In a vacant alley by the side of the road, a man put on a ski mask, an old white face mask from previous Halloween, and a pair of black gloves. Then, he locked up his bicycle onto a steel pole. Despite having a driver's license, he was paranoid about being caught with his car and opted to use an old bicycle from middle school. As he walked to the main street, he looked both ways. Several cars passed by, but no one batted an eye at seeing the masked man. Instead, they continued driving north toward the sound of loud foreign pop music playing near Cory Row.
The masked man turned toward the same direction. As he approached Cory Row, more pedestrians appeared, converging into the main street. The orange cones prevented cars from driving through and marked the start of the cosplay market. Colorful graffities covered the low-rise brick buildings and the stone paved road from hundred years about. Little vending stalls with fabric canopy sat on both sides of the sidewalks. In between, a mix of people in colorful costumes interwined. Women in cat ears and men in colorful tights and slacks strolled about, checking the merchandises and taking pictures. Teenagers with their group of friends tried out the cheap Venetian masks, makeup, and chatting non-stop about the latest shows and trends. The masked man walked into the crowded street, blending in with the eclectic mix. Afterward, the man walked toward the corner of the block and stopped by a stall with nothing but a little caged pigeon on the display shelf.
“Are you Buck?” The masked man asked.
“Yeah, what ya want?” Buck asked. His mouth opened wide as he talked, revealing a noticeable broken front tooth.
“I heard you are the person to ask if I want to sell a D-rank plant.”
Buck stared at the stranger, looking up and down as though performing a body scan. “Yeah, you’ve come to the right place. You’re a newbie, so I need to ask you some questions. First, are you willing to part with the plant? We have a no return policy.”
The masked man nodded. The conditions were already posted online, but verbal confirmation was important. The buyer needed to verify spiritual status and ranking of the plant by bringing it into the otherworld realm. Many newbie assumed a small leaf and pieces of the plant was enough to verify the plant, but it was a poor assumption. It was possible to damage the SP of a plant by cutting or removing any part of the plants without a guidance from an apothecary or alchemist. Spiritual plant verification and any type of verification in the real world was difficult. Even the ORA's SP ranker scanner had a cap of twenty-five.
“Do you want to use your real name or an alias?” Buck asked. Obviously from the way the man was dressed, he would want to use an alias.
Although all transactions were technically under the book, using a real name would allow faster transactions. With security cameras and modern technology, identity was difficult to keep. Nevertheless, an alias would slow down an investigation, especially if people were avoiding taxes.
“An alias, Maddox,” the man replied.
“That’s taken,” Buck said.
“Oh…”
Buck cracked up, laughing loudly. “I’m joking buddy. I have no idea. But if you register on the Orcon app, you may need to add some numbers or something.”
Orcoin was a type of cyptocurrency used in the cosplay market, exchanged through the Orcon app. No one knew the origin the Orcoin, other than it being used as an underground currency. Orcoins were always equivalent to the value of federation dollars.
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“That’s fine,” Maddox replied.
“All right, with an alias, there is a 10,000 pound surcharge,” Buck said. “Do you want to pay the money upfront, or wait until the verification check comes back?”
“I will wait for the check,” said Maddox. "Where do I get the Orcon App?"
“From the store manager. They are in charge of distributing the app and Orcoins, so you can ask them about it."
With the agreement set in place, Buck escorted Maddox around the corner, down the side stairs, and into the brick building. Despite the old brick exterior, the interior was cleaned and well-lit. Further inside, the room opened up three-story high with iron and glass skylight capping the top of building. The small greenhouse housed several hundreds different containers of plants. Most of the plants had colored stickered tag indicating their prices, ranging from $10,000 to $100,000. There were five armed guards surrounding the exits, all carrying a gun by their side. There were four other customers inside, all examining the plants.
"No return, price as marked," said the numerous signs plastered around the greenhouse.
Buck introduced the stranger to the greenhouse manager and then left the greenhouse.
“Mr. Maddox, do you have the specimen you wish to sell?” The manager asked.
Maddox took out a potted plant sealed in a plastic bag from his backpack. He set it on the white iron table for the manager to inspect.
“I see that this is a lincour mint,” said the manager, who took out his magnifying glass to examine the leaves. “It is in good condition. It will take a week to verify the plant. Let me give you a receipt.”
“Can I walk around the greenhouse?” Ian asked.
“Yes, but since you don't have the Orcon app installed, if you plan to buy anything, you must pay with cash,” the manager replied. "Please keep in mind that we close at 8pm, and no pictures."
Maddox took out his notepad and started sketching as many plants as possible. The manager was always impressed at the customers’ diligence and different ways to verify the plant’s authenticity. Some customers had magnifying glasses and scanners. As long as the plant was not damaged during the process, Orcon allowed any type of testing.
The manager saw Maddox smelling the plant, which was the most common methods plant hunters like to use. Treasure hunters in the black market scene knew that the chances of counterfeit were high. Many of the plants were originally spiritual plants, but the owner had accidently damaged them during transport. As the store policy was to sell at 90% discount and to buy at above ORA pricing, the only way for the Orcon to profit was through enticing the buyer’s gambling spirit. Based on previous transactions, the manager estimated that less than 10% of the plants had spiritual powers.
While Maddox drew the plants, the manager wrote down the agreement in the ledger and gave Maddox the receipt. It was tricky to deal with underground transactions, especially ones with no legal description and names. Technically, Maddox was at a disadvantage. If Orcon was a clandestine organization, then there was no guarantee he would get his money back. His only assurances was the forum members who had made previous transactions. Not every black market was authentic.
"Here you go sir," the manager as he approached Maddox with the receipt. Upon reaching armlength, he noticed that the illustration of the ambrogi rose was almost completed. "Oh wow, you're fast. Are you an illustrator?"
Maddox shook his head.
Seeing that Maddox didn't elaborate further, the manager left him alone. Trained in the art of customer service, the manager knew it was best not to ask too many questions. After a few hours, Maddox documented half of the plants in the warehouse. They were mostly native plants and exoplants found around the region.
“Did you find what you are looking for?” the manager asked.
“Unfortunately, no,” Maddox replied. “I will come again tomorrow."
The manager nodded.
Maddox returned to his bicycle, he took out his disguise, and placed it back into his backpack. Ian wiped the sweat from his forehead and bangs. The temperature was comfortable for late spring, but once summer arrived, it was going to be a pain to keep the disguise. He wondered whether having a disguise was even worth it. In the modern era, it was difficult to maintain true anonymity. Ian had no intention to hide his ability in the future. What he wanted to avoid was his low SP. Once he acquired 10 SP, it would be easier to explain his ability and avoid the eyes of whoever was experimenting with the geist awakening.