"What'll it be?"
Behind the bar, the bartender wiped down a glass with a not-so-clean white cloth, asking in a disinterested tone.
Silas didn't answer. Instead, he scanned the crowd.
The gang leader Charles hadn't lied. There really were Beyonders here. The Shepherd potion inside him stirred with excitement, sensing the presence of "lambs" nearby.
The fat man arguing with someone at the table behind him, the man observing the entire tavern from the corner. Their souls were wrapped in the colors of Beyonder characteristics, shining brilliantly in Silas's eyes.
"What do you want to drink?"
The bartender repeated his question with more emphasis.
"A South Wales ale."
Silas snapped back to attention and replied.
"Four pence."
He tossed out four pence coins, and the bartender served him a golden beer with delicate foam.
Silas looked at the glass but didn't drink.
It wasn't just because he worried that alcohol might cause him to lose control mentally.
It was also because the rag the bartender used to wipe the glass was too filthy, and he didn't want to touch it.
He only ordered the drink as a symbolic "seating fee" to prevent being kicked out.
Silas sat at the bar, staring blankly at his glass, thinking about how to make contact with these people.
Why couldn't he just run into someone who would pick a fight with him, attack him?
That way, he could kill them in self-defense, not only gaining a lamb to shepherd but also communing with their spirit to connect with the Beyonder circle. Should I... start trouble myself?
A dangerous thought rose in his mind, but he quickly suppressed it.
That's the kind of thing those lunatics from the Aurora Order would do. He couldn't follow their example.
It might not be conducive to maintaining his mental stability.
Forget it. I'll just gather some intelligence from them first.
He slightly loosened the restrictions on his hearing, and the sounds of the entire tavern immediately became louder, rushing into his ears like a tide.
Most of it was meaningless drunken babble. But the argument from the table behind him was somewhat different.
"I told you! Some beasts suddenly appeared in the sewers and are guarding my herbs.
Without the herbs, I can't mix what you need!"
The fat man with Beyonder characteristics said in a lowered voice, his tone urgent and helpless. "Unless you can help me clear out those beasts!"
"Those beasts aren't as simple as you say!"
The man at the table with the fat man said angrily, "I must've been out of my mind to believe you. None of the men I sent into the sewers came back!"
"Hmph, maybe they were too weak, couldn't beat the beasts and ran away, too scared to come back to you."
The fat man said stubbornly.
"Bullshit! I won't help you anymore. Give me a straight answer: when can you have what I need ready?"
"If I can't get into the sewers, I'll have to grow the herbs from scratch.
That'll take at least three months."
"Three months? Are you kidding me!"
The other man flew into a rage.
"One week, tops. Otherwise, you can forget about staying in Backlund! We have plenty of ways to make you get lost!"
With that, he got up and left with his men.
The round-faced fat man sat in his chair, took a sip of his drink, then began cursing under his breath.
The flesh on his face jiggling, he cursed quite foully, the gist being that he wanted to engage in more-than-friendly relations with a series of the other man's female relatives.
Seems like a Beyonder who can make potions.
Silas thought to himself, silently suppressing his hearing like turning down the volume when listening to music. The fat man's cursing immediately became quieter.
It's good that he has trouble. I can use this as an opportunity to make contact.
And since he can mix potions, I wonder if he can treat my mental condition and create an effective potion.
Silas waited in the bar for a while until the fat man had a few more drinks and left in a tipsy state before getting up from the bar.
It was already dark outside the bar. Silas walked out the door, and seeing no one nearby, transformed into a shadow and followed the fat man.
"Damn it!"
After leaving the bar, the fat man cursed drunkenly.
He didn't hurry to leave but began to stroll leisurely.
His eyes kept sweeping over the streetwalkers of various styles on both sides of the street, and his face quickly took on a lecherous smile.
Silas was instantly speechless.
You're in urgent trouble, and you still have the mood to look for prostitutes?
Considering that if he didn't approach him now, the fat man would start negotiating prices and wouldn't have time for him, Silas had no choice but to emerge from the shadows and speak up.
"You really are in a leisurely mood. Someone just gave you a deadline, and you're still thinking about finding streetwalkers."
"Ah! Who's there!"
The fat man was startled by Silas suddenly appearing behind him. As he turned around, his chubby hand reached into his pocket and grabbed something.
"Don't be nervous. I'm not planning to do anything to you."
Silas said, "I just overheard your conversation in the bar, so I came out to find you. You're a Beyonder who can mix potions?"
Hearing Silas's words, the fat man relaxed a bit. He looked Silas up and down, then began to chuckle strangely.
"Hey, buddy."
He said to Silas with the boldness of intoxication, "I may be an Apothecary, but I can't cure mental illness. Someone like you should go to a mental hospital.
If you cooperate with treatment honestly, you might be able to delay losing control for a few more days."
What a loose tongue.
Silas looked at him calmly and released the Shepherd's ability.
The originally tipsy fat man suddenly felt that the man in front of him had become extremely terrifying.
The space around him seemed to distort, with hungry and empty killing intent boiling, as if it wanted to swallow his soul and flesh whole.
I'm going to be killed!
No, it's even more terrifying than being killed. My entire body and mind will be devoured completely!
"Ah!"
The fat man's body shook violently, and most of his drunkenness instantly cleared.
"Sober now?"
He heard the other person say lightly.
"Sober, sober."
He nodded frantically, took a potion from his waist pocket, and drank it down.
A strong smell of alcohol immediately emanated from his body, and his originally hazy eyes became clear.
A sobering potion? How convenient.
Silas thought to himself and asked, "Your Beyonder ability can see through my illness? Can you mix a potion to treat my mental condition?"
"I'm just an Apothecary. I can only treat physical ailments. For psychological problems, you need to find those lunatics from the Psychology Alchemists Council."
The fat man said with a bitter face, not expecting that his casual loose tongue would provoke someone he shouldn't have.
"Where can I find the Psychology Alchemists Council?"
"I, I don't know. I only heard my teacher mention that such an organization exists," the fat man said honestly.
"For your situation, the most I can provide is some sedatives that can keep you from going too crazy."
Psychology Alchemists Council. I'll remember that.
Silas glanced at him and said, "How much for the potion?"
"No need to pay. I just hope you can do me a favor."
The other man's eyes darted around.
"I planted a batch of herbs in the sewers, but some beasts appeared and ate quite a few.
If you can get rid of the beasts, I can provide you with potions for free."
Bold enough. You still dare make demands? Aren't you afraid I'll kill you?
"Fine."
Silas thought for a moment and nodded slightly. "Also, you need to provide me with some intelligence."
Since this guy is an Apothecary, he should have contact with the local Beyonder circle, right? That would fulfill my original objective.