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Chapter 19 - Black Market (2)

Kayne was the leader of a small but thriving merchant group in the black market. Despite being in his early twenties, he had already built a name for himself in the shadows of the bustling underworld. With sharp wit and a cunning mind, Kayne had managed to climb the ranks in just a year.

He wasn't an honest businessman, though. Kayne was a master scammer, known for selling fake products at outrageously high prices. Whether it was counterfeit potions, imitation artifacts, or rigged gadgets, Kayne could sell anything to anyone with a convincing smile and a smooth tongue. His ability to deceive and manipulate had turned him into one of the top sellers in the locality within a year—a reputation he wore with pride.

It was business as usual for Kayne when a young boy, no older than sixteen or seventeen, stepped into his shop. The boy had jet-black hair and striking purple eyes that stood out even in the dim light of the store. He wandered through the cramped space, his gaze finally settling on the section displaying swords. There was a spark of interest in his eyes, and Kayne's instincts kicked in immediately.

'Easy target,' Kayne thought with a sly grin. Straightening his posture, he approached the boy, putting on his most charismatic smile.

"Ah, looking for a sword, are you? You've got a good eye," Kayne said smoothly. He gestured toward the display with a practiced flourish. "These sword artifacts are top-tier. This one here," he pointed to a sword gleaming under a faint spotlight, "was crafted by one of the finest blacksmiths in the black market. A true masterpiece."

Kayne then shifted his hand to another blade, its hilt adorned with intricate designs. "And this beauty? It's said to have been forged using dwarven technology itself. You won't find craftsmanship like this anywhere else."

The boy listened silently, his gaze flickering between Kayne and the swords. After a moment, a small, unreadable smile curved his lips.

"Let me see the one on the left," the boy said, his voice calm but firm.

Kayne's grin widened as he reached for the blade. 'Got him,' he thought. Another deal was about to be sealed—or so he believed.

The truth was, everything Kayne had said about the swords was a complete fabrication. They were nothing more than cheap, ordinary blades dressed up to look valuable. As the boy examined the sword Kayne handed him, his expression remained neutral. He then reached into his subspace and pulled out another sword.

Kayne's eyes widened slightly as he took in the boy's weapon. The blade was stunning—a brilliant silver, etched with glowing blue runes that pulsed faintly in the dim light. "He must be loaded," Kayne thought to himself, unable to hide his interest in the fine craftsmanship of the boy's weapon.

The boy stood there silently, holding a sword in each hand, his gaze fixed on the fake blade. Then, without warning, he raised the sword he had brought and struck the edge of Kayne's so-called "masterpiece."

The blue runes on the boy's blade flared to life, their glow intensifying as the two swords clashed. A sharp crack echoed through the shop, and Kayne watched in horror as the fake sword splintered, breaking cleanly into two pieces.

Kayne froze, his mind racing.

Kayne never expected the boy to do something so bold, and now, more importantly, he was caught red-handed. Panic briefly seized him, but he quickly composed himself. He had dealt with situations like this before and knew how to turn the tables.

'It's fine,' he thought. 'I'll just blame him for breaking the sword. He can't prove anything.'

With that, Kayne puffed out his chest and suddenly shouted, "How dare you! Do you know—keuk!"

Before he could finish his sentence, a sharp, searing pain shot through his leg. Kayne looked down, eyes wide in disbelief. The broken half of the fake sword was embedded deep into his thigh, blood staining the fabric of his trousers and pooling on the floor.

"Ugh… y-you bastard!" Kayne screamed, clutching his wounded leg as he stumbled backward, collapsing to the floor. The pain was overwhelming, his breathing ragged.

Kayne wasn't an awakener; he was an ordinary human. The only reason he'd dared to scam awakeners was because this was the black market, a place with strict, unwritten rules. Even seasoned hunters hesitated to act recklessly here. But this boy… he clearly didn't care about such rules.

Kayne's face twisted in pain and fear as he stared at the boy, who now loomed over him like a predator staring down its prey.

Kayne's heart raced with fear, but he didn't let it cloud his judgment. His mind worked quickly, piecing together the situation. This boy knew about him. There was no other explanation for how confidently he had acted. Kayne had underestimated him—he hadn't been some random, gullible buyer.

"W-who are you?" Kayne gasped, trying to keep his voice steady, though his body trembled with both pain and fear.

Daemon stood over him, unbothered by the chaos unfolding. His expression was calm, almost detached, as he looked down at the wounded man.

"Daemon Gracefall," the boy answered simply, his tone flat.

***************

Daemon stared down at Kayne, his expression unreadable, though his sharp eyes revealed the calculation happening in his mind. Kayne wasn't just another scam artist. In the future, he would rise to become one of the leaders of the black market—a feat nearly unheard of for someone who wasn't an awakener. He had no powers, no physical prowess, and yet, through sheer cunning and business acumen, he had managed to climb to the top.

In the game, Kayne's rise was part of a major storyline. Players were tasked with aiding him in unifying the fractured black market under his rule. The goal? To end the rampant sale of illegal goods and bring some semblance of order to the underworld—a mission spearheaded by Arthur, who dreamed of creating a better world.

But Daemon? He didn't care about Arthur's ideals. He had no interest in playing the hero or cleaning up the world's mess. What mattered to him right now was money and power, and Kayne could be useful for both.

Daemon stepped closer, his presence looming over the injured man. Kayne's fear was palpable, his eyes darting around as if searching for an escape that didn't exist. Without a word, Daemon reached down and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him effortlessly.

Kayne struggled, his hands clawing weakly at Daemon's grip, but it was futile. A mere human like him stood no chance against even the weakest awakener, and Daemon was far from weak.

"You'll work for me," Daemon said, his voice cold and firm, leaving no room for argument. Kayne's muffled gasps were the only response he could muster. 

Daemon didn't wait for Kayne to speak. Without a word, he pulled out DX-021 from his storage. The small, white egg with ominous red spots instantly caught Kayne's attention. A chill ran down his spine as his instincts screamed danger. He didn't know what it was, but something about that egg was deeply wrong.

Daemon held the egg in one hand and began pouring his mana into it. The red spots on the egg started to spread, growing larger with every pulse of energy. Seeing the transformation, Daemon's lips curved slightly in satisfaction. It's working, he thought, focusing as he infused more mana into the artifact. The red spots expanded until they consumed the entire surface of the egg, turning it a vivid crimson.

Suddenly, cracks appeared along the shell, and the egg split open. From inside emerged a grotesque, red insect. Its body was slick and segmented, and it had six small, glinting eyes that gave it an unnerving appearance. The creature crawled onto Daemon's hand, its spindly legs moving with eerie precision.

Without hesitation, the insect began making its way toward Kayne. It crawled up his arm and across his face. Kayne's eyes widened in horror, and he tried to scream, but the only sounds he could manage were hoarse, panicked groans. He thrashed weakly, but there was no escape.

The insect continued its journey, pausing only for a moment before slipping into Kayne's nose. Kayne's body jerked in terror as he whimpered helplessly. His hands clawed at Daemon's grip, but they lacked strength.

Daemon watched the scene with cold, unfeeling eyes, his expression unreadable as he held Kayne firmly in place.

Soon, Kayne's resistance faded. His body slumped as Daemon released him, and he collapsed to the floor. Daemon watched him for a moment. Kayne's once defiant expression was now replaced by a blank, hazy look. A small red pattern appeared on his neck, signaling the parasite's effect taking hold.

Kayne lowered his head, his voice empty of resistance. "Master," he murmured, his words hollow.

Daemon grimaced at the sound of the word. "Don't call me that," he said, his voice sharp. "I don't want to hear 'Master' from a man."

"As you wish, my lord," Kayne replied, his tone now obedient and distant.

Daemon nodded once, his eyes cold. "I want you to close your shop in the black market and open a company for me. I'll provide the details of the products we'll sell."

"It will be done, my lord," Kayne answered, his voice devoid of emotion.

Daemon reached into his pouch and handed Kayne a healing potion. "Take this. Treat your wounds, and when you're done, close the shop and come to the capital city."

"Thank you, my lord."

Daemon gave him one last look before turning and walking out of the shop. As he left, he couldn't help but reflect on the power of DX-021. The parasite was a dangerous specimen, capable of overriding the host's will and making them a loyal, unquestioning servant.

After his meeting with Kayne, Daemon made his way back to the academy. He had accomplished what he set out to do for the day. Now, all that remained was to wait for the first event, which was scheduled for next week.

Daemon was drained—physically and mentally. The day had been long, and his mana reserves were running low after using so much for the DX-021. His body felt heavy, and his mind was weighed down by the tasks he had just completed.

Once he reached the academy, Daemon didn't waste any time. He headed straight to his dormitory, barely acknowledging the passing students. The fatigue in his bones was too much to ignore.

Entering his room, Daemon collapsed onto his bed, closing his eyes almost immediately. His mind settled into a quiet stillness, the exhaustion from the day finally catching up with him.

Days passed in a blur, and before Daemon knew it, the day of the event had arrived.

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