Chapter 113: The Contact
Lavoisier City was vast. Although it couldn’t compare to the bustling commercial hub of Golden Griffin City, considering its humble origins as a small border town, its current state was impressive.
The air wasn’t exactly fresh, filled with a sweet, cloying aroma of potions. Street lamps and shop signs, fueled by potions, emitted wisps of colorful smoke, creating a hazy, almost psychedelic atmosphere.
Abyss was fascinated by the city’s unique sights. The residents’ attire and lifestyle were unlike anything he had seen elsewhere on the continent. Novel contraptions, powered by potions, lined the streets, enticing customers. Abyss didn’t recognize them. Honestly, his knowledge of mechanics was rudimentary at best. He knew more about alchemy, but his expertise wasn’t focused on applications for the living. He vowed to explore these fascinating devices when he had the time and money.
Santos entered the city ahead of the caravan. After waiting for half an hour, he finally returned, accompanied by a man.
The man was lean and wiry, wearing a black fedora and the Eastern Empire’s fashionable tight-fitting clothing. However, unlike others in the Empire, his clothes seemed to be made of a material that was a hybrid of leather and rubber, shiny and brightly colored, setting him apart from the ordinary folk outside Lavoisier City.
“You must be Miss Veronica. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Winkler, a member of the Black Hats Gang. I’ll be handling your potion business.”
The man, Winkler, tipped his hat and bowed to Givia, his eyes darting around nervously. “If you’d like to conclude our business swiftly and return home, please follow me to our meeting place. I’ve prepared tea and refreshments.”
Givia didn’t follow immediately. She frowned slightly. “I was expecting… more representatives from your gang.”
“Ah, Miss, you see, our boss is a cautious man. We’re not familiar with your background or connections, so he won’t meet you personally, nor will he make a grand gesture. He sent me, his most astute and well-connected subordinate, to handle this transaction. After all, you wouldn’t want to attract unnecessary attention, would you?”
Givia was slightly displeased, but she couldn’t risk exposing her identity. If her status as a princess were revealed, no gang would dare do business with her—supporting a king’s open enemy, even a deposed one, was a risk they wouldn’t take.
“Very well. But you must ensure a smooth transaction,” Givia said.
“Of course, of course, my lady,” Winkler said, his smile ingratiating. “As long as you can provide the necessary funds, I guarantee you’ll receive all the potions you require.”
Abyss observed the smooth-talking man for a moment, then shook his head and retreated to the back of the caravan.
Winkler noticed this but didn’t mind. The green-eyed boy clearly wasn’t the leader of this group. Judging by everyone’s demeanor and positioning, the real decision-maker, the one who controlled the purse strings, was the busty beauty before him.
The caravan followed Winkler, navigating the city’s labyrinthine streets. Lavoisier City had expanded organically from a small town, its growth evident in the haphazard layout of its streets and alleys. They followed Winkler through smoke-filled streets, up and down steep slopes, and across several bridges, finally reaching their “meeting place.”
It was a tavern, seemingly unremarkable. A sleepy male halfling sat on a stool beneath the dimly lit potion-fueled sign.
The halfling, seeing Winkler, opened his half-closed eyes and stood up. However, even standing, he was still half the height of a human, requiring everyone to look down at him. “Hmm? Customers already?” he asked, looking at Winkler.
“Of course. I’ve found a big client for the gang. They’re buying a lot of potions,” Winkler said, gesturing towards Givia. “See this lady? Don’t be rude. Open the door!”
The halfling, as if remembering something, smacked his forehead and quickly opened the tavern door. “Welcome, esteemed guests. If you’re here for business, please proceed to the basement. You can park your wagons in the back. It’s discreet, I assure you. Your privacy is guaranteed.”
Givia wasn’t thrilled about conducting business in a tavern, but she couldn’t afford to act like a princess or a rebel leader. She followed Winkler, who kept flashing her suggestive smiles, into the tavern.
The tavern was located in a secluded area, surrounded by a few dilapidated shops with little business. The tavern itself was mostly empty, only a few dwarves and halflings smoking pipes and drinking.
Leona, walking behind the group, tugged at Abyss’s sleeve. “Abyss, I smell potions, a lot of them.”
“They must have a large stash here, ready for sale,” Abyss nodded, also noticing the strong aroma of various herbs. It seemed Winkler intended to conclude the deal quickly, load the potions onto Givia’s wagons, and have them leave the city immediately.
Such urgency wouldn’t be necessary for ordinary potions, but Givia was purchasing military-grade potions, which were strictly regulated by Eastern Empire law and could only be acquired through the black market. Discretion was paramount.
A door led from the tavern’s kitchen. Winkler opened it, revealing a passage. He led them down the stairs, illuminating the basement with a potion lamp.
The sight that greeted them was impressive. A large table stood in the center of the basement, surrounded by chairs. The rest of the room was filled with crates, emanating a strong herbal scent.
“Welcome, everyone. I respect your time, so let’s be efficient. We’ll agree on a price, you take your potions, and you’re on your way. I’ve already taken care of the city guards. They’ll turn a blind eye to your cargo.”
“Alright, let’s hear your price,” Givia said.
“We have one thousand bottles of Emergency Healing Potions, three thousand bottles of Strength Potions, three thousand bottles of Skin Hardening Potions, and three thousand bottles of Rapid Reaction Potions. Ten thousand bottles in total, all military-grade. Two million imperial coins,” Winkler said with a smile, gesturing towards the mountains of crates. “We can’t sell them individually. It would be difficult to find suppliers for smaller quantities.”
“That’s four times the market price,” Santos said, frowning.
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