Granny Orgy looked at Denva with incredulity as she listened to his words. The look on Bazzard's face depicted how insulted he felt. All he wanted at this moment was to beat up this cocky kid.
Before he could say anything, the old woman standing before Denva burst into laughter as she saw the calm look on his face.
"Well, well. That's a bold declaration young man," she said.
Denva knew that it was. While it appeared risky to even say something like that, he knew that there would be no harm to him or anyone else related to him from such a declaration.
What he had come to understand about this world in the past few days was that people in the Low value Districts were desperate. One of the money-generating ideas he planned to participate in was also a result of how the dismal life standard had become, people in these IDs looking for a win of any kind. He would exploit that.
These people wouldn't take his ability to actually modify a Renewal Array seriously, but they would definitely deal with him when he didn't deliver.
Denva wasn't worried about that. He had full confidence. The King of Bloodshed failing to deconstruct lower forms of Enlightenment in a mere World?
Preposterous!
When he succeeded, he knew that he would probably be in more danger, but he would have long started on his path to cultivation by then. He could deal with it. His family wouldn't come to any harm before that.
"I know, but you asked for what I could offer in exchange. I'll deliver as I've said," Denva stated.
"Kid, you realise that there are consequences for not keeping your end of the bargain right? The Double Underground isn't some washed up society that's all bark and no bite," said Bazzard with unveiled hostility.
"Sure," replied Denva without sparing him a glance.
Bazzard did not take that well.
"You have guts, young man," said Granny Orgy with what looked like a seductive smile which threw Denva way off. "Since I've already invited you to join our society how about you think about joining the Black Blood Court. With a bit of training, you could earn a bit of money by knocking some teeth."
There it was. The thing that Denva was saving for later.
The Black Blood Court.
The underground fight club for all the Low value IDs. Though, that was probably an oversimplification.
"I've heard about that before. I'll think about it," said Denva. "Can I get my sword, now?"
Granny Orgy swayed her waist as she walked back to the counter.
"Of course. Bazzard, take him to select what he wants from the stash. I look forward to seeing you again, young man."
Denva unconsciously shivered.
Bazzard, with a rage-filled face, led Denva out the door.
The old woman left inside suddenly clutched the counter as she began sweating profusely. She still had a smile on her face as she gazed at Denva's shrinking back. What she had seen had left her flabbergasted, but...
But...
It was all for the good of the Double Underground.
This kind of monster was what they needed. She didn't know where he came from, but she didn't bother with it. All she saw was enough.
'There's too much mystery. I can't seem to see it all but.... ' she thought. '... whoever he is. He will turn this World upside down!'
Denva and Bazzard walked away from the kiosk and walked into one of the shops that was a distance away. It looked like an antique store with peculiar wares and jewels that would make any old fogeys gulp with interest. The aged wooden tiling and discoloured walls spoke volumes about the degree of age this place held.
There was not a soul to be seen in the store except for an old man whose hairline was doing the moonwalk towards the back of his head. His grey hair and wrinkly skin screamed of age and as he sat behind a counter, looking as if he was asleep as his eyes were closed, one couldn't help but assume the worst would come for him in a few days.
Denva who set his eyes on the old man, however, knew better. This old man was gathering World Essence.
'He must be a Cultivator. Hmm... Integrator in this case I suppose,' thought Denva.
Bazzard walked up to the old man and knocked on the counter with his fingers.
The old man muttered something before opening his eyes, gazing at Bazzard and then at Denva.
"Anything new?" the old man asked in a gruff tone.
"Just this brat," said Bazzard in annoyance.
Denva pulled the card he had from his pocket, only half of it peaking out.
The old man nodded slowly and stood from his seat. Bazzard followed after him, Denva in tow.
They entered through a door at the far end of the room, walking downstairs where they were met with three other doors.
The old man picked the door on the far left, opening it with a key he had pulled from his breast pocket.
Denva guessed that the other two doors were trap doors and not the pleasant kind.
Another descending staircase awaited the trio and with each descent, the place got darker.
"Follow my exact movements," said Bazzard with his usual annoyed voice.
Denva nodded, following the instructions. This place had a tremendous level of security which wasn't at all visible to him.
After a long stretch, they reached the bottom, the old man turning a switch which made the space around them bright.
a light bulb could be seen hanging on the ceiling.
On a surprisingly clean, black cement floor, Denva saw boxes as tall as himself neatly arranged in rows to his left while on the right were large tables, arranged in a similar fashion.
Denva looked at all of them as his eyes gleamed with a look of reminiscence.
Daggers, knives, rifles, bayonets, swords, armour among other items were placed on top of them.
They looked to be in top condition as well.
Several glass cases could be seen a bit further, housing higher quality items.
The old man looked at Denva and narrowed his eyes. He hadn't bothered to give a proper inspection of the boy by Bazzard's side, but now that he did, he felt.... unnerved.
The look in the young man's eyes betrayed none of his emotions. He looked at the weapons ahead of him without the enthusiasm that others like him would have after being conscripted into the Double Underground. Denva wasn't the first one to be scouted which is why he hadn't bothered, but now...
"What type of weapon would you like?" the old man asked while paying attention to the young man's facial expression.
Denva looked at the old man. He had noticed how the old man was now paying attention to him. It was amusing. Other than Granny Orgy, it seems this man was also someone who could tell that something about him was different. This was especially so after he had ridden himself of Freidris' influence.
"He wants a sword," Bazzard said before the Denva could reply.
Denva walked up to the tables and scrutinised the swords. Most of them were really good. The craftsmanship being of a marvellous standard. Those within the glass cases were special items, no doubt reserved for the wealthy or other purposes.
As he turned, Denva saw a particular sword that was on one of the tables at the very end of the small space. It was among a few other broken and damaged items which seemed to either be awaiting repair or disposal.
It was a katana.
It had an unsightly black hilt, a rusting blade with parts of it being chipped off and its overall image was unattractive.
Denva walked up and touched. There was nothing special about it. No World Essence. No etchings or enchantments to show that it had a grand history.
Nothing.
"You fancy that sword?" the old man asked while raising his brow. Bazzard at the side couldn't help but scoff and blow a puff of smoke into the air as he gazed at Denva.
"Yes. I will be taking this," Denva said as he lifted the katana. He smiled as his eyes were reflected on the part of the blade which had not yet been overtaken by the rust.
"That was the first sword forged by my father when he was young. He kept it to commemorate his journey as a blacksmith. Once he became able to forge better swords, he passed it to me so that I could remember how his legacy began. It is nothing special. I advise you choose another sword," said the old man.
Denva held the sword by the hilt, watching his hand coil around the handle that looked like a black rubber band wound hundreds of times.
"Thank you. But I still want this sword. I will buy another one as well. I'm sure my privilege covers for this rusted one, right?" said Denva as he turned to Bazzard.
"Urgh," grunted Bazzard with a ferocious look on his face.
"Very well," said the old man as he sighed.
'Was I wrong about him? Is he some pretentious hot-blooded idiot after all?' he thought.