Master’s disciple.
“Could it be him?” the cat-eared lady whispered to herself.
At the same time, Angel had already arrived at the entrance of a dark alley.
According to the information he had gathered, the “Punk Talent Exchange Market” run by Pierre was located in this narrow, long alley.
At the entrance of the alley, there was a metal trash can taking up half of the path. It emitted a bloody stench, and one could vaguely see a rotting human hand inside.
To enter the alley, one would have to pass by this trash can.
The trash can was not the focus of Angel’s attention, but what he thought of was… Looking around, every shop was beautifully designed. Even without neon lights, the effects of magical patterns and tricks were more dazzling than the neon lights on Earth. Comparing the two, Pierre’s shop seemed inferior from the outside.
No wonder he would go everywhere to solicit business, even attending profound exchange meetings.
Angel turned and walked into the dark alley, the damp ground wet with either blood or filthy water. Moss grew on the walls on both sides, emitting an unpleasant musty smell.
Angel had walked more than halfway down the alley without seeing a single person.
He caught a glimpse of a pale corner and shook his head, sighing: “I’ve seen plenty of skeletons though.”
At that moment, a pair of glowing green eyes suddenly lit up in the dark alley.
Angel looked up and, with the help of the dim light, saw an owl standing on the wall, staring at him with cold eyes.
“An alchemical familiar?” Although Angel couldn’t see the owl’s appearance clearly, he immediately thought of Flora’s alchemical familiar named Elsa, which also took the form of an owl.
The owl didn’t respond, but instead kept its eyes on Angel until he disappeared at the end of the alley.
Just as Angel estimated that he was about to reach the end of the alley, he heard a fluttering sound overhead. The owl had taken flight, eventually landing next to a man at the end of the alley.
“Someone’s coming?” The man was wearing sunglasses, lying in a deck chair, wearing only shorts, as if enjoying sunbathing on the beach. However, the “sunlight” on his face was actually an ordinary wall lamp hanging on the wall.
“Is it those Rampant Wizards from the Extreme Sect?” The man sat up and looked at the owl.
The owl shook its head after some thought.
“Not the Rampant Wizards?” The man’s voice was even more incredulous: “Is it a guest then?”
“Is this the Punk Talent Exchange Market?” At this point, Angel also approached, his gaze sweeping over the man in sunglasses before stopping at a small door with an open hole.
There was no sign on this small door, but beneath the metal plate displaying the “Kirk Street House Number,” there was a line of tiny, flowery text: Punk Talent Exchange Market.
Looking at the almost imperceptible text, Angel couldn’t help but frown: This was too remote. Could such a place be called a ‘market’?
The man in sunglasses sized up Angel and, once sure he wasn’t a Rampant Wizard, hesitated for a long time before saying: “Yes, this is the Punk Talent Exchange Market… Who are you?”
Angel: “If everything goes well, I should be your guest.”
The man in sunglasses was taken aback, removed his sunglasses, and after a long time, stood up with an incredulous expression on his handsome face, yelling into the small doorway: “Pierre, we have a guest!”
His demeanor left Angel speechless; was he really the first guest today? Judging by the single row of wet footprints on the ground, it might be true.
“You’re our first guest this month, so I’m a little excited, I’m really sorry.” The man in sunglasses stood up, bowed, and said: “I apologize for any inconvenience I may have caused.”
Angel: “…” It turns out he overestimated the selling power of this shop.
At that moment, an excited fat man with his pants unbuckled walked out from the door.
“Customer?” When he reached Angel, he had already composed his expression and appearance, with his gentleman’s suspenders being squeezed into a strange formation by his large belly.
“Mr. Pierre, hello.” Angel said indifferently: “I heard that the quality of talent here is good, so I came to take a look.”
Since the other party mentioned that it was a “talent” exchange market, Angel simply went along with it and changed the word “slave” that was on the tip of his tongue to “talent.”
Angel’s words clearly pleased Pierre, and even the sunglasses-wearing man next to him showed delight.
“That’s right, that’s right! My place is the largest talent exchange market on Kirk Street. Whatever talent you want, you can find it here!” Pierre said proudly: “What kind of talent does the customer want, what do you think of him?”
As Pierre spoke, he pointed to the sunglasses-wearing man nearby, who was only wearing a pair of pants.
At this moment, the sunglasses-wearing man also grinned and pointed at himself: “I am also excellent talent, if the customer takes me home, I can cooperate with anything.”
This back and forth left Angel momentarily stunned.
At first, he thought the sunglasses-wearing man was an employee, so he greeted him enthusiastically. He didn’t expect him to be one of the “talents” in the shop.
Although he had seen slaves being allowed to go out and about in the Red Powder House, according to the cat-eared lady, most of them had been trained or voluntarily submitted. Was this man also a voluntary submission?
Angel curiously examined him. He didn’t sense any otherworldly aura on him, but he did discover that this young man was actually a talented individual.
Moreover, he had already reached the peak of a second-level apprentice?
“Don’t mind his exhibitionist tendencies; his actual ability is not bad. He went to the Purification Garden last time and managed to escape unscathed.” Pierre seemed to realize that Angel was genuinely interested in purchasing “talent” and began to promote him vigorously.
“No need, I am not looking for someone like him.” Angel stopped Pierre’s endless chatter.
With a disappointed expression on the sunglasses-wearing man’s face, Angel asked curiously: “His ability is not bad; why does he need to sell his body?”
Pierre and the sunglasses-wearing man exchanged glances. After a while, Pierre said: “Perhaps it’s his hobby?”
The sunglasses-wearing man said irritably: “I am not selling my body; I just ran out of money and needed to find a way to make a living. I have no other skills, so all I have is this strength to sell.”
Angel raised his eyebrows: “I thought this place was also for slave trading. Turns out it really is a talent recruitment market.”
Pierre was taken aback for a moment, and it took him a while to understand Angel’s meaning: “Indeed, I do have a service here to help people post job listings, but it only accounts for a small portion. The vast majority are still slave trades. What kind of slaves does the customer want? Top-quality maids smuggled from the Man Eater Plane, young wild cats, cold types, verbally abusive ghosts, gentle types, I have them all here!”
“May I have a look first?”
“Of course, please follow me.”
Under Pierre’s guidance, Angel entered the small gate.
Following a winding staircase downward, Angel finally arrived at the Punk Talent Exchange Market’s hall. Contrary to the chaos outside, the interior was quite spacious.
At a glance, it seemed even larger than the Rouge House. However, the atmosphere was vastly different.
The circular hall was warmly decorated with a fireplace, carpet, hot tea, warm lighting, and a faint, unobtrusive scent of fragrant wood.
Based on the decoration, Angel preferred the style here.
A few people in the hall curiously looked over, wanting to see what the first “guest” of the month looked like. However, Angel was shrouded in a black cloak, making it impossible to discern his appearance.
Angel looked around, sensing any energies that didn’t belong to the wizarding world.
Unfortunately, there were none.
“Guest, what kind of slave do you want? You can tell me, so I can help you figure it out. Even if we don’t have what you want, we can establish a long-term relationship. I can help you get whatever you desire.” Pierre led Angel to a sofa bathed in the warm glow of a fireplace. As they sat down, Pierre eagerly spoke.
Angel had some understanding of life in other worlds. However, he was unsure which ones could be bought and which ones could not.
As for the “high-quality maids smuggled from the Man Eater Plane” mentioned by Pierre, Angel had no interest.
Not to mention his young age, even bringing a maid back to the Blooming Manor would make him wonder how to face Sanders. Sanders himself was known for his self-discipline, and if his student indulged in lust, he would likely lose face.
So Angel thought for a moment, ruling out the “female” option, or at least humanoid females.
Without knowing much about the creatures of other worlds, Angel ultimately decided to apply a race he had seen at a previous Twilighy Auction: “Crystal people, do you have any crystal people here?”
Chapter 564 Contradiction <TOC> Chapter 566 The Damaskian Nano