Read Novel Full Chapter 677: Map (Edited!)
Chapter 677: Map (Edited!)
For a place inside Hell, it was surprisingly lively.
Michael let his gaze travel higher, past the stalls and crowd. That was when he noticed it.
Not all the buildings were temporary wooden structures or metal frames.
Some were properly built.
And on a few of those, plaques and banners hung in clear sight.
He saw the stylized flask and leaf emblem of an alchemy organization.
Next to it, a sturdier structure bore a crossed blade and hammer symbol, the mark of a weapon association branch.
"So some supernatural organisations have branches here too," Michael thought.
It was not surprising when he considered it.
Where there were resources, there was trade.
Michael adjusted his cloak slightly and continued forward, mind shifting back to his earlier plan.
Information first.
Michael scanned it briefly.
Map stall.
Michael’s eyes shifted in that direction.
On the eastern side of the main street, tucked between a talisman vendor and a stall grilling demon meat skewers, stood a booth.
[Comprehensive Hell Floor Maps]
[Routes, Zones, Racial Territories...]
Michael stepped towards the stall.
Behind the counter sat a middle aged man.
At first glance he looked ordinary, with weathered skin, faint wrinkles at the eyes, and grey streaks in his beard. But the moment Michael stepped close enough, a subtle pressure brushed against his senses.
It was familiar.
The exact kind of strength the academy’s assistant teachers radiated, the ones who stood at the peak of Rank 2.
Michael’s eyes narrowed faintly.
Awakener?
Cultivator?
He could not tell for sure, and honestly, he did not care much. He only needed one thing.
"Welcome," the man said without looking up. "What do you need?"
Michael placed a hand on the counter.
"I would like a comprehensive map of the first five floors of Hell."
The man did not respond.
Finally, his eyes lifted.
"You are new here."
Michael did not react. He had expected this much. No matter how much he wanted to blend in, to someone this experienced, he probably smelled like someone who had just stepped into Hell for the first time.
He gave a single nod.
"Is that going to be a problem?"
The man shook his head slowly.
"Not really."
"Just that..."
"Do you have money?"
Michael froze.
He let out a slow breath and shook his head.
"Trade by barter works here, right?"
The vendor gave a short approving nod.
"Barter works," he confirmed. "Most people prefer it. Money loses value fast in Hell."
Michael relaxed a little.
The vendor leaned forward slightly, folding his arms on the counter in a more businesslike manner.
"So then," he continued, his tone now professional, "what kind of map do you want? I have two types."
He reached beneath the counter and placed items down one by one.
"Surface maps," he said, tapping a thick rolled parchment tied with black string. "Hand painted. Good for quick reference."
Another item was placed down, this time a small crystalline slab glowing faintly with embedded runes.
"Projection crystals," the man said. "Shows terrain in three dimensions but it is expensive."
"So which one do you want?"
Michael looked between the parchment map and the glowing projection crystal.
The difference in quality was obvious.
The parchment was simple and durable.
Michael weighed his options for a brief moment.
Sometimes it was smarter to save resources and sometimes it was better to choose the best.
"I will take the second one," Michael said, tapping the projection crystal. "The crystal map."
As he spoke, he reached into his storage space and pulled out a Rank 3 spirit crystal.
One of the nine he had.
He placed it gently on the counter.
The middle aged man froze.
The lazy neutrality on his face collapsed. His eyes widened, then sharpened, then widened again. His posture straightened without him even realizing it.
"That..." the man whispered, voice a little dry, "is more than enough."
Michael tilted his head slightly.
"So it is acceptable?"
The man snatched the crystal with surprising speed, as if afraid Michael might suddenly take it back.
"Acceptable?" the vendor said with a stiff laugh. "Boy, this is worth several of those crystals. You could have bought half the stall with this."
Michael scratched the back of his head.
"...Ah."
The man no longer looked indifferent.
He pushed the projection crystal forward with both hands.
"Here. Take it," he said. "But I cannot just take a Rank 3 spirit crystal for a single map."
Before Michael could reply, the man bent down behind the counter again.
A moment later, he set several small objects on the table with soft clinks.
Round, glossy, each one pulsing faintly with a contained aura.
Ten in total.
Michael’s brows drew together.
"...?"
The man noticed the look and chuckled.
"These are demon cores," he explained. "Formed in the bodies of stronger demons. Level 2 to 3 and above."
Michael’s mind translated automatically.
Level 2 and 3 meant Rank 1 and up.
The vendor tapped one of the cores with a knuckle.
"These ten are from level 4 demons," he added.
Rank 2, then.
Michael’s eyes flickered.
From the terms the man used, it became clear.
Cultivator, not a class based awakener.
The man pushed the pile of cores closer to him.
"These are for you," he said. "Take them. I am not giving you back that spirit crystal, but I am not shameless enough to pretend a map costs that much."
Michael glanced at the projection crystal, then at the ten demon cores.
Useful.
Very useful.
"And remember this," the man said, his tone turning serious. "Demon cores are the main currency here in Hell. Spirit crystals, artifacts, materials... people will take those too, but cores are what everyone accepts without question."
He held up one core between two fingers.
"Pay attention to them."
Michael nodded once.
"I will."
"Even with these cores, it is still not enough for that spirit crystal," the middle aged man said. "So I will add something else."
The man still was not done.
He bent down once more, this time bringing up a thin stack of tightly bound pages. The cover was a dull, dark leather, worn at the edges.
He set it beside the projection crystal.
"This is a monster note," the vendor said. "A personal record. It covers the common and uncommon demon species on the first thirty floors, their habits, rough strengths, and general regions where they appear."
Michael’s attention sharpened.
"The crystal map has basic information," the man continued. "Main routes, danger zones, racial territories, and so on. But this..." he tapped the notebook, "is more detailed. Subspecies, nesting tendencies, migration habits during Hell storms. Things that are very annoying to learn on your own."
Michael was silent for a heartbeat.
Inside, though, he was very satisfied.
Demon cores, he could get himself.
He already planned to.
But a carefully compiled record of monsters and where to find them, written by someone experienced enough to reach at least the thirtieth floor and return alive, was something else entirely.
"This," the man said, pushing both the crystal and the notebook toward him, "is the least I can do or I will feel like a thief."
Michael reached out and rested his hand briefly on the leather cover, feeling the faint texture beneath his fingers.
"Then I will accept it," he said quietly.
For a single Rank 3 spirit crystal, this trade seemed a bit more fair.
It was a small win.
Michael gathered the projection crystal, the demon cores, and the monster note into his storage space before giving the man a polite nod.
"Thank you so much."
Without another word, he turned and began walking away, blending once more into the flow of people moving across the lively marketplace.
The vendor remained frozen behind the stall for several seconds, eyes locked on the direction Michael had gone.
Only after the youth vanished completely did he release a slow breath.
"...Systemic."
He looked down at the Rank 3 spirit crystal in his hand again. A crystal formed by pure Systemic condensation.
Perfectly shaped.
Pure in energy quality.
The kind that only appeared as loot drops in the Land of Origin.
And only awakeners could enter that place.
The man narrowed his eyes slightly.
"That boy... did he kill the creature that dropped this himself?"
Rank 3 spirit crystals were not produced by weak creatures.
The vendor tapped his finger lightly against his counter, thoughts spinning.
"Or was it given to him by someone? A mentor, a family head, a sect elder..."
His brow furrowed.
A person who could part with something like this so easily...
Either had more.
Or was strong enough to get more without worry.
The vendor’s gaze deepened.
"And his presence..."
"Not someone simple," the vendor murmured.
He leaned back in his seat, still staring in the direction Michael had disappeared.
Whether that youth killed a king rank creature himself or not, it did not matter.
Anyone with the power, resources, or background to casually use a System generated Rank 3 crystal as pocket change was someone he had no intention of offending.
The vendor let out a quiet sigh.
"Also, how can a man be so beautiful goddammit!"