Black Market

[ Race: Lizardman / ATK: 34 / STR: 42 / DEX: 90 / SPD: 24 / DEF: 72 / INT: 2 MANA:0 ]

Under the scorching heat, the constant beating of the hot winds, and the annoyance of the sun's rays-- Ayama struggled against a humble lizardman, not because he was weak, but because he was ill-equipped to fight in its home turf environment.

[ Name: Akiro Hiroto / Age 18 / Job: Assassin / Sub Job: Gunman ]

[ Lvl 36 ] [ Lvl 36 ] [ ATK: 196 / STR: 73 / DEX: 183 / SPD: 145 / DEF: 18 / INT: 100 / MANA: 210 ]

Thanks to the desert environment and their seclusion in the middle of nowhere, Akiro could let his guard down, and dedicate his entire focus to slaying lizardmen. "I've learned new things: One - That national treasure of a potion did not exactly raise my stats, but it raised the levels of many, but not all, of my skills. Two - Active skills disappear from my status when in use ."

Akiro ducks, dodging the club of a lizardman and sidestepping with a leaning body, slashing upwards diagonally after that with his dagger in his right. "Three - Active skills are merely extensions of a living being's ability to use their bodies, therefore are much like a pre-programmed sequence of action to perform a task, and passive skills are my body's upgraded features."

"With this in mind, although I can recreate the same movements and achieve the same result-- Why then should skills be used? Using a skill makes it so that it is perfect one hundred percent of the time--" Twirling the blade in his hand, Akiro switched from reverse-grip to standard form; and the dagger on his left pierced the Lizard's belly. "[Square Cut]!"

"---At the cost of increased fatigue or the cool-down period." At the activation of his skill, Akiro slashed outwards with his two daggers, and upwards with the left and downward with the right-- forming a square, butchering the lizard. "Lastly, for the fourth, I can acquire skills because of my passive Talent [ Weapon Master ]"

[ Gunman's Manual / EX ] [ Appraisal / D ] [ Stealth / D ] [ Weapon Master / D ] [ Appraisal / A ] [ Sprint / F ] [ Radar / E ] [ Disguise / S ] [ Square Cut / F ]

"Phew!" Ayama gasped, wiping the sweat from his forehead, "There certainly a lot of hunting grounds around here. How many does this make?" He points at the lizard he just felled.
"That would make it thirty." Akiro huffed as he surveyed their surroundings, pointing at the one he just killed after "Was that the last one?'"
Ayama sighed, stabbing the ground with his sword and leaning on it, "I'm not sure, but I wouldn't mind calling it quits right about now. We're tired and almost out of water."
"Did you level up at all?"
"Once, I'm level 36 now."

Akiro nodded at his assessment, they were indeed running low on supplies, and not to mention, it was nearing noon-- the peak of the sun's intensity. "Dying off a heatstroke is one pitiful way to go. Let's hurry up on harvesting the leather, and don't forget to grab each pair of fangs from each kill! We're going to need proof of subjugation!"

When they returned to the city, they immediately headed for the adventurer's guild. There, they were quick to submit the quest paper and proof of their subjugation. Akiro handed the clerk the pouch of fangs and placed the thirty lizardman's skins.

"If you were to sell those to me," The desk clerk hummed, using a magnifying glass to analyze and scrutinize the leather, dragging his hands along the leather. "I could give you about seven thousand per piece." he gulped, "This is by far the best and most consistent sets I've ever seen- y-you-- u-uhh-- are really good with a blade, sir."
"I'm not planning on selling them to you," The raven-haired of the two hissed, "I only needed an estimate."
The clerk ran his hands around his neck, loosening his tie for at least a bit more breathing room, "A-Ah, I-I understand. H-Here! The money."

The pouch was hefty, most probably from the gold coins inside. Akiro and Ayama would admit, that in comparison to the weight of paper bills, feeling the gravity of gold behind the currency itself had its merits in the satisfaction department.

"Whoa~ What rank was that quest again?" Ayama grinned, holding the pouch close to his person, cradling it with care.
"C-Rank," Akiro replied, scribbling down a small notepad he had purchased from Paytun, "With this money, we're in the green for about a week-- future supplies and other expenditures included."

Ayama beamed at that statement as he no longer had to suffer through that march again because now they would spend their own coin. Kaiser could've been much nicer though, he could've given them a heads-up at least-- but he digresses, the lesson behind it well-learned.

"So I'm guessing the lizardmen-skin is for something else?" Ayama whistled happily. "What about 'that'?-- the one you said this morning."
Akiro tucked the notebook away, rolling his eyes as he hurried after Ayama. "Let's worry about that after we eat and rehydrate."
"I have no objections."

Ayama's mood only later about an hour and a half, his smiling attitude dissipating like smoke as he descended into where Akiro lead him to the detour he spoke of. The Blonde glared at him, "Why the hell are we in the sewers?!" He glowered, even as he tried to keep the lunch he just ate inside his stomach.

"Don't be such a baby!" Akiro shot back, earning another glare from the furious one, "Besides! We're here on business, just bear with me."

Ayama frowned, but he continued, pinching his nose. They traversed the endless maze of the city's water-less sewers. Due to the hot climate of the desert, waste produced by humans did not exactly flow well, even underground, thus solidifying into sludge with a stench so putrid that it leaves masks useless-- or somewhat ineffective.

Not only that but they were dressed in incredibly baggy cloths, ones worn by the locals, which were effective in keeping the heat away from their bodies; but due to their bodies not being accustomed to the climate-- they were roasting inside of them. The heat, the lack of ventilation, and the stench-- Ayama was this close to losing his mind.

But alas, Akiro stayed true to his word, and when they turned the corner, they arrived at a checkpoint set in place. It was a door at the end of a four-way junction of sludge, with two large men dressed in light clothes-- their arms bare, and decorated with tattoos of the local language-- holding scimitars half their height.

When they saw the two cross the corner, they raised their hands in a motion for the two to halt. "पासवर्ड?" They asked in unison, their voice deep and serious.

Akiro inhaled, answering them in their language, "चांदनी" he said, his pronunciation and accent correct and unintelligible native. The two guards stepped aside, revealing the door, and the two passed through unhindered-- tricking them.

"This place feels strangely illegal." Ayama chuckled, looking up at the high ceiling. They were definitely underground, deep enough that the ceiling was entirely made of natural stone, instead of sandstone.

That was not exactly the most impressive thing, however, but what the large cave held within. It was a town, about one and half times the size of the central section of the city, with a few houses being carved from the very walls itself-- a few buildings and dwellings hoised and carved up in the air by the sheer size of the stalactites hanging from the ceiling.

It was a terrarium, bustling with its own eco-system, with its inhabitants wearing slightly less clothing because of the cooler temperatures. Despite being enclosed from all sides, it was bright and well-lit from the lights kept on by the residents, and not one shadow can be found in the ceiling because of this.

Akiro turned to Ayama, whose mouth was open and in shock, "Welcome to the black market!"