"Not at all", Anzhe took another step back, his back pressing against a plastic board, "I took a wrong turn."
"Wrong turn?" The woman questioned, "The second floor is a gold mine for gamblers, is that where you wanted to go?"
She took a drag of her cigarette, nestled between her red lips, with a smile, "Be careful not to lose yourself."
Trapped in a corner by the woman's persistence, Anzhe found himself with no way out. This dazzling human was proving more troublesome than any abyssal monster.
"Don't be afraid," she exhaled a cloud of white smoke, "I won't eat you."
"Can I leave then?" Anzhe asked.
The woman laughed again.
"Leave?" She raised an eyebrow, "Only those with nowhere left turn to the third floor. Where would you go after leaving?"
With that, she ushered him forward: "Scared by this place? You don't have to stay, I'll give you a grand room."
"Thank you," Anzhe murmured, bowing his head, "But I really did take a wrong turn."
"Hmm?"
"I just wanted a regular job," he explained, "Someone directed me to the third sub-level."
"The black market is only visible on the surface level," the woman blinked, a look of smoky seduction in her eyes, "Didn't you know?"
"Now I do," Anzhe realized.
He also learned about the "Foundation Manual's free market," referred to as the black market by the people.
"The foundation's laws don't protect the black market," the woman leaned against the wall, smoking. She didn't corner Anzhe anymore but made a space.
Anzhe thought this gesture meant his release, but as he took a step forward, he saw two towering men in black, appearing behind her, blocking every possible exit.
"No one leaves the third level," her voice lost its sweetness, turning cold, "But consider yourself lucky."
Anzhe looked up at her.
"You have a chance," she said, "Mr. Xiao's workshop needs hands. If he wants you, you follow him; if he doesn't—"
She paused, turning to walk in a direction, "Come."
After a moment's hesitation, Anzhe followed her deeper inside.
The partitions were dense, and he felt as if navigating a labyrinth constructed by a hive, the lights dimming further as they proceeded.
At the end of this space, a door appeared on the grey wall.
The woman knocked, "Mr. Xiao, here for business."
The door creaked open.
An elderly man with snow-white hair, dressed in black and wearing a bow tie, scrutinized the woman, "Dusai, a rare visit."
She extinguished her cigarette against the wall, "Here for a matter."
"How big of a business?" Mr. Xiao glanced at Anzhe, then back to the woman.
"Not big, just difficult. I feared you might refuse, so I brought you a meeting gift," Dusai leaned on Anzhe's shoulder, "Heard your apprentice died from drinking, looking for the next one. Whether it's a woman you find ugly or a clumsy man. See if this kid works for you."
Mr. Xiao's gaze settled on Anzhe, "Looks compliant."
"Indeed, he is," Dusai played with her hair, "Felt Mr. Xiao would like him at first glance."
Mr. Xiao chuckled.
Then directed Anzhe, "Stretch out your hand, let me see."
Anzhe's hand was pale, with a slight pinkish tint.
"Where did you find him, Dusai?" Mr. Xiao asked, "How could you bear to bring such a child to the third level?"
Dusai smirked, "Deceived him."
Anzhe remained silent.
Mr. Xiao requested, "Clench your fist, slowly."
Anzhe obeyed, closing his fingers slowly.
"Slower," Mr. Xiao instructed.
Finally, Anzhe slowed to an almost imperceptible pace. He knew how to control thousands of delicate mycelium fibers as a mushroom; this was easier in comparison.
Dusai moved closer, "Mr. Xiao, you've found a treasure. His hand is steadier than your last apprentice."
Mr. Xiao admired Anzhe's hand, "Let me borrow him for a few days. If he works out, I'll keep him."
Dusai interjected, "Pay the kid his due."
Mr. Xiao agreed.
Anzhe frowned, necessary as the pay was, he felt endangered by being deemed "useful."
"Don't fear—Mr. Xiao may not be a saint," Dusai seemed to sense his concerns, reassuring him, "but his skills fetch a high price."
"I'm not a good man?" Mr. Xiao scoffed in jest, "I'm the biggest philanthropist here."
Continuing, he turned to Anzhe, "Take a look around the store while I speak with this madwoman."
Obedient, Anzhe explored closer to the shelves—filled with peculiarly shaped bottles, liquid or solid contents inside, marked with unclothed human forms. Deeper in, similar themed books—something Anzhe recognized. The closure of the base department Anzhe previously contributed to was partly due to such published materials becoming obsolete, outdone by pornography from the black market.
Beside the cigarettes in clear glass drawers were numerous mechanical USB drives,
Then, conversation erupted from Mr. Xiao and Dusai's corner.
"The kid's not bad, Mrs. Dusai, always so tight-fisted, actually brought me a generous gift. Whatever business you wish to discuss must be significant," Mr. Xiao's voice came through, accompanied by the click of a lighter, the room's smoke density doubled.
"Merely picked him up opportunistically," Dusai giggled, "What I require of Mr. Xiao is indeed no trivial matter."
"It's doable," Mr. Xiao replied nonchalantly, "As long as the price is right."
"You might not dare," Dusai remarked slowly.
"Pay more, and I'll dare," Mr. Xiao claimed.
Dusai chuckled, revealing her intention with three words.
"Judge," she articulated, "Would Mr. Xiao dare?"
Anzhe was startled, uncertain how these two individuals related to the 'Judge' within the black market's confines.
At Mr. Xiao's end, silence ensued.
Eventually, he stated, "I deal with the dead, not the living. I prefer to avoid trouble; you're inviting the biggest trouble."
"I won't lie, I have a friend madly in love with that colonel, insisting on having him," Dusai admitted, "Knowing well that no one dares to approach a Judge within three meters. I've no choice but to buy a fake from you. For home display, absolutely no trouble. The price, Mr. Xiao, is yours to name."
Mr. Xiao just laughed, silent.
Meanwhile, Anzhe continued to explore the shop's innards.
He stumbled over something.
Looking down, he saw a lone, pale hand lying on the concrete floor, recently severed but smooth and clean at the cut, bloodless.
Anzhe crouched, prodding the hand's skin—soft, akin to a human's, yet not.
Satisfied with the intrigue, he stood up.
—Upon standing, his gaze met that of someone within the glass display. Under dim lighting, a pair of dark eyes stared back at him, half of the body concealed in shadow, slightly unsettling.
Anzhe and the figure locked gazes for a long time; after three minutes, he saw no breath from the man.
Perhaps, like the fake arm, it was a dummy, he thought.
"Scared?" Mr. Xiao's voice suddenly resonated behind him.
Anzhe replied, "Not really."
"Do they resemble?" Mr. Xiao inquired.
"Yes," Anzhe affirmed.
Mr. Xiao chuckled raspy, switched on more lights, brightening the area.
Anzhe could finally discern the man within the display—tall and slender in black, with sharp features illuminated by a soft white glow under the light, adding an intimidating air.
"AR137 mercenary leader, Hubbard, ever heard?" Mr. Xiao asked.
Anzhe remained silent, Mr. Xiao continued, "Among the top mercenaries, effortlessly tackling five-star danger zones. Wealthy, huh?"
"Sure," Anzhe agreed.
He knew the resources brought back could be exchanged for currency at the military supply depot. Skilled mercenaries weren't strapped for cash.
Mr. Xiao pointed to the displayed man, "His deputy, grown up together, mercenaries for life, decades of close knit bond. Last mission to the Parrax victims left no body, tragic."
Here, Mr. Xiao chuckled, "Three months post mortem, Hubbard sought me out. He was shell-shocked, spent a fortune for me to mimic this man, not a hair out of place."
"I dare not fault, except for being inanimate, everything matches," Mr. Xiao sighed, "After all, he has to spend the rest of his life with a dummy."
"I initially crafted these for entertainment ," Mr. Xiao explained, "As the outside grows more deadly, sanity slips away, and my craft's value soared."
Patting Anzhe's shoulder, Mr. Xiao advised, "Learn well from me, in ten years, you'll outearn any mercenary."
Anzhe looked at him, recalling his conversation with Dusai, queried, "Then, will you make a Judge?"
"Why not?" Mr. Xiao grinned, "Judges are too busy executing to bother with such affairs."