Chapter 199

Posted by Kuze, ? Views, Released on April 8, 2025

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Chapter 199

Hassan’s Business

Chapter 199 – Hassan’s Business #2

The underground market that I had visited in the past was an extremely chaotic and noisy place.

Much like how people crowd into banks to avoid the scorching summer sun, the market was bustling with a multitude of riff-raff who were noisily talking and causing commotion.

However, with news of the Hydra Thief Guild’s downfall reaching us, and the officials and bureaucrats who had been protecting this underground market through some kind of loophole now getting arrested for various alleged laws, this place has become desolate, much like an outdated electronics market that can’t let go of its former glory.

Certainly, it’s not completely empty of people. In fact, there are more armed soldiers patrolling the underground passages than actual customers, thus erasing any trace of its old illegal atmosphere that used to characterize it.

Despite all this, were they unable to completely eradicate what had been so deeply rooted in a month?

Even now, at this underground market, informants who sell secrets, fences dealing in stolen goods, and thieves still huddle in the dark corners, dressed in black.

“Hey, you lot in the corner! Don’t even think about causing a commotion.”

The city soldiers seem to also turn a blind eye to a certain extent. Perhaps they believe that forcibly trying to get rid of these people will only stir up resentment and create problems within the city.

They’ve decided to systematically eliminate the underground market through compromise rather than direct confrontation. Either way, whether it happens or not, I don’t care if the pickpockets in the back alleys lose their jobs.

“Hey, Samaritan! What’s going on here underground? State your identity!”

I was musing about this while walking through the cool streets leading to the underground water when I noticed three armed guards with torches approaching me.

Is this some kind of random inspection?

I was slightly taken aback, but since I have nothing to hide, I needed to act confidently.

If I were to start rambling nervously, it’d just lead to, “This guy looks suspicious! Take him away!” and ruin my entire day with unnecessary excuses.

At a time when my reputation is crucial and each day counts, wasting my time arguing with the patrol is something I truly dislike.

“Show us your ID!”

As the guards surrounded me and applied pressure, I rummaged inside my coat.

I was about to show them the Bronze Tier insignia hanging around my neck, but then I remembered something even better in my pocket.

Swish. Clatter.

What I pulled out from my pocket was the Traveler’s Badge awarded as a reward for my earlier participation in a great battle.

The slim hexagonal plate, made of blue jadeite, has an engraving of an eagle, the symbol of the kingdom, in flight.

To my knowledge, this badge is essentially like a visa that proves my identity. However, ever since I received it by mail, it was always tucked in my pocket as there was no need to use it. This was the first time I was pulling it out.

Would this ID actually work? As I pondered this with a furrowed brow,

“Isn’t that a Traveler’s Badge?”

“I’m seeing it in real life for the first time.”

“Is the traveler you referring to, by any chance, Hassan, the representative of the Mars Guild who took down the thief guild?”

Three guards questioned me while looking at it.

“My name is Hassan of Samaria.”

I briefly responded, and the guards all grinned with white teeth under their helmets and exclaimed in surprise.

“Ho! Indeed, with your tall frame and fierce eyes! Now I understand the story about you fighting lions.”

“Thanks to you eliminating the Thief Guild, the underground has become so well-organized.”

“Are you here for a post-inspection? You’re more diligent than I’ve heard.”

The way they treated me felt like an ordinary person encountering a celebrity, causing tingling sensations at the tip of my nose and back of my knees, making me feel slightly off my feet.

I, a famous person – this feeling did hit home when I looked at it now.

Previously, I might have felt overly embarrassed, but as I was planning to build my reputation in the future, I felt rather pleased with this kind of situation.

I clenched my brows and tried to look serious so as to not reveal my mix of pride and embarrassment. A great warrior should probably have this sort of expression.

Then, I calmly continued,

“Patrol. It’s something similar. So, is there any problem with the underground market?”

“There are always plenty of issues. But now, the patrol can handle self-regulation to some extent. Thanks to you, our workload has increased.”

“Anyway, it was an honor meeting you.”

With that, the guards and I parted ways.

As they distanced themselves from me, muttering, “He’s taller than I expected,” and, “He looks strong,” I couldn’t help but think that today’s events might spread through their evening drinking chatter.

Having good relations with the officials could be beneficial in many ways. Who knows, they might even come asking for periodic underground patrols every week from now on.

The payments from official commissions might be relatively cheaper than other requests, but its advantage lies in the fact that it’s a steady, reliable job.

For this reason, most adventurers are eager to cozy up to bureaucrats or the guard units like the City Hall.

Since the income of adventurers has a streak of uncertainty – whether they’ll be able to keep going this path until they are 40 or 50 years old remains a question – this might be related to why some adventurers end up being recruited into higher ranks of the guard units or get staff positions within the Adventurer’s Guild.

In every world, a stable job is ideal.

*

Finding an information vendor in the underground market wasn’t too difficult.

However, they all shook their heads and claimed they couldn’t offer any information to Hassan of Samaria, who annihilated the Thief Guild.

Certainly, from their perspective, I am someone who threatens their livelihood. It’s understandable they’d harbor animosity towards me.

Indeed, quite a few troublemakers were stealthily following me. If I let my guard down, they might try to attack me from behind – the signs of clubs and daggers hidden in their coats were apparent.

“Go away, you bastards.”

When I let out a rather fierce growl, they retreated nervously without showing themselves.

“d*mn bastards.”

Since the underground market teems with all sorts of information, I thought it’d be easy to obtain information about the Goblin King. But it seems I’ve wasted half a day today.

While walking through the shadowy, dark underground streets for quite some time, my eyes fell upon a stall stuffed with peculiar bric-a-brac.

On the stall was also something that looked like squished and bent sheet metal.

This image stirred a memory within me, giving me newfound hope.

“Anyone manning the stall?”

Addressing the cluttered underground bazaar store, there was a slight rustling from the rear, hidden under piles of stuff.

“Who’s there?”

Soon, a one-eyed man with a bandana, who I’d seen before, gradually emerged.

The man looked at my face, his single remaining eye widening.

“Oh, who would’ve thought that Samodora’s little hero himself would grace us with his presence!”

It was hard to tell if this was sarcastic or sincere praise.

“Anyway, what brings such a busy man to this place?”

“I came to buy some information.”

“Information, huh. I see you’re being turned away by others too.”

The man smirked cunningly, as if he knew everything. His uncontrollable laughter matched the description “sneaky grin” to a T.

As someone who thrives in the underground world, he is sharp. Clearly.

The one-eyed man continued,

“It’s understandable. There must be plenty of folks down here who dislike you. After all, they were all hangers-on feeding off from big snakes’ leftovers.”

The man’s remaining eye cast a glance at the bent sheet metal.

“Hmph, though it’s none of my business. So what is it you want to ask? I’ll answer according to what I know. We’re both busy people, so we shouldn’t waste time with long stories.”

Indeed, a man with quick understanding. Speaking of handling other informants as “hangers-on” shows he has considerable experience. I like this.

“I want to know about goblins.”

“Goblins? In fact, as someone who roams the surface as an adventurer, you probably know more about goblins than me.”

“About the Goblin King – have you ever heard anything?”

“…”

The demeanor of the man, who just a moment ago was nonchalantly carrying on a conversation, changed. After scanning his surroundings with his one remaining eye, he spoke.

“This isn’t the place to talk about this. How about we head inside?”

Then, without another word, the one-eyed man turned his back to me and walked into the cluttered interior.

I followed him into the space hidden among stacks of junk, truly a closed-off area.

I was anxious, fearing that his hidden reinforcements might suddenly attack with mats and clubs, but thankfully there was no sign of that.

Seated on a random box, the man asked me,

“Where did you hear about that?”

“Just, you know…somewhere.”

“Of course, while working as an adventurer, one hears all sorts of stories about monsters. About the Goblin King, in fact, I have heard one story myself.”

Ah-ha.

So there was meaning in me combing through the underground for half a day today after all. It felt like finding a deeply buried milestone while wandering through the desert.

“But, I would like to receive payment for the information in the form of information. Is that alright?”

“Payment in information?”

“Well, there are a few things I would also like to ask you. It’s not particularly difficult. If you don’t like it, then forget it.”

“Then there’s no problem.”

In fact, I was concerned about how much the information would cost since I wasn’t familiar with the market rate.

If I don’t have to spend money, it’s good for me. Smirking knowingly with his single eye, the one-eyed man said in a chuckling voice,

“A story I’ve also heard.”

He set the tone, emphasizing that it was a “story he’d heard,” suggesting it should be taken with a grain of salt.

If the information turns out to be false for some reason, he’d essentially be saying he warned me beforehand, hence absolving himself of any fault.

“After the collapse of the underground market and the arrest of many people, quite a number of reformed thieves have embarked on the path of adventurers. It was from one of them that I heard this story.”

But with such an engaging lead, I became focused on listening to it. The man asked,

“Are you aware of the old shrine ruins beyond the west gate of Samodora?”

“Of course.”

“It seems there’s a newly discovered ancient site nearby that no one could find before. And it’s infested with a considerable number of green-skinned creatures.”

“Goblins…”

“That’s right, goblins. The notorious spawn of hell that crawl out from it. Anyway, during their exploration, while dealing with those creatures, they discovered a gigantic green figure sitting on an ancient throne deep within the ruins. It wasn’t an orc, nor an ogre, but something strange…”

I was sure this big figure was the Goblin King. Indeed, those baseless rumors we’d heard were not without foundation.

“Where is that ruin?”

“I don’t know exactly, but there’s a man who knows where it is.”

“Who’s that man?”

In response to my question, the man with one eye opened it slightly wide.

“Before I answer that, I’d like to ask you, Samaria’s Hassan. If you indeed defeated the leader of the Hydra, did you happen to find the Skeleton Key in their possession? The dream key that every thief longs for.”

Skeleton Key?

I immediately tried to recollect what he was talking about.

Then I remembered that I had picked up a small key from that man, who was the leader of the thieves.

I think I placed it in the drawer of Luna’s cabin. There was indeed a small skull-shaped ornament at the end of that key.

However, I decided to feign ignorance and ask back,

“What’s that?”

“You don’t know? They say it contains the treasures gathered by countless generations of thief bosses. Apparently, you really don’t know. So, maybe the rumors are just rumors after all.”

“An interesting rumor. Learn more about that key. If the information is useful, I’ll be willing to buy it.”

“Alright, I get it. Anyway, that’s all I can tell you. You should ask something from Half-Finger Carolde.”

“Carolde?”

“Carolde, huh?”

It seems like Carolde might be an adventurer who was once a thief and discovered the dungeon full of goblins.

“Where would I find him?”

“Most likely, somewhere in the western slums. But then again, Carolde’s mental state isn’t exactly stable, so whether he can communicate properly is uncertain.”

“Is there any particular reason his state is poor?”

“After escaping from the dungeon full of goblins, he seems to have lost his senses. He kept muttering something about how ‘hell has descended,’ very noisy.”

“Hell? Can you provide more detail on that story?”

“Is this really something worth calling information? Are you interested in nonsense?”

“Tell me quickly.”

“Indeed, you’re a curious person. He kept saying something along the lines of ‘hell has descended.’ It was in an extremely delirious tone. He said something about encountering a god deep within those ancient ruins or something.”

“God…?”

“For us who never see the sunlight, what’s this nonsense about gods? Maybe he saw the God of d*ath, Moros, just before dying.”

Is it a god?

I was reminded again of what Hippolyte had said – that this Goblin commotion might be related to Demigods, or Gods, who are the descendants of hell.

“Maybe I’ll come back next time.”

And with that, I left the underground and headed toward the surface. According to the one-eyed man, a man named Carolde might be at an inn near the west gate.

As it was not yet noon, I thought I could take care of business today, so I found the inn called Nymph’s Eye, where they said Carolde was.

The first floor seemed similar to other inns except that the atmosphere was unusually gloomy, almost unsettling.

Slick, slick.

In a corner of the lobby, there was a man drying cups with a dry towel. Is he the innkeeper? I decided to question him.

“Are you familiar with a man named Carolde?”

“Carolde? That fellow put the noose around the doorknob last night.”

“sh*t.”

A totally unexpected answer caused me to blurt out a curse. The innkeeper frowned deeply.

“To think someone would casually try to hang themselves in the inn. Luckily we caught him before he choked to d*ath. What a hassle.”

“Did he not d*e then?”

“He must not d*e. Fewer guests come to the inn these days. sh*t, it’s like you want to ruin my business, you terrible guy.”

After a long complain, the innkeeper stared at me like he was glaring.