Volume 2

Chapter 28: The Irresistible in the Snake’s Eyes

In the lavish room, Hyena exhaled a puff of cigar smoke, his scarred face looking grim in the haze.

“What did Marquis Noel say?” his voice rumbled low and hoarse.

“…He declined your dinner invitation.”

“…”

The man exhaled another plume, asking impassively, “Which marquises in the Imperial Capital can we still contact?”

His subordinate swallowed, “We’ve… reached out to everyone possible.”

“Transcendents?” Hyena asked, expressionless.

“No response from the Ether Academy. Babel Tower declined involvement. The Alchemical Association ignored our messenger. The Zero Point Explorers are willing to help, but only for combat, and their price… is steep.”

“Is the Imperial Capital a place you can hold with just fighting?”

The man who’d swallowed half the black market under Grand Duke Sainthue’s backing sneered, “Grab a quick buck and run—that’s adventurers for you. Other forces or individuals?”

“Some can’t be reached, others are watching and waiting, none have committed…”

The fall of Grand Duke Sainthue hit Hyena not like a storm but a hurricane laced with blazing lightning.

One misstep, and he’d be crushed to dust.

After learning of Sainthue’s downfall, he immediately worked his connections, reaching out to every notable person or force in the Imperial Capital. The results…

Some avoided the mess, some saw the black market as beneath them, some wanted to profit from the reshuffle, others didn’t respond right away… In short, no one was willing to back Hyena.

“Watching…”

Hyena took a deep drag, letting out a chilling chuckle, “To see what I’m capable of, or to wait until I’m half-dead to chain me up?”

He leaned back in his plush chair, silent for a few seconds, then waved, “Hold off for now. For those fence-sitters with vague attitudes, send some gifts to whet their appetites.”

As an opportunist, Hyena knew those greedy beasts were never satisfied, but that very greed gave him an opening.

He exhaled thick smoke, “Loken, contact our old friend in the West Kingdom. Tell him we need new stock—no gender preference, just high quality and fast delivery. We can pay extra.”

After the slaughter three years ago, the slave market in Black Street and the Imperial Capital lay dormant for a long time.

Hyena’s “sheep pen,” reopened half a year ago, had profited massively from that gap.

Though others, envious and bold, resumed the trade, Hyena had secured the main market.

The Hydras’ arrival had forced him to pause his slave trade briefly, but with Grand Duke Sainthue’s favor from the Empress and his lead in mechanized armor development, greed overpowered caution—only Hyena knew the staggering profits this trade brought.

With Sainthue’s death, to maintain his power, he couldn’t cut this revenue stream, no matter how much he feared the Hydras.

As Hyena pondered how to stabilize his position, urgent knocking came from outside.

“Come in.”

A distressed subordinate burst in, saying anxiously, “Boss, trouble at the sheep pen! Someone’s stirring things up!”

Hyena snapped the cigar between his fingers, staring at the man, “Speak… clearly.”

“He contacted Marquis Horamom and, in no time, ruined Horamom’s wife during bidding. Now no one dares bid against him, letting him take all the slaves at rock-bottom prices. He’s definitely here to wreck the place!”

The man took a deep breath, his words dripping with menace, chilling the messenger, “I said to tighten screening this period.”

“He… he had a recommendation and proof from that Snail in the outer market, the one who took over Victor’s shop, with wide connections. We got a lot of potions through him. Though he’s with Lan Zhi, he’s fairly independent, like the Thousand-Legged Insect. We didn’t think Lan Zhi had the guts to challenge you now, so—”

“Enough.”

Hyena cut off his subordinate, standing up expressionlessly, “To the sheep pen.”

Lan Zhi… Rat King.

Not the old Vulture striking first, but you, a rat skulking in the sewers, couldn’t hold back?

“Have you started digging into his background?”

“Just started. He… calls himself Faust.”

Hyena’s steps halted abruptly.

“Faust…”

“Faust?!”

***

The auction paused abruptly.

“Mr. Faust.”

A gentle, pleasant voice called from outside, “Sorry to disturb you. May I have a moment?”

“Come in,” Anselm patted Hitana, who was idly squatting beside him, her head resting on his leg, “I was about to ask why the auction stopped.”

A woman entered, her face pure and sweet, her figure seductive in a sleeveless, tight dress.

She curtsied to Anselm, then spoke softly, “Mr. Faust, I’m Lilith, the manager of Dream Demon’s Haven.”

Swaying her hips, she approached with a captivating air and pitiful expression, “I’m so sorry for dampening your mood. I came to apolo—”

“Hey.”

A hand landed on her shoulder, but it wasn’t just the force that stopped Lilith.

It was the ferocious gaze from behind, like a terrifying beast’s stare.

“Stand there,” the wolf behind her said coldly, “That’s enough.”

“Hit,” Anselm sipped his drink, “Show some respect to the host.”

“…Huh?”

The terrifying menace vanished as if it never existed.

The tall girl behind Lilith whined, “No way, Master, you don’t have to be nice to… sniff… ugh!”

Miss Dog retched after sniffing, releasing Lilith with disgust and scurrying to Marina’s side, muttering about whether she’d picked up some weird smell.

Even Lilith, seasoned in handling conflicts, couldn’t stop her face from twitching.

Though Anselm had told Hitana to be respectful, he didn’t glance at Lilith, resting his cheek in his hand, gazing through the one-way glass at the now-sparser auction hall, “No need for apologies. If the reason’s valid, I can accept it.”

“…It’s like this.”

Lilith, usually adept at steering conversations and charming marquises, paused, her breathing quickening.

She wasn’t sure if it was the collared slave girl’s intimidation or the mysterious man’s unbreachable aura.

“There’s an issue backstage. To ensure your experience and present each lamb at their best, we need a little time,” she forced a flattering, humble smile, “In the meantime, is there anything I can do to satisfy you?”

“Satisfy” made Hitana’s ears twitch.

Standing by Marina, she shot Lilith a disdainful look, then covered her nose and turned away, her expression shifting.

Marina felt no strong contempt for the woman, only that her approach was lacking.

Trying to be humble but too subservient, aiming to please Mr. Anselm but with crude methods…

Offering her body without considering his preferences—such cheap tactics would make him feel insulted.

She’s not worthy of speaking to Mr. Anselm; at most, she could talk to me—Marina thought, then hesitated.

Unlike Hitana, she had no right to overstep and she was startled by her own ambition, her transformation.

Was it Madam’s words that influenced me?

Marina placed a hand on her chest, lost in thought.

Anselm didn’t respond to Lilith, staring at the auction hall, lost in his own thoughts.

The mounting pressure in the prolonged silence grew unbearable for Lilith.

Her throat tightened.

She’d faced such situations before and managed, but this time… why couldn’t she utter a word?

Fortunately, the oppressive silence didn’t last long.

The true master of this underground slave market hurried in.

“What an… unimaginable guest.”

The man’s voice was low and hoarse but brimming with genuine enthusiasm, “The great dragon slayer, legendary explorer Mr. Faust—I never expected your visit.”

“…Hm?”

Anselm tilted his head, eyeing the rugged Hyena at the door with interest, “I didn’t expect anyone in the Imperial Capital to remember my name.”

“Hahaha, you jest. How could no one remember a powerhouse who rivaled the Dragon Tongue Grand Duke?”

Marina knew this was flattery.

Because Anselm, as Faust, faced the Dragon Tongue Grand Duke three years ago, that arrogant duke who tamed the Dragon Clan would never let such a fight spread widely.

Faust’s fame was mostly confined to the West Kingdom.

This Mr. Hyena wasn’t as brutish as he appeared.

As Marina thought this, Hitana stepped to Anselm’s side, positioning herself between him and Hyena, staring intently, her nostrils flaring slightly.

The wind, her domain, let her see through him instantly.

Hm… not bad.

If I aim right, three punches should kill him.

Only then did Hitana realize most people were already beneath her.

Always facing monsters like the Supreme Nine Seats, full-powered Contract Heads, the Grand Princess, or the current Hydra, she thought she was weak… but a couple of strolls showed few could survive one of her punches.

She marveled—Contract Heads were absurd.

Without their dual power, she’d never crush transcendents like chickens so easily.

Haha, good thing I’m a Contract Head!

Not needing reason feels great!

Seeing Anselm silent, Hyena spoke eagerly, “If I’d known it was you… why bother with this auction? Pick whatever you need.”

“What if I want them all?” Anselm asked with a light chuckle.

“Then take them all.”

Hyena answered without hesitation, “It’s their honor to catch your eye.”

“Seems Mr. Hyena is a shrewd businessman.”

The young noble lounged in his chair, “I like shrewd businessmen. They bring me plenty of benefits.”

Hyena’s heart skipped a beat.

The legendary Faust stood, stepping in front of his attendant, chin slightly raised, “I’ll be honest, Mr. Hyena. Since returning, I feel like I’m missing a lot.”

“Power demands consumption,” Hyena quickly responded, bowing respectfully, “For a powerhouse like you, the demands are vast. It’s normal not to focus on trivialities.”

Whether “returning” was a pretext didn’t matter.

What mattered was a top-tier fifth-rank transcendent, capable of clashing with a grand duke, stood before him.

Such independent transcendents were rare in the Empire.

Grand dukes, often from ancient lineages, had resources far beyond ordinary transcendents.

Hyena sought marquises not for noble titles but for the deep-rooted transcendent families behind them.

With such a powerhouse here, what was there to hesitate about?

As for conspiracies or threats, why would a top-tier fifth-rank like Faust stoop to deceive him for black market profits?

The black market’s value, while high, wasn’t that high.

Besides, these doubts weren’t doubts before reality.

Hyena had no choice.

The watching greedy beasts wanted him to fight desperately, reshuffling the black market to their benefit.

Letting those old vultures profit was the worst option, only chosen in utter desperation.

Now, a better opportunity stood before him… This Mr. Faust seemed the ideal partner for any businessman—caring only for profit, nothing else.

If the price wasn’t too steep, Hyena would pledge his loyalty without hesitation.

—Dear Mr. Faust presented himself so perfectly, always the ideal image in everyone’s mind.

“So, about handling those trivialities… Does Mr. Hyena have any suitable candidates?”

“If you don’t mind,” Hyena bowed slightly, “I’d like to try.”

Anselm laughed heartily, “You’re straightforward. I like that. Let’s be clear then.”

“Fifty percent.”

The lesser-known Faust said leisurely, “I take half your revenue. In exchange, any backstage issues—you come to me.”

Hyena didn’t lack muscle or resources, just a backer to hold his position.

The black market was split among four leaders, but in truth, it was a playground for nobles and transcendents to siphon profits.

Mortals and lesser transcendents schemed, fought, and died here for scraps, while the big players mocked their weakness, reaping wealth they’d never earn in a lifetime without lifting a finger.

Some didn’t even care for the money—just found it amusing to watch these people struggle in the great Imperial Capital’s chaos.

“Your generosity and kindness… move me deeply,” Hyena bowed low, “But I dare not claim such wealth. Mr. Faust, please take seventy percent. The remaining thirty is more than enough for me.”

He wasn’t lying—Grand Duke Sainthue took seventy percent.

Hyena wasn’t elated by Anselm’s “equal” split. On the contrary, he knew… When dealing with such figures, thinking of yourself as their “equal” was the worst mistake.

Inequality was absolutely correct, absolutely reasonable.

Facing a top-tier fifth-rank like Faust, shedding all dignity wasn’t wrong if needed.

This was the absolute dominance of transcendent power, the stark difference in life’s essence.

Mortals bowed to transcendents, and transcendents bowed to higher transcendents.

This was the world’s… eternal truth.

“Since you put it that way…”

Mr. Faust pretended to ponder, then chuckled, shaking his head, “I’ll accept your goodwill—Hit.”

He tilted his chin slightly, “Give Mr. Hyena some confidence.”

“Huh, what?” The girl, silent and exuding cold strength, broke into a goofy tone, “How?”

“Show Mr. Hyena… how many punches it’d take to kill him—no real hits, just make a point.”

Hitana, eager at the first half, nearly lunged to punch Hyena’s head but deflated at the second, muttering, “Got it, Master.”

Grumbling, she strode toward the tensing Hyena, stopping about three meters away.

“…How may I address this lady?” Hyena forced a smile on his rugged face.

“Hm… if you don’t brace yourself,” Hitana tilted her head, “one punch will kill you.”

Before Hyena could respond, she stepped forward and—

Boom!

The booth’s wall exploded with a violent gust from her punch, leaving a gaping hole and a massive crater in the wall beyond.

“…”

Hyena, head turned, a blood mark slowly forming on his face, felt his heart nearly stop.

“Hit,” the master of this fierce hound chided, “I said no real moves.”

“I didn’t,” the girl said innocently, “I knew he’d dodge, so it’s not real, right?”

Knowing he’d dodge meant knowing where to aim.

“You really weren’t ready at all,” Hitana, who’d closed the three-meter gap in an instant and struck, shook her head, retracting her fist, “Aiming for the head, one punch would’ve killed you. Boring.”

This left Hitana slightly melancholic.

This Hyena was fourth-rank, likely a weak one, but fourth-ranks were rare in the Empire.

Where could she find prey worthy of her devouring, to fuel her growth?

“Did Hit give you confidence, Mr. Hyena?”

“…I’ve never doubted your strength, Lord Faust.”

Anselm smiled, “Good, because I have a task for you.”

“The slave market took a hit three years ago, but you’ve revived it, haven’t you?”

Anselm walked toward the door, Hitana and Marina hurrying after, while Hyena, head lowered, pondered his words.

“Just luck,” he answered cautiously.

“I think… this market could grow bigger, much bigger. Since you’re leading it, why not make it yours entirely?”

Anselm’s casual tone made Hyena’s heart pound.

After a pause, he said hoarsely, “But the risk is high, Lord Faust. Not only would I offend other backers, but there’s also the chance…”

“…It could provoke that young Hydra who despises the slave trade.”

“You’re already doing it, and you’re still afraid?”

“Being the sole power versus a divided landscape is different… Of course, it’s just a suggestion,” he quickly added, “If you need me to do this, Hyena will not hesitate.”

“Then do it. Make sure to gather all the slaves—they’re valuable goods and assets. I don’t want any damage, understand?”

With that, the mysterious Faust left with the two women by his side.

“…Boss,” Hyena’s confidant whispered, “This Faust has too many—”

Hyena silenced him with a slap, staring expressionlessly.

After a long pause, he said slowly, “Now, immediately, mobilize everyone. Clear out all the sheep pens in Black Street and take over with our people.”

“Now?”

“Heh… Is there a better time than when everyone thinks I’m finished?”

The despair of a dead end had fueled his resentment, but this miraculous turn gave him confidence, and that lord’s subtle “guidance” led Hyena to what he believed was the right choice.

***

“Anselm, Anselm!” In the empty corridor, Hitana leaned close to Anselm’s ear, whispering, “Why go through all this? Just beat those guys to a pulp and toss them onto the street—easy, right? You told me to protect Lina, so you were planning to act directly, weren’t you?”

“Because I thought of something,” Anselm said calmly, “Some things even power can’t defy.”

Marina, who memorized all of Anselm’s words, felt her heart skip—something power couldn’t defy…

In this world, anyone might say such a thing, but for Anselm, a divine being…

The Empress’s power let her dominate everything, making the Empire her toy, and Anselm wielded equal power.

What could make him say this… Could it be the key to what forced him to give up something?

As Marina pondered, Anselm chuckled lightly, “So, instead of using force for temporary peace, it’s better to solve the problem once and for all… though that’s unlikely.”

“Laurence.”

“Oh! Need me to do something, Young Lord?”

“Take us to a high place overlooking the black market. Let’s watch a good show.”

Anselm murmured softly, “Let me, after so long, experience that perspective again.”

Black Street, black market.

A region beneath the upper city’s walls, bordering the lower city—a place where chaos was ordered.

Countless factions, countless backers.

This “market,” this “street,” existed not by nature but because someone needed it, wanted it.

It thrived on the Empire’s darkness and sin, taking root in the shadows of the city walls.

It was a small world, its environment, rules and growth artificially manipulated—an absurd world.

Just like the world in Anselm’s eyes.

But this time, he wasn’t a speck of dust within it.

He was the “irresistible” overlooking this absurd world from above.

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