The entertainment district, as its name suggests, bustled with venues offering all kinds of amusements—karaoke bars where voices echoed with joy, theaters where magical plays captivated audiences, and various games that integrated with magic for the thrill-seekers.
Naturally, more adult-oriented entertainment like bars and nightclubs were nestled among these establishments, drawing those who sought a different kind of escape.
If Oz didn't possess the appearance of an 14-year-old, he would have confidently walked into the bar through the front entrance, his head held high. However, the reality of his rejuvinated body restricted him, making such a bold move impossible.
Any bouncer stationed at the entrance would've likely laughed before tossing him out onto the street without a second thought.
With no other viable option, Oz made his way to the bar's back door, where the deliveries were typically made—food and drink supplies brought in.
He slipped inside with the ease of someone who had done this many times back on Earth, though this time he was acutely aware of the unsettling sensation in his gut.
At this moment, Oz found himself seated at a small, worn wooden table near the kitchen.
The table was modest and usually reserved for the bar's staff during their brief moments of breaks.
The air smelled faintly of simmering stew and aged wood, mingling with the distant murmur of conversations drifting from the bar area.
Across from him sat a woman who looked to be in her early 30s. Her wavy brown hair cascaded just past her shoulders, framed by a leather jacket that had seen better days, paired with well-worn jeans.
Her eyes held a shrewd gleam, betraying years of experience in dealing with all manner of people.
"The price is 50,000 Echoes."
She declared with a tone that suggested no room for negotiation.
The woman was Sarah Gamp, the owner of the bar known as 'Chuzzlewit.' The bar was infamous for its tough patrons and even tougher secrets.
Sarah had just laid out her terms for the information Oz sought, and it wasn't a small sum she was asking.
"I may look like an 14-year-old, but I'm no fool. That price is outrageous."
Oz retorted, his voice laced with irritation, though the boyish pitch of it somewhat undermined his indignation.
Sarah's response was a nonchalant tap of the table with a heavy coin. The coin gleamed with a symbol of crossed swords overlaid with a blooming rose.
"If you didn't have this coin, kid, I wouldn't have bothered to meet with you directly. I would have just let my staff handle it."
This particular coin was more than just currency; it was a token of membership in Stellarkeep's shadowy information network.
For a Dark Lord like his master, acquiring something like this coin was trivial due to her immense power and influence.
If she wanted, she could even gather the information directly, but it would draw attention from various factions.
That's why she gave the coin to him instead.
"Then at least throw in some perks if you're going to demand that much."
Oz pressed, trying to salvage some advantage from the situation.
A slow, satisfied smile spread across Sarah's lips as she realized she had the upper hand. She had won the negotiation, and she knew it.
With a slight nod, Oz reluctantly handed over the hefty sum of 50,000 Echoes.
The envelope crinkled as he set it down on the table, a sound that seemed to echo in the small, quiet space.
The price of the information he sought regarding Mistheaven's entrance exam was exorbitant, but it wasn't just the basic intel he was paying for.
Sarah had promised him something extra—something that could make all the difference.
"I'm not going to ask where you got this kind of money from, but it's obvious you're not just some ordinary kid. A Dark Mage, perhaps?"
Sarah's voice was casual, but her eyes sharpened as she studied Oz more intently.
Chuzzlewit wasn't famous for its food or drinks. In fact, most patrons would say the fare was barely passable.
What it was truly known for was its intelligence network, a web of spies, informants, and brokers who could dig up dirt on anyone or anything—for the right price, of course.
In the underworld of the magical world, information brokers rarely cared about the morality of their clients. Whether one was a Dark Wizard or a saint, it didn't matter.
As long as they could pay, they would be served, no questions asked. It was said that even a talking dog with a fat enough purse could buy secrets in this place.
Sarah gestured to one of her subordinates, who swiftly appeared with a thick envelope.
*Thud*
The weight of it was evident as it hit the table with a dull thud. The envelope was bulging with documents, the contents pressing against its seams.
"This is everything we have on the Mistheaven entrance exam."
Sarah said, pushing two envelopes across the table towards Oz.
Oz carefully opened the envelope and began to sift through the documents.
The papers inside were filled with details—exam schedules, identities of the examiners, the exact criteria they used to judge candidates, and much more.
It was a treasure trove of information that could give him an edge, an advantage over the other candidates vying for a place at Mistheaven Academy.
"The other envelope will only be useful if you manage to get accepted."
Sarah added, her tone matter-of-fact.
The 'perk' she had promised was indeed valuable. It included detailed breakdowns of how to earn house points, statistics on the various houses, and even a few tricks on how to sway the judges in his favor. It was insider knowledge, the kind that could turn the tide in his favor.
"Heh, I've already sunk 50,000 Echoes into this. I hope the second pile of papers proves to be worth it."
Oz muttered, a hint of bitterness in his voice as he realized the magnitude of his investment.
"Oh, and I'll throw in one more piece of information for free. Consider it a service for such a generous payment."
Sarah added, her voice dripping with a hint of mockery, as if she enjoyed rubbing salt in Oz's wounds.
"Recently, the Dark Lords have been more active, and people around here are too afraid to go out after 8 PM."
"Which Dark Lord?"
Oz asked, his curiosity piqued, though his voice remained cautious.
In this world, there wasn't just one Dark Lord. Over history, there have been 144 recorded Dark Lords since the first was documented in the year 612. Even now, eight demon lords remain active and continue to be a source of fear.
"Disease Dark Lord and Ensnaring Dark Lord, of course."
Sarah replied, her tone indicating that these names should have been obvious.
The title of Dark Lord wasn't necessarily given to the most malevolent individuals. Sometimes, it was bestowed upon those who dabbled in forbidden practices or whose powers became uncontrollable.
The Ensnaring Dark Lord was indeed a true villain—an expert in mind-control magic, a master schemer, and the orchestrator behind several recent atrocities in the wizzarding world.
On the other hand, the Disease Dark Lord was already dead. His legacy, however, lived on in the form of the devastation he had unleashed. Millions had died due to his actions, though it was said that the disease he had released was an accident.
Nonetheless, the title of Dark Lord was bestowed upon him, and to this day, some people still suffered from the illness he had inadvertently spread.
"Oh, so that's what's been going on."
Oz muttered, relieved that it wasn't the Transmutation Dark Lord who was stirring trouble. The thought of his master's name being brought up sent a chill down his spine.
The Transmutation Dark Lord was a figure shrouded in mystery and dread. She was the oldest living human and one of the most powerful wizards to have ever existed.
Her influence spanned over a millennium, and from her research emerged the forbidden magic of Human Transmutation—a form of magic so taboo that it was feared even by the boldest dark wizzard.
Even Bloodstone and Briarstone are her inventions—failed inventions, to be exact.
If anyone discovered that Oz was the apprentice of the Transmutation Dark Lord, the Inquisitors would hunt him down without mercy.
They wouldn't hesitate to torture him to extract every secret he knew about his master.
"And one more thing."
Sarah continued, leaning forward slightly, her voice lowering as if what she was about to say carried even more weight.
"The Transmutation Dark Lord was recently detected using large-scale sorcery. The Inquisitors couldn't figure out exactly what he was doing, but whatever it was, it was big."
"… "
He had just felt a sense of relief but was soon unsettled by this new piece of information.
"Don't worry about the Transmutation Dark Lord; he rarely interferes with the wizarding world."
—Yep, of course, more precisely, master no longer cares.
The Transmutation Dark Lord had lived for an exceptionally long time and had grown bored of troubling humans.
Now she spent most of her time gazing at the stars, trying to uncover the secrets of the universe.
*Kyaaa*
*Shatter*
From inside the bar, an employee approached Sarah with an anxious look.
"Boss, there's trouble."
The employee whispered urgently, clearly distressed.
"Just throw him out if he's causing a disturbance!"
Sarah snapped, clearly frustrated and not willing to handle it herself.
"But he's a noble, boss."
"Ugh, dealing with nobles is such a hassle. Oliver, I need to handle this. Stay here."
Sarah strode purposefully toward the bar's interior.
—And I'm left alone.
Oz considered playing a prank on the noble but hesitated. If caught, he might face severe consequences. Although it wouldn't be fatal, the pain would be very real.
Since he wasn't allowed inside the bar, Oz waited outside. He noticed a sleek, luxury car resembling a Rolls-Royce Phantom parked in the lot.
"Hmm, it looks like a Rolls-Royce Phantom but has some distinct features."
Oz marveled at the car's opulence. Even in a world teeming with magic, a luxury vehicle retained its awe-inspiring allure.
"Keep your hands off this car! It belongs to young master Bolkonsky."
Despite merely admiring the car from a distance, the driver, visibly irate, took offense. It wasn't even his car to guard.
Irritated, Oz stepped away from the driver's line of sight and waited for the noble to emerge from the bar.
Without needing to ask anyone, Oz recognized this 'young master Bolkonsky'. Whether he was 18 years old or had used his status to gain entry, Oz couldn't be certain.
Just before the driver entered the car, Oz pointed his hand toward him.
"Vagabundus!"
The spell was a simple prank, but when combined with the luxury car and a noble, it made for a dangerous mix. The driver might end up in serious trouble, possibly even in a coffin, instead of behind the wheel.
The car wobbled noticeably as it drove off. Oz watched as it turned the corner and disappeared from view.
*Whoom*
"Ah, he's coming back again."
It didn't take long for the car to return, driving in circles around the same area several times.
"Have fun with 'young master Bolkonsky,' hehehe."
Oz could use more sophisticated magic like Hex Sorcery or Transmutation Sorcery, but he avoided it to prevent arousing suspicion from the inquisitor.
As Oz headed back to the table behind the bar, he noticed Sarah looking increasingly distressed. On the table was a nearly empty bottle of strong liquor.
"Heh, seems like a storm just passed by, huh?"
Oz teased, observing Sarah's troubled expression.
"Want a drink? I'm not sure if you're really 14 years old."
Sarah offered Oz a new bottle of alcohol, attempting to lighten the mood.
"What's the point of alcohol if it doesn't get me drunk?"
Oz replied. Not only did he have regenerative abilities, but he also possessed detoxification skills that made him immune to poisons, including alcohol.
"Hahaha, Oliver, you're missing out on a pleasure."
Sarah taunted, her face flushed red from alcohol intoxication. Her demeanor was increasingly erratic as the alcohol took its toll.
"Hey Sarah, if the information broker is drunk, what will happen to the quality of the info being sold?"
"My information has nothing to do with me being drunk. If I wanted, I could even track down one of the Dark Lords."
Sarah said with a boastful tone, her judgment clearly clouded by alcohol. Her words slurred slightly, and she seemed to be relishing the opportunity to show off despite her state.
"Coincidentally, I could do that too. Hahaha."
Of course, Oz could; his master was one of the Dark Lords. In fact, he had spent considerable time with one of the most dangerous humans alive. The thought of it made him chuckle to himself.
"Sobberificus!"
He cast a Medical Magic, intended to instantly sober up a drunk person.
The incantation caused Sarah to blink in surprise as the alcohol's effects began to wear off.
"Hey! That's not funny!"
Sarah stood up angrily, her face now showing a mix of irritation and embarrassment.
She grabbed another bottle, her movements slightly unsteady, and took a swig, attempting to regain her previous state.
"Seems like the noble was causing trouble."
"That guy? Not at all. He's just a snotty kid. But the item he's after is quite troublesome."
"Oh, what's he looking for?"
"Just so you know, there was a murder recently in the wand-making district. The victim was a Dark Wizard who was selling Bloodstone."
"…"
Oz could only remain silent, having been the one to deliver that person to meet God. His expression hardened as he contemplated the seriousness of the situation.
"The perpetrator can't be found because he didn't use magic. Imagine which lunatic would use a magic wand as a close-range weapon."
—Actually, the culprit is right in front of you.
"The problem is, the perpetrator was taking Briarstone. Several parties have put out a bounty for information about anyone selling Briarstone."
—There's no way I'd sell it, unless I run out of money.
The price of Briarstone is about 160,000 Echo per piece. Selling it could fund world travel, but bounty hunters would likely accompany him wherever he went.
—It's a good thing I'm not selling that stone.
"I often deal with Dark Wizards, but human sacrifices always make me nauseous."
—And you'd surely vomit if you saw the process of making those Bloodstones.
*Crash*
A loud noise, like a car crashing into something solid, reverberated from the street.
Sarah and Oz rushed outside. About 50 meters from the bar, the car, which had been pristine, was now badly dented after slamming into a tree by the roadside. The once-sleek vehicle now looked like a crumpled mess.
The driver was seen kneeling before 'young master Bolkonsky,' his posture submissive and desperate.
The driver's muffled apologies could be heard, pleading with all his heart and soul. He knew failure meant his end.
"Young master, I truly didn't know! Please forgive me."
His green mucus had splattered across the road as he knelt. It was a sorry sight, and it seemed that the road might need a thorough cleaning.
"Dark Wizard!"
A woman's voice called out, pointing toward the top of the building where the accident occurred. Her voice was tinged with fear and urgency.
At the top, a figure in a dark cloak was faintly visible against the backdrop of the evening sky. It looked suspiciously out of place, but Oz squinted and realized it was just a piece of black cloth fluttering on the rooftop.
Because of the misunderstanding, rumors about a Dark Mage attempting to assassinate 'young master Bolkonsky' had spread like wildfire among commoners and even more so among nobles. The city was abuzz with confusion and fear.