A recessed palm print and cracks spreading outward actually appeared on the grayish-white stone wall.
Durin was stunned, feeling a bit dazed.
Although the walls of the Zaun sewers were long overdue for repair and weren't particularly sturdy, since when did he have such great strength?
Wait, has my strength been enhanced?
No, it probably wasn't just the Darkin body modification; it could also be because his proficiency in One-Handed Weapons and Running skills had significantly increased.
But regardless, he could consider this a blessing in disguise.
Durin bent down to pick up two Bell Rat heads that hadn't been burned and stuffed them into his basket. Then he looked at the small Harp, hesitating. His reason told him not to take it, as the thing was too dangerous.
But his sixth sense strongly told him that he must take it; the Harp had already become a part of him, like an arm that couldn't be severed.
After much internal conflict, Durin decided to follow his sixth sense for once. He stuffed the small Harp into the bottom of his basket as well, wrapping it in rags.
Next was to return the way he came.
It took about ten minutes for him to finally climb back up the iron ladder to the pharmacy's warehouse. After stuffing the Bell Rat heads from the warehouse into his basket, he walked out and found the middle-aged man dressed in a simple grayish-white gown.
The middle-aged man smelled the strong scent of blood on Durin and immediately frowned. Especially upon seeing bloodstains on Durin's face, he instinctively distanced himself.
Then, seeing Durin throw three Bell Rat heads onto the ground, the middle-aged man kicked them with a slight look of disgust and asked, 'Is the rat repellent powder all spread?'
'Yes,' Durin confirmed.
Then the middle-aged man asked again, 'You killed these Bell Rats all by yourself?'
Before Durin could answer, the middle-aged man stepped on a mangled Bell Rat head, looked it over, and asked, 'What happened here?'
'I killed them with my weapon; my weapon was ruined because of it,' Durin explained with a smile.
The middle-aged man nodded thoughtfully, took out twenty copper circle coins from his pouch, stuffed them all into Durin's hand, and waved him off.
Before leaving, Durin went to the pharmacy's restroom to wash his face. He glanced at the wall clock to check the time—5:00 PM—and then put on his mask before departing.
Durin felt he needed to go to a tavern for a drink to relax his tense nerves.
Pushing the door open, he found the tavern brilliantly lit by gas lamps. It was nearly six o'clock, yet the seats were only half full; clearly, business was slow.
Ultimately, the poor of Zaun's lower levels couldn't bear to part with a single copper circle coin for beer; only drunks, miners, and gang thugs would sit here for hours on end.
Durin walked straight to the bar and ordered a beer and a chicken burger, spending 6 copper circle coins.
The tavern was somewhat noisy. At the table next to Durin sat several men and women in various styles of dress, speaking loudly.
However, since each of them carried weapons and appeared to be gang thugs, the other customers, though annoyed, chose to keep their distance.
"Hey, have you heard? Black Alley has a new boss!"
"A new boss? What do you mean? Hasn't Black Alley always had one boss?"
"Shh! Are you trying to get killed, discussing this here?"
Normally, Durin might have been interested in such information, but right now he was in no mood. The panic brought on by uncertainty weighed on him, making it difficult to breathe.
He knew why he felt this way: so many things were ambiguous, leaving him unable to grasp his current situation.
How would the Darkin power affect him? Would it shorten his lifespan?
Would it suddenly explode within his body, causing him to burst into a bloody mess of flesh and bone?
Durin couldn't even tell if the flames he had released were a fluke or if he could truly cast Darkin Magic. If he really could, did that make him a mage?
Furthermore, that female Darkin named Stellatu had claimed she would awaken again. When that time came, how should he face her?
From the moment he left the sewers until now as he sat drinking in the tavern, Durin had been carrying the harp.
He couldn't explain it.
He didn't know why he felt compelled to keep it with him, only that it was the answer provided by his instincts.
Sitting at the bar, Durin reflected on what had caused him to become like that.
Perhaps it was his intense craving for power!
He wanted to become strong, to live a decent life in Zaun. He didn't want to be looked down upon by people like Kreslin, who was clearly just an apprentice himself yet maintained a haughty, condescending attitude.
He didn't want to die in obscurity in some back alley of Zaun, forgotten by the world.
So, he wanted to live—to live decently. It was this intense desire for strength that had driven Durin to take the job as a sewer Rat-catcher.
Now, Durin didn't want to be controlled by this Darkin power; he wanted to control it instead. He had to master Darkin Magic, releasing it when necessary and controlling it with ease.
Durin had thought about going to Zaun's academic institution—the College of Techmaturgy—to figure all this out, perhaps to test his magical aptitude. But considering his unique circumstances, he didn't know if they would detect the uncontrollable Darkin power within him.
If he didn't use Darkin Magic, this power was gained for nothing. But if he did use it, he had to worry about being discovered and hunted down as a heretic.
What a dilemma!
Unconsciously, Durin downed glass after glass of beer. He paid another three copper circle coins, totaling twelve large mugs of beer in succession.
Around seven o'clock, a slightly tipsy Durin returned to his small rented room. Even after living there for over half a year, he still felt unaccustomed to it. It was barely larger than the bathroom in his previous life's home, and the bed was tiny; at his current height, his legs would hang off the edge if he stretched out at night.
Relaxing at last, Durin's extreme exhaustion caught up with him, and sleepiness flooded his mind like a deluge.
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