Zion's body stiffened, his eyes slowly widening.
"…What did you just say?" he asked calmly.
The one-eyed man looked up at him, completely unfazed.
"The Blue Mane Crew," he repeated. "They were wiped out last night by you."
Zion stared at the man in silence, unsure what to do now.
"How…?" he asked.
The man let out a quiet chuckle.
"Relax," he said, waving his hand. "You're not in any trouble. I was just surprised by how fast you brought their weapons here."
The one-eyed man leaned back against his chair, a flicker of amusement passing through his eye as he stared at Zion.
"I always figured it would end up like that for them," he continued. "They were a tight bunch—childhood friends, I believe. Anyway, all of them were far too greedy and loud."
Zion watched him closely, searching for any hint of hostility.
"And you're not bothered that I killed them?" he asked.
"Bothered?" the one-eyed man repeated. "No, not at all."
He leaned closer to Zion, his smile widening.
"I sold them those weapons, and three months later they're back on my table. If that isn't business, I don't know what is."
Zion raised an eyebrow. "Does this happen a lot?"
The one-eyed man stroked his chin while thinking.
"A lot? Wouldn't say that," he replied. "But it happens often enough."
"Honestly, some might even call it a miracle it doesn't happen more, considering at least thirty percent of the mercenaries here are shady."
'Thirty percent?' Zion thought, surprised. 'That high?'
While he was lost in thought, the one-eyed man reached beneath the table.
A moment later, he placed a small crystal chip on the surface and slid it toward him.
"Payment," he said simply. "Two hundred fifteen thousand credits, as agreed."
Zion glanced at it, then picked it up. After everything he'd gone through, this was his reward. He nodded with a small smile and tucked it away safely.
As he got up to leave, the one-eyed man's voice caught his attention once more.
"Still," he said, casually tapping a finger against the table, "there's something I'm curious about."
Zion didn't respond, waiting for him to continue.
The one-eyed man chuckled softly.
"The Blue Mane Crew wasn't small, and they weren't particularly weak. Yet the reports say nearly all of them died to the same two weapons."
He leaned back in his chair, chuckling once more.
"Did you really take them out all on your own?"
Zion paused for a moment, staring expressionlessly at the one-eyed man.
"That's right."
The one-eyed man raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the straightforward answer he'd gotten.
"Good," he said, a wide grin spreading across his face. "What a great surprise."
"I'd really like to know what kind of weapon pulled that off."
Zion remained silent, letting the one-eyed man chuckle to himself.
Finally, the one-eyed man let out a deep breath.
"Figures," he said.
He reached into his coat and pulled out a thin black card, sliding it across the table.
"If you ever end up with weapons like these again," he continued calmly, "bring them straight to me."
Zion picked up the card, glancing at it up close. "I'll keep it in mind."
The one-eyed man watched him pocket the card, smiling in satisfaction as he rose from his chair.
"Come on," he said, stepping past Zion. "I'll walk you out."
Zion gave a simple nod and followed as the man pushed through the small door once more. The noise of the mercenaries outside slowly returned as they stepped back into the storeroom.
A few heads turned their way, then quickly looked elsewhere.
At the edge of the counter, the one-eyed man stopped.
"Safe travels," he said casually. "And be sure to return soon with some… new weapons."
Zion smiled and nodded once. "I'll try."
The crooked smile on the man's face remained unchanged as he gave a nod in return.
Zion turned around, quickly disappearing among the masked figures as he made his way toward the entrance.
Once outside, he could finally breathe normally again.
'That was something,' he thought, quickly walking back toward the black market's exit. 'He knew far more than he let on.'
But the deal was fair, and he had the money he needed. 'Above all, I managed to get a contact within the black market.'
He couldn't help but wonder how differently things might have ended if the one-eyed man had wanted him dead, given both his strength and the information he possessed.
Zion kept walking as the narrow paths slowly opened into proper streets, lit by actual lampposts and lined with neon advertisements.
[Starting route to mercenary guild now…] Uriel's voice sounded in his head.
"Thanks," Zion muttered, taking off his mask as he merged into the flow of regular citizens.
As he drew closer to the Mercenary Guild, the streets became even busier than before. Despite that, Zion was lost in his own thoughts.
'Uriel, can you show me how much progress I've made toward D-rank?' he asked, curious.
[Of course, host,] Uriel replied, immediately projecting a holographic screen inside his vision.
[Neural synchronization rate: 50.2% → 63.7%]
[Muscle integration: 25.1% → 34.1%]
[Physique: 30.4% → 34.6%]
Zion's eyes widened at the results.
'It went up by that much… again?'
'If I fight like three more battles, the first and second stats will pretty much be completed.'
He scratched his chin as he stared at the physique stat. It hadn't increased much at all after each battle, which was a problem.
'I might have to spend credits on some items,' he thought, closing his eyes. 'But herbs and enhancers are expensive.'
As he finally neared the Mercenary Guild building, the number of mercenaries in the crowd increased, most of them walking quickly and talking with their teammates.
At first, everything felt normal.
Then something changed.
He noticed it in the people around him. Their steps slowed, conversations faded, and more and more people stood on their toes, staring ahead with strange expressions.
Zion frowned and lifted his gaze.
At first, nothing seemed out of place.
Then his face went pale.
Several massive ships hovered behind the Mercenary Guild, each painted in a familiar white-and-gold color.
"Sovereignty ships," Zion whispered, clenching his fists.
Countless questions flooded his mind, none of which he had answers to.
[Host needs to calm down,] Uriel's voice echoed in his head. [There are several ships present, which makes it very likely they are performing some kind of mission.]
Zion nodded, gritting his teeth as he turned away.
Suddenly, the crowd erupted into noise as a bad feeling surged through his body.
"Citizens, remain where you are."
A warm female voice echoed behind him.
Zion stopped and glanced back, spotting a Sovereignty officer a dozen meters away, clad in pristine white-and-gold armor.
"Please, everyone, present your IDs to make this process go faster," the same voice said.
Only one thought ran through Zion's mind.
'Fuck.'