Chapter Sixteen: Fair Prices for All

Ethan saw Ivy’s body being drawn into the mailbox, but from his own experience, the teleportation process was painless. After his vision blurred for a moment, he found himself standing at an unfamiliar dock. Several multi-masted sailing ships, their figureheads carved as griffins, were moored there. The sails were furled, and sailors on board were busy wiping down ropes and decks with cloths. Their faces, too, were obscured by various ornaments.

His gaze shifted toward the stern, where the caravans’ banner fluttered. The griffin emblazoned on the flag was lifelike, rippling gently in the breeze. In the Empire, the griffin symbolized nobility and honor, and it was also the emblem of the Lofik Consortium’s illustrious history. Starting from humble bankers, they amassed great wealth during the last century’s catastrophe and expanded their influence across politics, economy, propaganda, and religion. Their presence permeated every corner of the Empire, even in border towns like Creekwood.

People often say a town can do without a mystical organization, but never without a bank.

The dock was bustling with guests clad in exotic attire. Masks and masquerade masks were the most common decorations; some had their faces wrapped in bandages, while others painted themselves entirely in greasepaint, dressing as circus clowns. The diversity of costumes made Ethan realize many of these visitors were likely foreigners.

At the other end of the dock lay a small town shrouded in twilight. Guards from the Lofik Consortium, composed of knights and musketeers, stood watch at the entrance. Ethan noticed only a few guests approached the town; they had to present identification and undergo thorough searches before entry.

From the luggage they carried and the jewelry they wore, their distinguished status was obvious—undeniably VIPs well beyond level ten in spending. This was clearly not a place for someone like him, a zero-spender, and Ethan was acutely aware of this.

Yet no one noticed the constantly shifting, dissipating yellow lights quietly assembling the outline of a door—through which all the guests had arrived.

Ethan glimpsed the flow of magical energy.

This was a sophisticated teleportation spell set by a great mage, one even ordinary folk could use without crossing into the supernatural realm.

Teleportation magic was near the top of Ethan’s wish list. Just a single thought could transport one from one end of the city to the other instantly. For someone who had been a laborer in a past life, nothing was more enticing than this—imagine skipping the commute and getting an extra half-hour’s sleep in the morning!

Unfortunately, although both magicians and elemental sculptors wielded magic, their belief systems diverged sharply. Magicians worshipped the god of trickery and mostly hailed from ancient, mysterious families, having begun studying magic from childhood. For someone like Ethan, who came to magic later in life, it was already too late.

This was precisely why Ethan had been plotting to leave Creekwood.

The town library’s collection consisted mostly of popular science books, providing only a vague understanding of the supernatural path or types of dark creatures, without any practical guides. The only somewhat useful book he owned was “Pyromancy and Ice Arrows,” which he had acquired two years ago from a mysterious benefactor.

Ethan desperately needed books like “One Hundred Simple Magic Tricks,” but such works were usually stocked only in major city libraries, and sometimes one had to be part of institutions like the Containment Bureau just to gain access.

Perhaps, Fireplace Bay...

Ethan shook his head, quickly dismissing the thought.

Before she left, Ivy had warned him that once desire stirred in a place like this, it was the beginning of a descent into an abyss of no return. Fireplace Bay might have what he sought, but the age-old question remained.

But what was the price?

Everything remotely connected to the supernatural in this world soared in value.

Clearly, not everyone possessed a sense of danger. Even through the face-covering ornaments, Ethan could see many eyes filled with greed and fanaticism.

So the question was—

Where was Ivy?

Ethan waited nearly ten minutes on the dock but saw no trace of her. If he remembered correctly, the young lady had warned him not to roam around Fireplace Bay after using the teleportation spell.

When he considered asking passersby if they had seen Ivy, he froze.

Without being able to mention her name or accurately describe her appearance, how could he inquire about the whereabouts of a mysterious masked woman with a rebellious voice?

Could he really catch someone and ask if they had seen a defiant lady wearing a mask?

But soon, Ethan gave up even the thought of asking for directions.

He was not the only newcomer in Fireplace Bay. Ahead of him was an anxious young man clad in a cheap suit, frantically searching through the crowd, his emotions near collapse.

Passersby showed no sympathy and eagerly offered directions—for a price.

Three gold lions to ask for directions, five gold lions to help find someone, no bargaining allowed.

Why didn’t they just rob him?

Ethan silently questioned these mercenaries, knowing that in a place like Creekwood, a single gold lion could afford a comfortable month’s living.

The young man demonstrated the results of asking for directions in Fireplace Bay, making it clear that in this cursed place, one had to rely entirely on oneself.

Mugram—this was the shop owner’s name.

Though the young man lost sight of Ivy before finishing his explanation, the key information was conveyed: Mugram’s store was aboard one of these merchant ships.

Just by exploring these vessels, one might find her—perhaps she had already begun selecting items in the store.

Yet Ethan had clearly underestimated the dangers of Fireplace Bay.

The young man ahead of him looked pale as he boarded the first ship. Just as he sank into darkness and despair, a cheerful middle-aged man approached, his hearty laughter starkly contrasting with the cold indifference of previous strangers.

“Don’t worry, you’ll find her. This is Fireplace Bay—everything you want can be found here.”

He handed the young man a chilled beer. “Drink up! This will lift your spirits!”

Ethan saw the desperation in the young man’s eyes beneath his mask, like a drowning man clutching at a last straw.

The young man took the beer with trembling hands and drank it all.

He regained his confidence, his eyes shining once more.

“Thank you, thank you so much! I’ll never forget your kindness!”

“No need for thanks,” the middle-aged man smiled and shook his head, extending his right hand. “Just settle the drink—one gold lion. Thank you for your patronage.”

“Huh?”

“This brew is crafted by the master brewer from Windless City, using the finest hops and wheat. You can only savor such craftsmanship here in Fireplace Bay.”

Contrasting sharply with the cheerful smile, burly men emerged from the crowd, surrounding the helpless young man.

“Besides gold lions, we also accept collateral—eyes, blood, kidneys. Did you know a person can survive with just one kidney? If you don’t want to put up collateral, you can borrow over there at 45% interest—very reasonable.”