As usual for this time of the day, the line inside the shop was breathtaking. If not for the other dominant half of the interior meant for customers being adorned with only gas lamps, and nothing else that could take up space—such as cushions or tables—it would have been unable to contain the number of people within it.

But that, and staying at the back of the line, was hardly Elmer’s problem for now. What bothered him the most was the smell oozing out from the paper bags of those who had purchased essence elixir’s base ingredients. The smell of the preserved snake’s heart which represented the Pathway of Desire.

It made his stomach tie a knot and push bile upward to his throat occasionally.

Very unpleasant, it was.

In between the shuffles he made with the line as it moved forward bit by bit, he always tried to pinch his nose indiscernibly. He could barely go on with the stuffy air of body sweat—which was worse inside the shop compared to the exterior for some reason—so he did not want to have to inhale a nauseating smell along with that.

Hmm… Elmer fell into his thoughts as his fingers covered his nose discreetly with another forward shift along with the line. It seems my resistance to such things has reduced significantly… Perks of using cologne and skincare products, I guess…

He then looked around, taking notice of how some of the people inside the shop were of a different action than he.

Granted, most were doing what he did with his nose, both with their hands and handkerchiefs. But still… Why were there those who weren’t?

It was the same the last times I came here too… Is it that they are just overly resistant, or maybe it’s something else…? I doubt it’s the former seeing as some people in exquisite dressings are here… If I could have my resistance lowered after just a few months of cologne usage, I doubt those who were born into it would be any different than I…

Well, it didn’t matter to him. Elmer shrugged his thoughts away. Whether the inhabitants of the shop were just holding their breaths in intervals, or doing something else to mitigate the nauseating smell produced by a specific ingredient, it was none of his concern. That which was his was now present before him.

It was his turn—finally.

“What’s the order?” Elmer heard the young but manly voice on the other side of the counter and its shade. And at that moment he quickly took out a ten mint note, rolled it into a cylinder, like it was a stick of cigarette, then pushed it halfway and mysteriously into the counter’s pass-through.

“I am here for something different, and I can pay quite finely for your cooperation.”

Elmer had once again wrapped his larynx with the essence of gray. Since he could use it for a lot longer at this point in time compared to when he went about his nightly exploits, he was not that much bothered about its dangerous after effects. This was because he was only using a bit of the essence currently, and in return the depreciation rate of his voice was lowered significantly. But even though it was in a very small amount, it still did well to mask his real voice and give a tad more oomph to his words.

The person behind the counter remained silent for a moment, then suddenly Elmer felt his senses tingle—seemingly one of the perks he’d gotten from ascending further into the Echelon ranks. At that instant, with his forefinger, he returned the money he’d pushed into the pass-through back to himself, and away from the attempted grasp of the individual who was on the opposite side of him.

“Can I take your attempt as you agreeing to cooperate?” Elmer queried after a scoff of amusement, his hoarse tone well relaxed.

It was not like he could even agitate it to a higher degree, seeing as he was barely keeping his throat from corroding as it was. Using only little of the essence to mask his voice only slowed down the rate of his larynx rotting away, it did not fully stop the effects from coming into play.

“I see…” The man depicted by Elmer to be young from their voice cleared his throat. “Then can I take your withdrawal of the money as you hoping for me to cooperate first before paying?”

Elmer could see the direction their conversation was heading towards. And for that reason he smiled sharply, but only for a second.

“I have a question.” He did not want to waste time, both because of himself and those lined up behind him.

“And I may or may not have the answer,” the man behind the counter replied instantly. “When you go to see a play at the theater, do you pay after the play or before?”

The corners of Elmer’s lips fell, and his brows went with them.

“That’s quite the way to relay a message.”

“I have a lot more ways for various individuals.”

Elmer snickered and reluctantly pushed the money held down by the tip of his finger back into the counter’s pass-through—this time completely.

“You’re a customer now, I suppose.”

The money disappeared from Elmer’s finger’s tip at those words, and he wasted no time with attempting to let loose his purpose for arriving here.

“First of all, are—”

A scoff overshadowed his words, at least it was the only one that took hold of his attention. The grumbles and grunts pouring from behind him was none of his concern. It was his turn on the line, so those behind him had to wait theirs like he’d done.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

But still, why had the person behind the counter scoffed? That thought made Elmer squint his eyes until he had an answer.

“First of all?” the man behind the counter said. “Well, I guess I can let you make use of that sentence. The ten mints was for opening my mouth after all. Depending on the type of request you present, I’ll give forth an appropriate fee.”

Elmer’s shoulders tensed up at that.

Is he going to price my request at an absurd amount…?! What…?! This is daylight robbery…! Hmm… Lamplight to be more precise…

He shook his head instantly, dispersing his joke like smoke swatted away by a lady’s hand fan, and came to a conclusion not to argue with the man behind the counter.

Well, I guess I’ll have to lose that ‘first of all’, and just go straight to the point… I’m not letting myself be charged for the same thing twice when a simple composition can serve the same purpose in one…

Elmer scratched away the new itchiness which had descended upon his chin.

“I have a paper of words written in the Enochian language. My request is to have them pronounced,” he laid bare his purpose for having wandered into the Black Market with a silent voice, all the while through his talk, the complaints behind him intensifying.

The man behind the counter fell quiet for a couple of seconds. It was almost for so long a while that Elmer started to feel anxious, until finally he spoke, though just a single word.

“No.”

Elmer’s shoulders dropped first, and shortly after his head jerked backward unnoticeably.

No…?

“Do you mind elaborating?” he asked, his heart pinching for two reasons.

The first because of the money he’d paid, and the other because of the obvious fact that the help with the language he was seeking was leaning toward not being found with the man who had taken his ten mints.

“I’m saying I cannot speak Enochian,” the man took a breather. “Nothing personal, but the pronunciation of the words of that language is only known to those who have learnt it. I am not one of them.”

Elmer’s heart shrunk in disappointment, and his hand, which had been readying the paper of his prayer in his trouser’s right pocket, retreated to the visor of his flat cap, tipping it to hide his pained expression as his head dropped forward.

Tsk…! If it was that easy to find someone who could speak and help me out then it would have been a godly occurrence… I should check out the shop I bought my bullets and divination materials from; I was planning on heading there after all… If the result is the same over there as well— Hmph… Until then…

As soon as another barrage of grumbles assaulted his ears, Elmer wasted no time swerving to his left, his hands placed back into his jacket’s pocket.

At least he’d already come up with his next course of action.

But just as he left the line completely, giving space to the man who was after him, the hoot of a chimp seemed to find its way past all the noise and enter into his ears. And after it came words that put a halt to his steps.

“Enochian, huh?” Those were what had come first, and they had been tinged with the mixture of a very strong accent and a soft, charming voice, almost childlike, one Elmer was both familiar and unfamiliar with. “I can help.”

The latter words had borne the greater of the shackles that had ceased Elmer’s movement. It was at their arrival had he turned to his left to glimpse a figure he remembered quite vividly.

It was a young man, one who currently stood second on the long line of customers.

He was dressed in a rough tunic of brown and a classic cotton pant of black. Over his feet was a flat sandal of the same color as his tunic with various buckles intertwining like threads around his ankle. And on his left shoulder, the being that had hooted before, a healthy infant chimp who was playing with the moist deep brown hair that fell like a mop over the young man’s head.

Did I hear correctly, or have I lost it out of desperation…?

Quickly discarding the surprise he’d had from coming across a familiar stranger, Elmer jumped into questioning his sanity, since the person he believed to have said something was not even giving him a look.

It was almost to the point that he almost felt like he was invisible to the young man.

But if anyone liked to confirm things, then it was him.

“Did you say something?” Elmer asked, and the casual face of the young man with a chimp for a friend finally turned to him.

“Yes. I did talk.” The man had a smile on his face—a soft one.

Elmer’s eyes widened and narrowed abruptly in split seconds at those words. And suddenly he felt his chest tighten in something akin to both relief and joy. Yet, the words that prowled through his mind were not ones related to what had brought him into the Black Market. They were something different.

“How did you hear my conversation?” he asked instantly, knowing that he’d done his utmost best to keep his discussion with the seller behind the counter below a whisper.

Had the medieval-styled man been listening to his words?

Why?

Someone sent to follow him?

Since when?

They’d met already way before. Had it been since then? That didn’t make any sense.

Was he the Ascender who had taken on his job?

Elmer gasped at the most recent of his thoughts in particular, but quickly subdued his tenseness.

He could not take action here, considering what he’d come to think of the likelihood of how the security of this place operated.

Also, he was not a hundred percent sure if his thoughts were right.

The man was not of the attire of the citizens of Ur. He was most likely from another city. If that was the case, then was this a coincidence?

That did not explain how the man had heard his words though. If the man had been the second when he’d been on the line he would have given him the benefit of the doubt. But the third, and with all the noise?

Wait… Is he an Ascender with a heightened sense of hearing…?!

A chuckle from the man put a full stop on Elmer’s tumultuous mind, causing his last deduction to be the final one he brought up.

“Your face gives me an idea of your thoughts. It’s not what you think, I promise. Oh! It’s my turn,” the man exclaimed, his thick accent palpable, as the customer at the head of the line finished his purchase. “Could you give me a minute? Yes. I just need to make my own buyings first.”

Elmer forced in a deep breath through all the stuffiness—making up for the air that he’d expended while he’d tensed up his body—and released a little amount to calm himself.

After a little over a second, he nodded, letting known his agreement to wait for the man to finish up his own arrangements first.

Elmer was of the mind that if he was going at this wrong then he would miss the perfect chance to get the help he was seeking. Once the man was done he would see what it was all about.

And with that he finally let go of the base of his revolver in his jacket’s left pocket which he’d held discreetly a few seconds ago as a form of defensive action.