Chapter 566 The Damaskian Nano

Chapter 565 Punk Talent Exchange Market <TOC> Chapter 567 Purchase Conditions

Previous page password is bold portion: Y7ketre!iNi

Translator: SumTLMan

Crystal people are a type of otherworldly slave that Angel saw at the Twilight Auction. He still remembers the description of the crystal person at the auction: “Crystal people come from the Grandeur Plane, born with the talent of craftsmanship, they are the best helpers for both ground constructions and underground fortresses.”

The appearance of a crystal person is a small dwarf covered with crystal scales. Of course, they are taller than the Kulakuka tribe.

Crystal people have impressive talents and are valuable whether for personal use or for the family. Therefore, Angel, unable to think of other otherworldly races, simply asked Pierre about the crystal people.

“Crystal people from the Grandeur Plane…” Pierre was silent for a while and shook his head at Angel: “These slaves are very expensive, I don’t have any here.”

Expensive? Angel remembers that the small crystal person at the Twilight Auction only sold for 1,500 magic crystals. Is that considered expensive?

Angel has no concept of the price of slaves. He thinks that otherworldly slaves are probably worth more than 1,000 magic crystals, but he forgets that the otherworldly slaves he saw were all auction-grade quality.

Since there were no crystal people, Angel pondered for a moment, and thought about simply buying a maid smuggled from the Man Eater Plane. At worst, he would waste money and let her go when they left.

While he was thinking about this, Pierre suddenly said: “Although there are no crystal people, I have a race called the Damaskians from the same Grandeur Plane.”

“They are also skilled craftsmen, but they cannot break down ores like crystal people. They are more skilled in tailoring and processing various cloth and leather materials. If they are well-cultivated, they can even tan and cut advanced cloth and leather.” Pierre paused and continued: “Of course, if you want them to build houses, they can do it, but only ordinary constructions.”

Damaskians? Angel had never heard of this race, but since Pierre said they came from the Grandeur Plane, they probably didn’t get along with the wizards’ grand will, right?

And tailoring… Angel had recently planned to study clothing production, and it might be useful to exchange ideas.

Perhaps, compared to crystal people, these Damaskians might be more helpful to him.

With this thought, Angel naturally agreed wholeheartedly. However, he still had to act the part, so he pretended to ponder for a while before frowning and sighing: “I don’t know if Damaskians are suitable or not, why don’t you let me take a look first?”

Pierre was also anxious. Seeing that Angel seemed determined to have a crystal person, he didn’t know if his suggestion would be accepted.

But when Angel agreed to see the Damaskian, Pierre’s uneasiness did not diminish. Because, thinking about that the Damaskian, he also wanted to sigh.

The slaves he sold had their own personalities, and the Damaskian’s personality was somewhat difficult to describe… Moreover, its demands were high, and he didn’t know if this guest could accept it.

Though hesitating in his heart, he still had to bring the Damaskian out to meet the guest.

Pierre smiled on the surface, but his heart was silently praying, hoping that nothing would go wrong.

“Please follow me, Angel. the Damaskian resides on the third underground floor,” Pierre stood up and led the way.

Residing on the third underground floor? Angel was somewhat curious about the use of the word “reside.” It was rarely used for slaves; it was usually for tenants.

As Angel followed Pierre, he noticed some details. When Pierre mentioned taking him to see the “Damaskian,” people around started whispering to each other.

These people, since they were not guests, were likely similar to the sunglasses-wearing man outside: either talents rented by the house or slaves for sale.

Presumably, they should be quite familiar with the Damaskian. If so, why did they show expressions of watching a good show? Did the Damaskian have some unspeakable secret?

As Angel thought about this, Pierre had already brought him to the third underground floor.

They stood in front of a large door made of bronze.

The door was very wide, even two or three times larger than the one they entered through, and its intricate design surprised Angel.

What surprised him was not the excessive refinement but the peculiar coloration. Pea-green paired with rose-red was a color clash he had never seen before. The visual impact was strong, but the sense of beauty seemed somewhat lacking.

“This is where the Damaskian resides,” Pierre said in front of the bronze door.

Ignoring the intricate yet bizarre color clash, Angel asked curiously: “This is my first time hearing about the Damaskian. Judging by the size of the door, is the Damaskian’s body large?”

Pierre shook his head: “No, that’s not the case. The indigenous humanoid races of the Grandeur Plane are actually not very large. The Damaskian’s size is similar to a Crystal person. As for why the door is so big—”

Pierre’s face showed a hint of embarrassment: “It was designed and installed by the Damaskian himself. He likes it this way, saying it’s grand.”

Pierre spoke softly and then secretly pointed inside.

“Designed and installed by the Damaskian himself?” Angel raised an eyebrow: “Well, his taste is truly… remarkable.”

Pierre laughed dryly, avoiding Angel’s probing gaze, and knocked on the door.

After waiting for about a minute, there was an explosive sound from inside: “Who is it? Don’t you know I’m sleeping? I’ll kill whoever disturbs my sleep!”

“Nano, it’s me. We have a guest!” Pierre shouted.

“A guest?” The voice inside muttered, and then there was silence. However, Angel faintly heard the sound of clothes rustling, probably getting dressed.

Pierre turned to Angel and apologized with a smile: “Nano is a bit grumpy when waking up, but he’s usually quite… nice.”

When Pierre mentioned “nice,” he himself blushed a little.

Angel nodded noncommittally, not dwelling on the character, but instead asked: “Can he speak the common language of the continent?”

Pierre was about to answer when the bronze door was pushed open from the inside, and a voice with a hint of morning grogginess said: “I’ve been here for five years, of course I can speak the common language of the continent, I’m not stupid.”

Angel turned to look at the person speaking from within the room.

Upon seeing the newcomer clearly, his eyes narrowed slightly.

As Pierre had described, he was not a tall figure. He was about the height of five or six Kulakukas combined, and with his hat, he was just above Angel’s knee.

He wore a small tailcoat and a flat-footed wide-brimmed hat.

If one ignored the eye-dazzling color combination, the clothes themselves were quite good-looking. Unfortunately, the red clothes and green hat reminded Angel of the story of the “green hat” that the Wizarding World’s people didn’t understand.

There was no doubt that this was a male Damaskian.

He resembled a human in appearance, but Angel noticed that the Damaskian’s skin did not have the lustrous feel of human skin but rather had more of a silky sheen.

Furthermore, this Damaskian had a “anchor-style” beard on his chin, which looked like the style favored by old-fashioned aristocrats.

As Angel examined the Damaskian, the Damaskian was also examining Angel: “So you’re the guest? Why don’t you even show your face?”

After saying this, the Damaskian turned to Pierre and said: “Those who hide their faces might have a guilty conscience. Who knows, I might lead a life of hardship in the future. I don’t want such a master.”

Angel was puzzled: how did hiding one’s face equate to leading a life of hardship?

Pierre didn’t want to lose this business deal, so he hurriedly reassured Nano while giving Angel an apologetic smile.

After a while, they sat in Nano’s room.

Well… a luxurious and extravagant room.

The cups were adorned with glass patterns, the curtains were made of smooth silk… and the furniture showcased unparalleled craftsmanship.

The entire room’s furnishings were nearly comparable to Angel’s Opulent Nightmare Domain.

The only drawback was the worrying color coordination. Red and green, Angel thought he had reached the limit; earthy yellow and lotus green, pure white and fluorescent orange, orange-red and lotus pink… Almost every kind of contrasting color opened up a new world of color perception for Angel.

Seeing Angel looking around his small home, Damaskian Nano said with pride: “Everything here was designed and made by me. Not bad, right? These are all my painstaking efforts.”

Angel chose a non-controversial word to respond: “The craftsmanship is exquisite.”

Nano raised his head proudly: “Of course, I am the prince with the strongest talent in my tribe!”

“Prince?” Angel muttered the word.

Pierre explained softly: “Nano is indeed the prince of a branch of Damaskians.”

Angel was surprised. If he was a prince, why would he fall into the Wizarding World and become a slave? Moreover, what was strange to Angel was that, according to this Damaskian, he had been here for five years… Luxurious furnishings, high-quality provisions, did this meet the standards of a slave master treating slaves?

Pierre seemed to see Angel’s doubts, and while Nano was proudly introducing his “achievements,” he whispered to Angel: “You’ve noticed, too, that the slaves here are not treated as slaves but as friends and family.”

“I don’t want my friends to be humiliated as slaves, so I’ll give you a heads up. If you want to take them away, please agree to some of their conditions. Once you agree to these conditions and keep your promises, they will naturally respect you as their master.”

When Pierre said this, Angel had a rough understanding of why Pierre’s business was so poor, and many people said that the quality of slaves in Pierre’s place was high, but there were too many conditions, and not many people were willing to come here.

It was estimated that Pierre had given the slaves the right to make their own conditions.

As a wizard, treating these otherworldly slaves as dust was the norm; who would care about their conditions? In such a situation, it was normal for Pierre not to be able to sell them.

Chapter 565 Punk Talent Exchange Market <TOC> Chapter 567 Purchase Conditions

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