Chapter 57

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Chapter 57: White Animal Ear Girl

The first group of adventurers set off that night, following Douglas on the path to search for gold.

Missing Teeth Larry was not among them. He was still concerned about things like his position under Spike’s command (three levels down), and his romantic interest who worked as a prostitute. The adventurers and the most reckless outlaws headed towards the blocked southeast corner, while the remaining onlookers whispered among themselves, waiting for their return or news of their demise.

The group returned on the third day, empty-handed when they left and with a few things on their way back. The onlookers swarmed around, but surprisingly didn’t hear any news. The returners claimed that the details from that side had to remain secret for now, even the loose-lipped ones became mysteriously silent, not even a few drinks could get an answer out of them. Some wanted to interrogate them, but Spike warned that anyone who targeted these smugglers would face consequences. His words carried weight in Lame Leg Street.

Many knew that Douglas had a hand in this and passed on a generous reward from the southeast corner. The amount of the gift rumored to be increasing, who would spend that much on a bunch of disposable lives? Certainly no one, so the bill was destined to be paid with the items they carried. Were these items really so valuable? Were they worth taking risks under Spike’s threat? People whispered, discussed, speculated, and debated endlessly. The news quickly spread through Lame Leg Street, even reaching the least interested individuals.

Smuggling required more than just getting past the defenses. The scoundrels of Ribe Lake had no proper sales channels, everything had to be done by themselves. The gold miners started their trading under numerous scrutinies, only a few regretted selling their goods after days of no success because most ended up making a substantial profit.

There was no clear line dividing the shadows of Ribe Lake from other places, as long as they could evade the police batons, avoid being beaten or arbitrarily convicted, the residents of Lame Leg Street could come and go freely. Previous mayors’ efforts to clean up Lame Leg Street were like kicking a mouse’s nest, only spreading the pests to other corners of the city, which the current city manager chose to ignore. No one dared to approach the wealthy neighborhoods, where guard dogs and security guards kept a close watch on any suspicious individuals. This area was very dangerous for them, and far from Lame Leg Street.

Between the busiest and most run-down areas of Ribe Lake, there is a wide buffer zone. The common people of Ribe Lake live in this buffer zone. Their lifetime earnings may not match the luxurious spending of the rich in one night, but as long as they work hard enough, they don’t have to worry about affording three meals for their families. Here, average people dream of getting rich overnight. Here, people have some spare change in their pockets, hesitating when shopping, getting excited over a few coins discount.

This is the ideal market for smugglers.

When the streetlights come on, the mice scatter around, using every trick in the book for their trades, each taking a different route. Of course, weapons should be kept hidden. Even the toughest-looking folks slightly change their appearance, smearing mud on their scars, making themselves look like dirty wanderers rather than thieves waiting to rob. Some go to bustling streets, where flower sellers, paperboys, and street performers gather. At dusk, people finishing their day’s work often glance at shops along the way. Vendors from Lame Leg Street squeeze between the craft stalls, sit on the ground, and display their trinkets.

Wicker mice are scurrying everywhere, glass birds climbing ladders and gliding down from the top, metal baboons pounding drums, their noise accompanying the sellers’ shouts. These toys are clever and surprisingly cheap, popular among families with children. City toys are usually displayed in expensive glass cabinets and parents with average finances often wait a year to buy one; now most feel they’ve struck a good deal. Once they realize the number of toys is decreasing instead of increasing, the remaining items are quickly sold out.

Some people choose door-to-door sales, picking a later time, right after people are done with cooking and eating, without being too late to disturb people getting ready for bed. During this time, people are mostly idle and bored enough to listen to salesmen exaggerate. Items sold during this time are usually related to households, like a fragrant herb that eliminates odors or a potted plant that helps with relaxation and sleep in the bedroom.

"Easy upkeep" is quite important among ordinary households. Some focus on practicality, while others try to mimic wealthy families by decorating with fancy flowers and plants. Different strategies are needed for different people. Those who used to scavenge or beg in this area can judge many families’ temperament from their past experiences and tailor their approach accordingly.

Some people gather at informal night markets, trading items that are cheap but of dubious quality, such as strange relics claiming to be from ancient sites, untested and unsafe potions, or cheap jewelry that may be stolen or fake. This place serves as a semi-underground market open to ordinary people, attracting gamblers who are overly confident and dream of getting rich overnight. Smugglers of magical potions come here with a different style, not disguising themselves as well-behaved citizens, but rather dressing strangely.

They paint strange patterns on their faces and arms with potions, not knowing what they are depicting, but hinting at representing a certain ethnic heritage or a scar obtained from an adventure. They style their hair uniquely, wear all sorts of accessories, claiming to be exotic outcasts. In the past, before Aryan became a unified empire, this style was called exotic. Now, foreign styles are less effective, so a touch of Hybrid style doesn’t hurt. Few people in the small market react much to this. Most novice gamblers breathe quickly at such hints, feeling they are about to strike a deal.

These charlatan sellers have no idea if the potions they sell are effective; they just boast about them. If the potions have no effect, they blame the buyers for being gullible. Yet those who buy one or two potions become repeat customers, exceeding the sellers’ expectations. Rumors spread about the fabricated origins of the potions, leaving many regretful for not buying, saying, "Let me know next time there’s stock!"

The first batch of goods quickly turned into real money. Soon, Douglas reappeared to collect payments. The residents of Lame Leg Street had no money, they had relied on credit to get the goods before. Some people hid and kept all the profits from selling the goods for themselves, which was not surprising at all in Lame Leg Street. In fact, onlookers were quite amazed that there was only one person who chose to keep all the profits and run away.

"These young troublemakers seem to be itching for trouble," Spike said with a fake smile, making a gesture towards Douglas. However, Douglas shook his head and said, "No need, they will regret it themselves."

Missing Teeth Larry stood in the room, not yet sure what they would regret. But that didn’t matter to him, as Douglas was already organizing a second smuggling operation, recruiting more people to replace those who had run away.

Larry quickly signed up.

It had been a while since the first smuggling operation, and the participants were not as secretive as before. Rumors about the southeast corner were spreading, some true and some false, but overall not worse than the local Lame Leg Street. The success of the first batch of smugglers made many envious, and more people signed up than needed.

Now Larry was part of the gold rush. The night before, he tossed and turned in bed, dreaming of being wealthy, well-fed, well-dressed, and going to the theater with his loved one. At other times, he dreamed of being caught by the police and hanged. The next morning, with huge dark circles under his eyes, he nervously thought about the safety of the channel Douglas had mentioned. How were they going to cross the border? Thoughts of action movies raced through Larry’s mind, while Douglas started handing out metal cards and calling everyone with a card to board the carriage.

A super huge carriage, pulled by six horses, colorful and noisy, just as eye-catching as Douglas himself.

Only blind and deaf people would let this thing pass through customs, Larry thought in horror. Unfortunately, it was too late to get off the thief ship once boarded, but the people around who had participated in the previous operation seemed quite calm. Larry anxiously sat on the carriage, watching nervously as the carriage stopped at the checkpoint leading to the southeast, and with pounding heart saw Douglas show something to the sentry, and smoothly pass through.

This trip… was quite ordinary.

Larry imagined lots of exciting adventures, but the guards let them through without a word. He thought he would see a mysterious person in the southeast corner, but it turned out to be a "border market" (what’s that?), where everything was priced clearly and exchanging was easy. He expected chaos in the southeast corner, but everything was neat and normal – well, not everything.

The market was filled with goods of all kinds, and people of different heights. Short people were everywhere, looking similar in their clothing styles. It wasn’t a random foreign look, but something coordinated. At a stall where potions were sold, a chubby woman with pointed ears caught Larry’s attention. Larry wondered if he was in a black market, meeting a fellow trickster.

"This is your pass."

A staff member handed him a processed metal card with intricate patterns that Larry couldn’t read – he didn’t know how to read anyway. Everyone trading (smuggling, although the place seemed so normal that Larry almost forgot it was smuggling) had such a card, serving as identification, purchase records (what’s credit limit?), and a pass to the area.

A female voice announced brief instructions, like keeping things here secret temporarily, returning the principal after a trade, and then receiving the commission. Larry had thought of selling information for a good price before coming, but upon hearing this, he thought otherwise. It was strange, as if he was in a different atmosphere, feeling the words made sense and negating any contrary thoughts.

Most people nodded in agreement, sharing Larry’s feelings. The person next to Larry seemed to suddenly realize something and showed a hint of defiance. "What if someone doesn’t follow these rules?" this bold person asked Douglas, "Would Spike really take their heads off?"

"The disobedient person’s ID card would be canceled," Douglas replied, "meaning they lose the right to come here."

"But for many of us, the value of the goods in hand outweighs a card," the bold one remarked.

"Compared to our future, the goods are not as valuable," Douglas chuckled.

"The people who came with you are all having a tough life." The prickly person persisted, "Forget about the future, the most important thing in our lives is not money."

"Indeed, all of you were struggling when you arrived." Douglas shrugged, jumped onto the horse, "But when you are here – as long as you don’t give up the opportunities in your hands – things will be different."

He sounded so sure, as if the ordinary town in front of them was a magical place where dreams could come true and lives could change. Larry remembered talking to him about this on a drunken night, at a time when he wasn’t sure if he should come. "You speak so highly of it," Missing Teeth Larry mumbled, "You speak so highly of it, what have you gained from there?"

Douglas didn’t seem to be extremely wealthy, he wasn’t dressed in fancy clothes, wasn’t riding a grand horse, and didn’t have a beautiful woman by his side. Larry’s question sounded like a challenge, his voice was almost a whisper, but Douglas turned around, showing a much more sincere smile than usual.

"Everything," he said, "Everything I have ever dreamed of."

So Larry came, picking up as many items as his credit limit allowed. If these things couldn’t be sold, he wouldn’t be able to pay off the money even if he sold himself in parts. He never thought he could make a living by trading, but luckily he caught a good time, with goods from the southeast in high demand.

Everyone buying goods for the first time only had a small credit limit, even if they sold out all, the total number entering Ribe Lake was just a drop in the ocean. The hunger marketing strategy left many intending buyers drooling, they might spend one or two months pondering whether to buy a certain item at their doorstep, but when the smugglers reappeared after a week, they rushed forward joyfully, happily paying money, feeling lucky.

The customers in the small black market were the most enthusiastic, there were several times more people wandering here than before, the smartly dressed smugglers even thought they were being caught by official scouts or troublemakers, almost turning back as soon as they showed up. The crowd quickly stopped them, smiling faces that were far from beautiful bloomed one by one, flattering enough to give people goosebumps.

"That, that medicine!" The middle-aged balding man gasped, just broke through the crowd to the front, his money-poking hand aimed at the face of the drug dealer, "I’ll buy ten, no, I’ll buy them all!"

"I bid twice!" shouted the person wearing a mask to cover their face.

"Three times!"

Aphrodisiac is a truly remarkable product that has gained widespread fame for revealing a certain aspect of human nature. Many people who buy the medicine for personal use choose to remain anonymous, while middlemen and brothel owners’ henchmen bid openly with excitement in their eyes. All Aphrodisiac sold out on the first night, and the remaining few were even auctioned off, nearly causing a fight. "Do you know who my boss is?" shouted the bidder, his face red and veins bulging, exchanging information that made intelligence traders laugh uncontrollably.

The hemostatic medicine sold in the southeast corner was very effective but scarce in quantity, not as popular as the second most sought-after item. Following Aphrodisiac was a green mud-like beauty herb that claimed to make skin "radiant, smooth, glowing, and delicate as a flower," and promised to "extend life, preserve youth, and keep you looking young," though the effects were not immediate. Many believed the sales pitch of the sellers, making the smugglers who seized the opportunity flourish with envy from those who missed out.

Larry was clueless about the market trends, having sold out the medicines in a flash, which left him with a headache over the remaining items. "I’m not cut out for this," he complained to his lover, revealing his toothless mouth, "Do I look like a salesman to you?"

"You’re so clueless!" scolded Michelle, "Don’t spend the money from selling medicines, go buy clothes first!"

Buying a whole set of clothes, pants, and shoes was a considerable expense, almost draining all the money earned from selling medicines, leaving Larry feeling distressed. Michelle practically dragged him to purchase the clothes, then took him to observe how the businessmen in carriages walked. When Larry put on the new outfit, he walked confidently like a nobleman towards the gallery, and even the guard who had kicked him multiple times didn’t recognize him. The guard opened the door for him respectfully, making Larry feel a surge of pride as he walked in.

This new outfit allowed Larry access to places he previously couldn’t enter, and when he knocked on doors again, the housewives were less likely to chase him away with a broom. Positioned above the just-fed commoners, the slightly affluent and the curious were eager to try new items bought from him – mainstream goods were considered reliable, but military priorities placed restrictions on many items, leading those with means to welcome roaming salesmen of gray area products without hesitation.

The second windfall was used to buy clothes for Michelle. "These clothes aren’t my style, but I bought them to make more money!" Michelle emphasized repeatedly. She chose a respectable outfit and paired it with high heels she had bought earlier. Larry didn’t know when she had purchased the shoes, but he knew Michelle often admired the women passing the bridge on their way to the theater when she had free time, marveling at their hats, clothes, and shoes.

The next evening, Michelle asked Larry to change back to his previous tank top, while she dressed in a different way. She approached Larry’s stall as if they were strangers, engaging in conversation about his products. Sometimes she came when there were no customers around, as stalls with customers tend to attract more people. Other times, she came when customers couldn’t decide, saying, "Your items are really great!" pretending to be a previous customer and praising heavily. Finally, she acted like she was going to buy the remaining items on the stall, and usually at this point, real customers would take out their wallets first.

They kept moving around and quickly sold most of the things they had, making more money than Larry had ever had in his life. Michelle counted the money happily, full of enthusiasm about making money, even talking in her sleep about their next plans ("We can go buy more things to sell elsewhere, say we got them from the southeast corner…"). While she was busy planning the next steps, Larry took the initiative to buy her a hat, remembering how she had stared longingly at a similar style before.

This item was as expensive as his clothes, and Michelle was shocked for a long time upon seeing it, scolding him for being a wasteful fool. "I already had a plan!" she said. However, as soon as she started hugging him and crying heavily with mascara running down her face, Larry thought she must be quite happy after all.

A few days before their third smuggling operation, someone stopped Larry and Michelle.

It was a well-dressed middle-aged man with neatly trimmed beard, even holding a fashionable cane popular among wealthy merchants. He stopped Larry and Michelle, who were busy with another sales pitch, interrupting Michelle’s sales talk and said directly, "I have been watching you for a while."

Larry became nervous all of a sudden, initially thinking the man might be one of Michelle’s previous clients, but Michelle was also nervous and confused. The man continued, "Lately, there have been many traders coming from the southeast corner. Although the mayor never lifted the ban there, it seems the road to Red Gum County is no longer restricted…"

He rambled on using words they didn’t understand, Larry looked to Michelle for help, who tried to remain calm but had no plan – even though Larry thought highly of her intelligence, Michelle, born on Lame Leg Street, didn’t know any more than him. They exchanged looks, and just as they were about to finalize their escape plan, the middle-aged man finally stopped talking.

"I thought you two were different from the others, but it seems you are just pawns," he said grumpily, realizing his previous showing off was pointless, "But getting back to the point, I want to join."

"That’s not up to me," Larry said stubbornly.

"You just need to pass on a message for me," the middle-aged merchant said, "I have what you need."

Trading with the southeast corner is not just about selling goods for money. The border market has a long list posted, showing what the southeast corner is willing to buy for money.

Larry couldn’t read the words on the form, he could only see the very large numbers written next to each item, which were so big that they were frightening. The top item had many zeros! This shocked many smugglers, as they ambitiously memorized the list, ready to make money from both sides. There were staff nearby who would read out the contents of the form, but Larry didn’t bother listening. Firstly, he had a bad memory, and secondly, he felt that being able to sell what he had was already a stroke of luck, so it was better not to hope for too much.

Clearly, the merchant in front of him had heard some news from somewhere. What was on the list? Larry couldn’t remember any of it, but he recalled Douglas saying that he could find trading partners and make some money.

On his third journey, Larry brought along middle-aged merchant Anthony and Michelle, who insisted on joining. With her around, Larry had nothing much to do. Michelle wandered around the market, drawing a bunch of symbols in a notebook that only she understood, and chatting happily with a little devil named Alan. Anthony negotiated the trade with the people from the southeast corner and came back early. He looked extremely pleased, even chatting about business experience with Larry, who didn’t understand a word.

"We will make a big amount of money out of this," he said contentedly, "but if you ask me, no business can make as much as ‘that one’, do you know what it is?"

Larry shook his head without much interest.

"Slaves," Anthony said, tapping his cane on his palm, "especially ‘that kind’. It’s a pity, if my funding hadn’t run into problems, I would have bought the latest batch, with five of them being top-notch quality, with just a small turn…"

Thud.

Anthony didn’t finish speaking before his cane fell down. A gust of wind blew past Larry, waking him from his drowsiness.

Someone rushed over so quickly that it seemed like they appeared out of thin air. She grabbed Anthony by the neck, lifting him off the ground with her arm straight and her claws digging into his neck, causing blood to flow.

The girl with white animal ears spoke slowly, "What were you just saying?"