I stuffed the frozen pieces of the monster into a dirty burlap sack. The bag was heavy, and Arthur's weak arms burned with the effort. But I didn't stop. In this world, money meant survival.
Before leaving the cellar, I needed to hide my face. More importantly, I had to hide the Old World monocle stuck to my right eye.
I dug through Arthur's pile of stolen junk and found a thick, dark grey wool scarf and a battered leather flat cap. I pulled the cap down low over my forehead and wrapped the scarf tightly around the lower half of my face. Only my eyes were visible. Through the left eye, the world was dark. Through the right eye, the monocle glowed with a faint, hidden blue light.
I grabbed the heavy sack and climbed up the dirt wall, pushing past the broken iron grate and out into the alley.
The Umbra was just as cold and terrifying as before. The thick, green Aether-fog rolled over the cobblestones. High above, the giant, violet Eye of the Black Hole stared down at the city.
I kept my head down and walked.
Through Arthur's memories, I knew exactly where to go. Deep in the slums, away from the eyes of the Church Inquisitors, there was an illegal trading spot called the Rust Exchange. It was a place where scavengers, thieves, and murderers did business.
Thanks to the monocle, the walk was easy. The lens showed me the thermal heat of people hiding in the alleys. If I saw a bright red glow of heat ahead, I knew it was a gang of thugs or a monster, and I took a different street. I felt like I was playing a video game with a map that showed me where all the enemies were.
After thirty minutes of walking, I heard the loud hissing of steam pipes and the murmur of voices.
The Rust Exchange was located inside the hollowed-out shell of an old, ruined train station. The glass roof was shattered, letting the green fog drift inside. Gas lamps burned with cold blue fire, lighting up rows of dirty metal stalls. People in heavy coats and masks were trading rusty gears, stolen food, and strange glowing liquids.
I tightened my grip on the sack and walked toward a stall near the back.
The merchant was a large, old man with half of his face covered in burn scars. He wore heavy leather gloves and was smoking a pipe that smelled like burning rubber. He traded in Aberration parts—monster pieces.
I dropped the heavy burlap sack onto his metal table with a loud thud.
The old man didn't look up right away. "I only buy fresh meat, boy. If it's rotten, take it to the trash."
I didn't say anything. I just untied the rope and pulled the bag open.
The old man looked inside. His eyes went wide. He dropped his pipe.
Inside the bag, the chunks of the monster were completely frozen. They looked like pieces of black glass. Even in the warm, crowded market, they weren't melting. The absolute cold of my Negative Flux had frozen the meat down to the bone.
"By the Eye..." the old man whispered. He looked around nervously to make sure no Inquisitors were watching. "This is a Class-2 Aberration. But... it's completely frozen. No burn marks. No bullet holes. How did it die?"
I kept my voice low and rough, hiding behind my scarf. "I didn't kill it. I found it in an alley near Sector 4. Looks like the cold got to it."
It was a lie, but a smart one. I was just a skinny teenager. If I told him I killed a monster with my bare hands, he would know I was a Heretic. By saying I just found it, I was just a lucky scavenger.
The old man gave me a suspicious look, but greed took over. Frozen monster parts were incredibly rare. The meat wasn't spoiled by heat or bullets, making it perfect for medicine and alchemy.
"I'll give you fifty silver gears for the whole bag," the old man said, trying to cheat me.
My monocle flared. Through the lens, I looked at the old man's pockets. The lens detected a large amount of thermal energy coming from his coin purse. He had a lot of money.
"A hundred silver gears," I said firmly. "And I want three things from your back shelf."
The old man frowned, but he knew he was still getting a great deal. He grunted and reached under his table, tossing a heavy leather pouch of coins onto the counter. "Fine. Take your silver. What else do you want?"
I pointed to a pair of thick, dark leather goggles hanging on the wall. "Those. They will hide my eyes completely."
He tossed them to me.
Next, I pointed to a heavy, black leather trench coat. It was thick enough to hide my skinny body and keep the freezing wind out. "That coat."
He threw the coat on the table. "And the last thing?"
I looked at the glass case behind him. Inside were rusty knives, brass knuckles, and tools. But sitting in the corner was a heavy, dark metal revolver. It looked old, but it was well-oiled.
"The gun," I said. "And a box of bullets."
The old man laughed a dry, raspy laugh. "A gun won't save you from the monsters in the dark, boy."
"Maybe not," I replied, putting the dark goggles over my eyes to hide the Old World monocle. "But it will save me from people."
I put on the heavy black coat, slipped the heavy revolver into my pocket, and grabbed the bag of silver coins. I felt different. I wasn't just Arthur the starving orphan anymore. I was armed. I was hidden. And I had money.
I turned away from the stall and walked back out into the green fog of the Umbra.
I needed to find a safe place to sleep, eat a real meal, and start planning. If I was going to uncover the secrets of the Black Hole, I had to learn how this world worked.