My immature conception of the Underworld was withering away. What I've seen made me sick to my stomach. My curiosity ceased to exist all of a sudden, especially when I knew what would happen to those slaves.

I sighed and returned my eyes to the world around me. I had to pay attention to anything that might happen. If I did anything less, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself.

By now, the gap between me and those slave traders should be large enough that I shouldn't be concerned about them. That was a good thing in and of itself.

I came here for a reason a clear reason, clarinadryl. Whatever piqued my curiosity had to be placed on hold. Despite knowing it was risky, I still got involved with people I shouldn't have had. They were people who treated others as though they were objects, and they showed no remorse for quite literally selling other human beings.

I had to be more careful.

Clarinadryl. Clarinadryl. Clarina—I kept repeating as my eyes swept over a dimly lit stall. The reason for that was the lantern hanging from above, its ring wrapped in a rope. I doubted that rough treatment would last forever, though. It was bound to fall eventually.

In all honesty, the Underworld seemed to be like a gamble. Despite the wide variety of items available, there was still a chance you might not find what you were looking for.

Or perhaps my passive approach was wrong. Maybe I had to be more assertive. Even though it hurt to think about it, Ethan had told me to be like that, right? Playing it safe won't get me anywhere, and learning from a distance won't do much either.

I picked a box from the stall. Half of it was dyed white, while the other half of it was dyed green. It seemed to be the thing I was looking for.

"How much?" I asked the merchant, trying to make my voice deeper than usual.

"What's that?" he probed as he rose from his chair, seemingly startled by my appearance. Did he happen to sleep up until now?

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

And the chair's legs were so short that I couldn't help but wonder how long it would last until the merchant broke them.

"This is your stall," I said, rotating the box in my hand. "You should be the one telling me what this is, don't you think so?"

"Lemme have a look at that," he grumbled, snatching the object from my grasp. As the pesky merchant examined it, a crinkled expression could be seen on his face. "Not for sale."

I frowned, deeply insulted. "What do you mean by that?"

"Ah? Do I have to repeat myself, or are you retarded?" he shot back, arching a brow as put the package on the table. Then, he put his fingers on the table and leaned forward, as if to scare me by revealing his yellowish teeth. "This is my stall, bastard. I can do as I please. Now get lost before things get out of hand, for you."

I could have simply walked away without saying anything else, but I opted not to. I smiled as I looked at his receding hairline, remembering the advice Ethan told me about. To be confident. "You should keep the medicine, then. I'm certain it will do wonders for your hair."

I wasn't sure if that was a good insult, but judging by the sour look on his face, I must have struck a nerve.

"Are you mocking me, you son of a—" he muttered, running his hand through his remaining hair, "—I'm not going bald! It's something that happens as you get older."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." I shrugged, turning away from him.

I knew it was pathetic to make fun of people for things they had no control over, but he deserved it. Like the pharmacist I met before, this merchant could have offered me a price I couldn't afford and then shooed me away. There was no reason for him to treat me in such a crude way.

If he at least had the decency to pretend he respected me, I wouldn't have insulted him... probably. Maybe I would've called him a bastard in the back of my head, but nothing more than that.

Enough, I told myself as I tried to forget everything regarding my conversation with the balding merchant. Even before I entered the Underworld, I was used to this kind of treatment. The fact that he threw another insult on top of the pile shouldn't affect me much.

"I ain't going bald!" he cried, holding a mirror—which was one of the items available at his stall—in his hand. "Do you hear me?"

Loud and clear. The corners of my lips curled upward as the merchant's voice reached my ears. Even if I didn't get my hands on what I wanted, at the very least I got the chance to entertain myself.

Things were different this time. To some extent, I could argue back. I never had the opportunity to stand up to like that to someone before. It was quite liberating...

Getting in a blow every once in a while wasn't so bad.

Not bad at all.