Chapter 13: Justice X
This was Asker’s first time attending a secret Transcendental gathering as an NPC. In his previous life, players had no need for such gatherings. If they needed an elixir formula, they simply posted a request on the forums. Someone would always respond, whether out of generosity or for a price.
If all else failed, they could hire a professional studio. These studios typically provided finished elixirs, handling everything from ingredient sourcing to preparation.
This was why most players, including Asker, could rattle off bloodline paths and elixir combinations but drew a blank when it came to specific formulas.
Having chosen their masks and cloaks, concealing their identities, they passed through a hidden door in the changing room, emerging into a clandestine underground bar. A circular dance floor occupied the center of the room, a single chair placed in the middle. The surrounding area was divided into shadowy booths, shrouded in darkness.
Medea, familiar with the layout, led them to a larger booth, barely big enough for three people. It seemed the organizers hadn’t anticipated a group of five. They squeezed into the cramped space.
“Each booth is shielded by Shadow magic,” Medea explained telepathically. “Shadow is an elixir sequence. From what I know, Shadow I allows the user to manipulate shadows, concealing light and sound. We can see and hear everything outside, but they can’t see or hear us. To communicate with those outside, use the voice amplifier on the wall. Press the button on the side.”
Nuo, closest to the wall, examined the device with interest, her pen scribbling furiously in her notebook.
Once everyone had arrived, a masked figure, shrouded in a black cloak, stepped onto the dance floor and sat on the chair. A distorted voice, filtered through a voice changer, announced, “Let the gathering commence.”
“First, we have the free trade session.”
As soon as he finished speaking, a voice crackled through a booth’s amplifier. “Booth number seven, selling a suit of meteoric iron armor.”
The host gestured, and a shadowy tendril emerged from booth number seven, dragging a dark green suit of armor into the open. It circled the room, allowing everyone to examine it.
“That’s…!” Nuo gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief.
“Another application of the Shadow sequence,” Medea explained. “It allows the user to manipulate shadows, retrieving objects or restraining enemies.”
“Allow me to elaborate on this exceptional armor, lest any newcomers miss out due to their lack of knowledge.” The voice from booth number seven chuckled. “Meteoric iron, a rare and highly sought-after material. The Solomon Church refers to it as ‘austenitic stainless steel,’ a unique type of steel of extraterrestrial origin. Unlike ordinary iron, the iron atoms within meteoric iron are arranged in a helical pattern, forming a microstructure filled with spring-like formations. This unique structure allows meteoric iron to absorb kinetic energy from impacts, storing it within these spring-like formations, effectively increasing its resistance to external forces.”
“In other words, the more this armor is struck, the stronger it becomes, the more resistant to damage.”
“The first to utilize meteoric iron for armor were the orc tribes of Sarmatia, north of the Black Sea. A battle-ready suit of meteoric iron armor required at least one hundred thousand hammer blows from a skilled orc blacksmith, a process that took half a month, ensuring it could withstand the impact of armor-piercing war hammers.” The voice from booth number seven scoffed, clearly disdainful of the orcs’ primitive methods. “I, however, employed modern factory equipment. A six-axis drilling machine subjected every point on this armor to over three million hammer blows. The resulting product can even withstand direct fire from anti-materiel sniper rifles.”
“I don’t have a sniper rifle on hand,” the host’s distorted voice interjected. “How about a handgun test?”
“Very well.” The voice from booth number seven exuded confidence.
The host drew a handgun and fired several rounds into the armor. The spent casings clattered to the floor as the shadowy tendril retrieved the armor, revealing its pristine surface. Not a single dent or scratch marred its surface.
A faint scratching sound emanated from a nearby booth. Nuo was taking notes.
“The armor is size 180XL. Unless you’re a giant, it should fit. Smaller individuals can wear additional padding for comfort. It’s a mail hauberk design, allowing for a full range of motion.” The voice from booth number seven finally announced his asking price. “I’m seeking the formula for Numerical Control I, or Mechanical II, or Power II. I’ll make up the difference in cash. If no one has the formula, I’ll accept one hundred pounds in cash.”
“One hundred pounds!” A voice immediately countered.
“One hundred and twenty!” Another booth joined the bidding war.
“Two hundred!” A deep-pocketed individual attempted to scare off the competition.
Medea turned to the others, her voice laced with amusement. “Armor and weapons are always in high demand. Anyone can use them. Enchanted items are trickier. It depends on the specific ability and the buyer’s needs. Formulas and materials are the least popular, ironically, even though they’re the most sought-after. After all, a formula is useless unless it aligns with your chosen bloodline path.”
“Four hundred and fifty!” The bidding slowed as most participants dropped out, intimidated by the price. One individual attempted to raise the bid, but the deep-pocketed individual immediately countered. “Five hundred!”
Five hundred pounds? A suit of armor for five hundred pounds? In the Western kingdoms, that sum could buy an entire estate, complete with land and businesses!
“Five hundred pounds. Any further bids?” the host asked, his gaze sweeping across the room.
“Tsk, tsk.” The voice from booth number seven sounded disappointed. He had clearly underestimated the armor’s value. “Are you sure no one has the formula I’m looking for?”
“Pen and paper, please,” Asker said, turning to Nuo.
“Oh, right.” Nuo tore a page from her notebook and handed it to him.
“I have the formula,” Asker announced, scribbling on the paper and activating the voice amplifier.
“You have the formula?” The voice from booth number seven was ecstatic. “Which one? Numerical Control I? Mechanical II? Power II?”
“Numerical Control I,” Asker replied. A shadowy tendril snaked out from the host’s booth, snatching the paper from Asker’s hand.
“How did you get the formula for Numerical Control I?” Medea asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.
“I used to work for a studio, gathering materials for Mechanical bloodline elixirs. I happened to memorize it,” Asker replied, a wistful smile on his lips. Those were simpler times.
“Would you like to have the formula verified?” the host asked, holding up the paper. “Ten pounds for a one-time authentication.”
“Go ahead,” the voice from booth number seven said after a moment of hesitation.
Forged formulas were a common occurrence. If the buyer possessed the Mechanical I trait, they could intuitively sense the authenticity of a Mechanical II formula. However, a new sequence like Numerical Control I was beyond their ability to verify.
The host, capable of organizing such a gathering, clearly had the means to authenticate formulas. However, the process inevitably involved revealing the formula’s contents, essentially allowing the organizers to acquire a level I formula for free.
Of course, anyone capable of hosting a secret Transcendental gathering under the Church’s nose was likely a powerful and influential figure, not lacking in common level I formulas. As long as they didn’t widely disseminate the formula’s contents, the buyer wouldn’t suffer any financial loss.
The host nodded and… pulled out a mobile phone. He snapped a picture of the formula and sent it through a messaging app.
Moments later, a notification chime sounded. The host glanced at his phone and announced, “I have a friend who specializes in the Numerical Control sequence. He confirms the formula is genuine.”
A friend… a high-level Numerical Control Transcendental? The voice from booth number seven replied, “I’m satisfied. The deal is done.”
“Hold on!” The deep-pocketed individual from booth number thirteen wasn’t giving up. “I’ll offer six hundred pounds.”
“I’m afraid not,” the voice from booth number seven replied. “I need that Numerical Control I formula. I would have paid a thousand pounds for it.”
“Booth number three,” the deep-pocketed individual said. “If you’re willing to part with the armor, deliver it to the Chalke Gate. The price won’t disappoint you.”
“I’ll consider it,” Asker replied.
“The Chalke Gate… that’s the main entrance to the Imperial Palace, isn’t it?” Nuo whispered. “Could booth number thirteen be someone from the Imperial Guard?”
“Perhaps it’s one of those Varangian mercenaries,” Medea suggested. “Only those Norsemen would be so obsessed with a suit of armor.”
The formula was delivered to booth number seven, and the host retrieved the armor with a shadowy tendril. Asker examined it briefly before handing it to Eleanor.
“For me?” Eleanor asked, surprised. She hadn’t contributed anything to the transaction.
“We’re a team,” Asker replied. “Isn’t it natural for the tank to have the best armor?”
Eleanor, despite her thick skin, was speechless. “Thank you,” she finally managed.
The gathering continued, with various items changing hands: a crystal ball and a pendant for divination, an ancient dragon scale said to possess supernatural properties, and a few elixirs. After the selling session concluded, it was time for the buying session.
Asker activated the voice amplifier in booth number three. “I’m seeking the following formulas, payable in cash: Life I, Justice X, Life Steal I, and Desire I.”
“Justice X?” A voice from booth number sixteen spoke up. “Host, can I request a private conversation?”
“One pound per ten minutes,” the host replied. A shadowy tendril extended, connecting booths sixteen and three.
“Just to confirm,” a youthful female voice said through the tendril, unfiltered by a voice changer. “The Justice X you’re seeking… is it also known as ‘Glory X’?”
“Glory X is its archaic name from the Third Era,” Asker confirmed.
“I happen to have the formula for Justice X,” the girl replied. “My asking price is one hundred pounds. However, if you can tell me what the elixir does, I’ll lower the price to sixty.”
Clearly, she had acquired the formula by chance and had no idea what it was for.
“Justice X,” Asker explained. “First, it enhances both physical and mental attributes. Second, as the name suggests, it inclines the user towards the Lawful Good alignment. Third, it grants a combat bonus against evil enemies.”
“Inclines the user towards Lawful Good? I see.” The girl sounded enlightened, her voice laced with a hint of disdain. “Deal. The formula is yours.”
Asker handed over sixty pounds, and the shadowy tendril delivered a slip of paper with the Justice X formula written on it. He passed it to Eleanor, who eagerly scanned its contents. It was written in the three-part format typical of “A Song of Fire and Iron” elixir formulas:
– Ingredient –
Feathers of Valar Eagle x3
– Subsidiary –
Eyes of Shadow Insects x1 pair
Riverwater of Garr Valley x100 ml
Diamond Powder x1 pinch
– Processing –
Bring 100 ml of Riverwater of Garr Valley to a boil in a beaker. Add 1 pair of Eyes of Shadow Insects. Continue boiling until the liquid turns opaque black. Add a pinch (fingernail-sized) of Diamond Powder. Once sparkling particles appear in the liquid, add the Feathers of Valar Eagle, one at a time. Consume the elixir once the liquid stabilizes.
“Do we need to verify this formula?” Eleanor asked.
“It seems genuine,” Asker replied. “I vaguely remember it.”
“Shadow Insects inhabit the Syrian Desert. I can acquire those,” Medea said.
“Valar Eagles nest atop the Hagia Sophia and the Palace of the Golden Throne,” Asker added. “The Garr Valley is located in the southern province of the Western Frankish Empire. We can inquire with Western merchants in Constantinople.”
