"Because I already got almost mugged there once!" Julien practically shouted, his hands flying up in frustration.
Chris nearly choked on his protein bar, his massive frame whipping around to stare at his best friend in utter disbelief.
"You did? When the hell did that happen?"
"Yeah," Julien said, crossing his arms and looking away in embarrassment.
"It was back when I was drowning in debt, and I wanted to test out my new merchant abilities. Some guy with a knife the size of a shortsword cornered me in an alley, and let me tell you, it was not a fun experience. I am not going back to that death trap."
Alice floated closer, her head tilting in genuine sympathy.
"That explains why your aura always flickers with anxiety whenever someone mentions dark alleys."
Kiara let out a long, exhausted sigh that sounded like it carried the weight of a thousand terrible business decisions. She dragged a hand down her face, her heavy silver rings catching the dim, dusty light of the shop as she tried to process the sheer incompetence of the group she had just joined.
"Fine," Kiara said, her voice dropping into a strictly professional tone that left no room for argument. "If the Hoven is off the table because our fearless leader is afraid of getting his lunch money stolen, then that leaves us with exactly one viable alternative. We have to go to the Black Market. I have a few reliable contacts down there who owe me favours from my uncle's days, and they can get us a secure stall."
Julien's eyes widened so far they almost popped out of his skull. The sheer absurdity of her suggestion actually made him laugh, a nervous sound that echoed off the shop.
"Are you completely out of your mind?" Julien asked, leaning across the wooden table to emphasise his point.
"Isn't the Black Market way more dangerous than the Hoven? The hoven is just full of desperate junkies and low-level street thugs trying to score a quick credit. The Black Market is run by actual, organised syndicates. If they catch us selling unverified system items without paying their extortionate protection fees, they won't just mug us. They will bury us under the floorboards and sell Chris for spare parts."
Kiara shook her head, completely unbothered by his rising panic. She leaned back in her chair and her combat boots back onto the edge of the table, projecting an aura of absolute confidence.
"It is highly dangerous, boss, but we can't afford to play it safe all the time if you actually want to build this shop of yours," Kiara argued, her dark eyes locking onto his with an intense, calculating focus that made Julien feel like a bug under a microscope. "Think about the basic economics of our current situation. It is completely uncertain when that Red Gate is going to fully tear open, which means mass panic has already started setting in across the lower sectors."
She gestured vaguely toward the front window of the shop, pointing out at the grimy streets of District 9.
"Hunters who can't afford the ridiculous markup at the official Association stores are already crowding the underground markets because those are the only places selling cheap survival gear," Kiara explained smoothly. "The demand is skyrocketing by the hour. If we don't get our product down there right now to establish a foothold, some other desperate idiot is going to steal our customer base. We need to go before the real chaos starts and the syndicates lock down the borders."
Julien hated it when other people used logic against him, especially when that logic was undeniably flawless. He gritted his teeth, knowing she was entirely right about the Red Gate panic. Desperation was the greatest sales pitch in the world, and the entirety of District 9 was currently suffocating in it.
"That is unfortunately true," Julien muttered, running a hand through his hair in defeat as he accepted their fate. "Let's go before the entire district empties their wallets to someone else."
As Julien started gathering his heavy coat from the back of his chair, Chris turned around to look at the shadowed corner of the room. He softened his usually loud, booming voice, ensuring he didn't startle the fragile spirit near the ceiling.
"Are you sure you want to come too, Alice?" Chris asked gently, a warm, genuine smile breaking across his face. "It's going to be incredibly crowded, loud, and probably full of paranoid people who aren't exactly friendly to the undead."
Alice floated down, her pale dress shifting without a breeze as she landed softly on the tips of her toes right next to the giant tank. For the first time since they had met her, the heavy sadness that usually anchored her to the basement seemed to have lifted just a fraction.
"Of course I am coming," Alice smiled, a beautiful expression that made her single visible eye crinkle at the corner. "I am already entirely tired of staring at the same four walls of this dreary place, and besides, someone needs to make sure the Merchant doesn't surrender his wallet to the very first thug who looks at him funny."
Chris chuckled deeply, giving her a bright, encouraging nod before lifting his massive, battered shield onto his broad back. The sound of his gear signalled that the party was finally ready to move out and face the city's criminal underbelly.
Stepping out of the Eternal Rest Apothecary, the late afternoon sun of District 9 did very little to warm the cold reality of where they were heading. The underground Black Market was the sector's criminal world's undisputed beating heart, a sprawling maze of canvas tents, rusted shipping containers, and shadowed stalls hidden deep beneath the abandoned subway lines.
More importantly, it was entirely under the guidance of a terrifying man named Kane.
Just hearing that name echo in his own thoughts sent a violent shiver racing down Julien's spine, dragging up a deeply unsettling memory he had been trying very hard to suppress. He vividly remembered the night at the high-end lounge, back when he and Maya had been desperately trying to sell a potion.
Walking into Kane's territory without a formal invitation felt exactly like stepping barefoot into a pit of starving wolves while wearing a suit made of raw steak.
"Alright, before we actually walk down those transit steps and risk our lives in the dark, I need to know exactly what we are working with," Kiara said, abruptly halting their march just outside the graffiti-covered entrance to the subway tunnels. She turned to face Julien, holding her hand out expectantly.
"We can make do with the terrifying syndicate bosses and the desperate, panicking crowds, but I cannot negotiate a monopoly without supply. Show me all your products. I need to see the merchandise in hand."
Julien nodded seriously, fully understanding the heavy stakes of the moment. This was the turning point they had been waiting for. This was where the Eternal Rest Apothecary went from a failing retail dump to a major underground supplier capable of surviving the Red Gate.
He focused his mind, mentally accessing his dimensional inventory with a practised ease. The familiar, comforting gold interface glowed softly in his vision. He selected the specific items, confirming the extraction, and held out his hands as the system materialised his current stock from the void.
Julien carefully handed the five glass bottles over to Kiara, handling them with the utmost safety, as if they were made of spun gold.