The bus' interior was utilitarian at best—metallic walls, faintly scuffed floors, and seats with minimal padding that seemed designed more for restraint than comfort.
As Rion sat down and fastened the stiff harness, he couldn't help but feel a pang of unease. The vehicle jerked forward, its engine emitting a low mechanical hum, as the driver guided it out of the ruins and onto the paved streets of the Western District.
The absence of windows was unsettling. Rion and the others would normally rely on the scenery outside to orient themselves, but here, enclosed within the metallic confines, they was adrift in an unknown journey.
This meant that none of them could feasibly gauge the speed, the direction, or even the time. The complete lack of external landmarks left Rion feeling disoriented, as though the bus could be driving in circles, taking him further and further into an unknown abyss.
The silence in the bus was heavy, broken only by the occasional low hum of the engine and the faint rustle of shifting seats. The driver, an older man with a furrowed brow, kept his gaze locked on the road—or whatever he was following, considering the lack of windows. Beside him, the brown-haired man—his earlier demeanor authoritative and calm—exuded an air of control, but he didn't seem inclined to speak. He sat motionless, his hands folded neatly in his lap, as though expecting an immediate confrontation at any moment.
Rion glanced around the cabin. The other invitees, who were just as silent as the staff, appeared lost in their own thoughts. Their bodies were stiff, their gazes downward or fixed on an unspoken horizon.
A few fidgeted with their hands, some chewed their nails, others stared blankly ahead, but none broke the uneasy stillness. Everyone was wrapped in their own bubble of anxiety or resolve, as if speaking might shatter the fragile wall of control they were all struggling to maintain.
With nothing else to occupy him, Rion leaned back in his seat. Since he was without means to gather any new information, he decided to divert his attention to reviewing the knowledge in his mind, flitting fromm topic to topic in order to internalize the knowledge.
The journey felt endless, with no external markers to signal how far they'd gone or how much time had passed. Each bump in the road was absorbed by the heavy suspension, and the low vibration of the engine became a constant drone that Rion almost found soothing.
Finally, the brown-haired man at the front of the bus spoke, his voice cutting through the tension with an edge of authority.
"We're almost there. Before you step off this bus, a word of advice: don't stand around gawking like idiots. Move quickly to the other end of the path and stay out of other people's way. Don't bump into anyone, don't cause a scene. The Exchange values order above all else, and if you violate their rules, they'll shoot you before you can even open your mouth. Clear?"
The air seemed to grow heavier with his words. Rion noticed a few of the other invitees shifting in their seats, their tension palpable.
Moments later, the bus began to decelerate, the engine's low hum trailing off into silence as it rolled to a stop. The hiss of hydraulic brakes was followed by the metallic clank of the doors unlocking.
As the doors slid open, Rion immediately understood the rationale behind the warning.
They had emerged into a vast, sprawling parking zone situated in the middle of an enormous excavated underground cavern. The ceiling soared hundreds of feet above, lined with massive industrial lights that cast a stark, cold glow across the area. The walls of the cavern were smooth and sheer, as though carved with precision by machines far more advanced than anything the people in this world should have access to.
The parking zone itself was meticulously organized, with vehicles of various sizes and shapes arranged in neat rows. Many of them looked far from ordinary—sleek, armored transports, towering cargo haulers, and even smaller, hovering crafts idling silently. Uniformed figures moved between the vehicles with efficiency, each step purposeful.
Rion's gaze followed the path laid out for them. A clearly marked walkway, bordered by glowing blue strips embedded in the cavern floor, led toward a massive set of double doors at the far end of the cavern. These doors, crafted from gleaming steel and adorned with intricate geometric patterns, were flanked by armed guards.
The guards were anything but ordinary. Clad in sleek black armor that seemed to shimmer faintly in the harsh light, they stood motionless with weapons in hand. Their helmets, faceless save for a narrow visor, gave them an unsettlingly inhuman appearance. The air around them seemed charged with an almost tangible aura of authority.
The brown-haired man stepped out first, his movements brisk as he turned back to the group. "Remember: move directly to the entrance, no detours, no hesitation. You'll present your credentials one more time before proceeding inside. Keep your heads down, and don't give the guards a reason to look at you twice."
Rion followed the others as they disembarked, the cold, sterile air of the cavern wrapping around him. He felt a surge of curiosity and unease battling within him as he resisted the urge to look around too much.
As they neared the entrance, the massive steel doors loomed larger, their patterns catching the light and reflecting it in strange, almost hypnotic ways. At the threshold, a smaller checkpoint had been set up, where yet more guards waited, equipped with advanced scanning devices.
One by one, the invitees stepped forward, presenting their credentials to the guards. The process was quick but thorough; the guards scanned the invitation cards, nodded curtly, and waved them through.
When it was Rion's turn, he handed over his credentials without a word. The guard's visor tilted slightly as the scanner emitted a soft beep. After a moment, the guard returned the card and gestured for him to proceed.
"Please head inside."
As Rion stepped through the steel doors, he was struck by the contrast between the utilitarian exterior and the refined chaos of the black-market hub inside.
The cavernous space had a polished yet utilitarian aesthetic, with polished stone floors that reflected the warm, amber glow of carefully placed lighting. The market was high-class, but not ostentatious—a balance of sleek professionalism and discreet sophistication.
The air smelled clean but carried hints of subtle luxury: exotic spices, freshly brewed coffee, and faint traces of expensive colognes. Overhead, metal beams supported suspended lights and hanging banners, each bearing the names or logos of prominent merchants and services.
The banners swayed slightly in the artificial breeze generated by hidden ventilation systems, adding a sense of movement to the still, subterranean air.
"Welcome to the Erebus Exchange!" A pretty guide greeted him. "Do you require some guidance?"
"No." Rion curtly answered and walked away.
The less people who paid attention to him, the better. Even though the marketplace seemed overwhelming, he decided it was better for him to explore the place on his own.
He pushed past the guide and ventured deeper into the marketplace, the noise of the crowd swelling around him. The hum of conversation, the clink of metals, the sharp calls of merchants—everything blended into a cacophony that only heightened the sense of overwhelming scale.
People moved in all directions, many dressed in robes and with masks on their faces, similar to him. With so many people dressed in similar disguises, it became very challenging to keep track of specific individuals without some form of assistance.
Rion hurried deeper into the bustling marketplace, quickly orienting himself before heading toward the section filled with origin techniques and gene solutions.
These 'gene solutions' were indispensable to the practice of a technique. They were like keys that allowed the practioners to unlock the technique.
Without them, no amount of study or practice could activate the methods described in the texts.
Interestingly, the role of gene solutions varied depending on the type of technique. For attribute-boosting techniques, a single dose was enough to get started; once unlocked, the practitioner could continue without it. However, attribute-enhancing techniques were more demanding, requiring the solution to be ingested each time the technique was used.
As Rion's main priority during this event, he was mostly interested in acquiring a technique that would enable him to improve his physical capabilities.
The Erebus Exchange was a labyrinth of interconnected corridors and stalls, each overflowing with a dazzling array of goods. Merchants hawked their wares with varying degrees of enthusiasm, some with practiced sales pitches, others with a more subdued, almost conspiratorial air.
"Dragon's Breath for sale! 50 kila per dosage! This potent elixir will ignite your passion and fuel hours of exhilarating activity! Forget your worries and embrace the ecstasy of unparalleled endurance with Dragon's Breath!"
"No one offers cheaper stimulants than us! Our goods are guaranteed to shatter your perceptions of reality and introduce you to sensations beyond your wildest dreams! And the best thing is you get our newest 'Black Congee' free of charge for each five purchases!"
"Are you lonely in your lives? Do you require some company? Exquisite beauties, skilled in the art of seduction, are ready to tantalize your every desire. We offer a range of services, from discreet companionship to unforgettable evenings of passion. Indulge yourself in the lap of luxury with our enchanting ladies. Prices negotiable. Discretion guaranteed."
Rion grimaced underneath his mask as he heard the sales pitch of the merchants. He was especially appalled at the number of people that moved towards the first hawker to inquire about his 'Dragon's Breath'.
Judging by the crowd swarming the elixir salesman, Rion mused dryly to himself, it seemed a significant portion of the Exchange's clientele were either severely lacking in stamina or preparing for a truly epic round of… something.
I sincerely hope it is a marathon chess tournaments all these gooners are preparing for.....
Shaking his head slightly, Rion finally reached his destination: the section devoted to the sale of origin techniques and potions.
The air here hummed with a different kind of energy, a subtle undercurrent of power that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
The boisterous hawkers were replaced by more discreet vendors, their stalls displaying intricate diagrams, glowing vials filled with shimmering liquids, and complex-looking devices that hummed with barely contained energy.
This area was divided into two distinct subsections: one for origin techniques and their corresponding gene solutions, and the other for potions.
Just like attribute-boosting origin techniques, potions offered temporary enhancements to a cultivator's abilities. However, they possessed a distinct advantage: they could be used without requiring the user to expend any mental energy on activation.
This made them incredibly valuable in situations where focus was paramount or when a sudden, unexpected boost was needed. Rion knew that while techniques offered more long-term potential, a well-chosen potion could be the difference between life and death in a tight spot.
This was because every potion contained different ingredients and underwent different synthesizing methods, thus they also had different efficacies.
Some potions could grant a fleeting burst of superhuman strength, enough to shatter stone with a single punch, while others offered more subtle enhancements, like heightened reflexes or an accelerated healing rate.
There were even concoctions that temporarily altered the user's senses, granting them night vision, enhanced hearing, or the ability to perceive thermal signatures.
The potency and duration of these effects varied wildly, depending on the rarity of the ingredients and the skill of the alchemist who synthesized them.
A cheaply produced 'Strength Surge' might offer a brief, shaky boost for a few minutes, while a masterfully brewed 'Titan's Might' could bestow near-godlike power for a considerably longer period, provided the cultivator's body could handle it.
Relying solely on potions wasn't a sustainable long-term strategy, as their drawbacks were plenty. Their effects were temporary, they were expensive, and some could even have detrimental side effects with prolonged use. However, they could provide a valuable edge in certain situations, especially when combined with a suitable origin technique.
The sight of samples of potions and techniques on display brought a smile to his lips. The bounty of the Pinecrest, or perhaps even the entire region of Avalor, was all here for the taking. Already, Rion spotted rare and expensive potions that would never have been allowed to circulate out of the tightly controlled guilds and academies. Yet here they were, openly displayed, ready for any who had the means to purchase them.
"Let's browse the wares carefully."
Not only was the selection of goods wider here, but their prices were also slightly cheaper!