Chương 73: Firearms

Evel continued spending much of his days the same, adding one extra task on top: exploring the slums. There was something there, something big. He just knew it. If he were able to uncover it, he'd easily be able to afford to keep taking Sunken Vials and could finally comfortably afford another big-ticket purchase. The biggest contender for his next purchase was obvious: upgraded weapons. But recently, a second option had steadily climbed up his priority list. Rest pods.

The days were getting busy, and he was left with practically no extra time whenever extra tasks like exploring the slums came along. Between training, helping others at the circus, training his own magician skills, and circus busywork, time had become a scarce commodity. Even now, he was giving up his evening runs and some of his personal magician practice to try to make some progress in his investigations. Either way, it would be worth it in the end; the rest pods would pay for themselves in time saved.

The pods would add another constant cost for the fuel, about 2 credits per use. On top of the 10 Credits twice a week for Sunken Vials, if he used the pods almost every other day, his weekly cost would increase to 26. Instead of waiting for another windfall of credits, he made the purchase immediately for 500 credits. The pod was kept at Albert's since Evel didn't want to pay an extra fee to then discreetly move it over to his house. Not that it really mattered, since he spent the mornings there regardless.

Although he was now quite poor in terms of his credits, his days were longer, so he once again had time to squeeze in all the activities he wanted to do. Unfortunately, his investigations into the slums made practically no progress. He explored the area cautiously, almost every single day, but the only constant was the eerie lack of activity. Before he knew it, the next performance at the Ichoris Legerdemain arrived, reeling in a grand total of 400 people.

The extra temporary staff handled simple tasks, so they worked twice a week. Once on Saturdays for basic practice, then once again on Sundays for a few trial runs and the actual performance. This resulted in their pay being significantly lower than the original four, and along with the small commission earned on food and drinks from nearby vendors, they were almost profitable. When Evel began his circus in the slums, this hadn't even been a goal, but the increase in activity was certainly promising.

Instead of letting the circus continue to naturally grow and take the extra Riak, Evel decided to double down. With his proof of success, Agent gladly lent him even more Riak, which he used to pay off the four additional members' debts and hire them as full-time workers. Then, to replace them, he personally hired another four temporary staff. The week after that passed by even quicker than the previous, and the next performance arrived, reeling in 480 people.

Having achieved everything he set out to achieve in the slums, he told Mateo to make the big announcement.

"Next week's performance is cancelled, and from now on, our performances will continue on a biweekly schedule. If you're still interested in the miraculous performances of The Oracle Hand, then you can find us in Upper-Ichoris next week!" Finally, what Evel and his workers had been working towards constantly would finally come to fruition. With a grand total of thirteen workers, nine permanent, including himself, and four temporary, the circus was finally ready to tackle the next stage: Upper-Ichoris.

A momentous milestone that would bring him one step closer to getting the valuable information that he sought. If everything went right, his failures in the western slums could be overcome, and he'd be able to acquire a ton of credits every performance. Under ideal circumstances, he'd even get a hold of Dissent! The good news didn't stop, however. Just the day after the performance, Evel finally made some progress on the activities in the western slums.

In the exact same spot as he had seen the first time, three figures were once again loading and unloading pouches of metallic items from trailer to trailer. Evel frequented this spot, alternating which time of day he'd arrive each time. In his exploration, he'd found a well-hidden hiding spot just behind a cracked wall. It was just large enough for him to peek through without being discovered, and the spot was just close enough that he could make out their words.

Of the three, there was still one figure in a hood—the man with the icewood hammer, but the two individuals beside him were in the midst of casual conversation. This time, he was close enough to make out their voices, and he instantly recognized them. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. It was the two Redigo workers who'd trailed him in the past. A copper-haired man who usually looked a little angry, and a short, smug man with wavy brown hair.

"You're crying wolf." Graham scoffed.

"I swear, this time it's true." Blake insisted.

"Let's not pretend you haven't said the same thing a thousand times already." Blake went silent, then, after a few seconds, sighed.

"Tch. Fine, I'll tell you." Blake paused, taking a deep breath.

"I talked to her father yesterday, after we finished the task at the auction house. Apparently, my little crush wasn't unrequited."

"Piggy?"

"Dude." Graham chuckled.

"Your nickname, not mine."

"Grow up, man, that was the old me. I've seen a new light." Graham groaned.

"Seriously, he's a pretty cool dude."

"Shit, so you're actually serious this time…"

"Dead serious." Graham shook his head, "I'm shocked you had it in you to actually act."

"Man fuck you, since when have you done anything?" Graham didn't reply.

"You know the guy with the funky name we trailed a few weeks back?"

"Eth?"

"Him, yeah. He's got this guy that's working for him—The Oracle Hand. I checked out the circus yesterday after hearing some rumours, and the tricks are actually insane."

"Your plan is to bring her to the slums? Have you considered a plan that isn't stupid?"

"They're expanding north of the river next week. I'll take her then." For a while, the two stood in silence.

"What was it?"

"Huh?"

"What changed?" Blake paused before sighing again.

"Colton's returning in less than a bit over a month." Graham raised an eyebrow.

"He already got the credits he needs?"

"Not only that, he's already begun the initial stages of learning to weave. He's also getting pretty close to the threshold of advancement. At this point, it's just a matter of time."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

"He's not making it easy for us to delude ourselves, is he?" Blake nodded, "I'm planning on eventually switching to Book, if things go my way."

"Good call," Graham snickered.

"You were never gonna survive near the frontlines either way."

"Fuck off."

"Alright." The deep rumbling voice of the Weaver interrupted them.

"The firearms are of good quality, and fully loaded; you can take them whenever." Graham smiled politely.

"Thank you. When will the next batch be ready?"

"Three weeks." The hooded man calmly replied.

"So long?" The air grew cold.

"Is this a question from Vito or yourself?" Graham waved his hands and quickly apologized.

"I wouldn't dare to ask such a question myself. I apologize for my poor wording." The man locked eyes with Graham for a few seconds.

"Fine." He replied coldly, maintaining eye contact.

"18 days. If he still has complaints, tell him to come here himself." Without waiting for a reply, the man turned around and walked toward the broken house ahead of him. A soft light emanated from his bracelet as he placed his hand on the broken doorknob. Evel had taken a good look at the building before, and he knew the inside of the building didn't lead anywhere. He twisted, then pushed, revealing an impossible scene. The inside of the door didn't match the building at all.

The floor and ceilings were made of pristine, shiny metal, and the hum of machinery spread outward. The deeper parts were hidden by a thick, white smoke that the man's hooded body slowly dissipated into. Then, the door violently shut. Before Blake or Graham began moving, Evel quietly slipped away. Avid's image flickered on.

"As I suspected, this little event probably has nothing to do with Dissent. Still, you managed to reel in a pretty big fish. I will warn you, though, if information of this level is traced back to you, it could put you in a very dangerous position. Still, I imagine Prachar will try their best to pretend they figured it out themselves." Evel fell back on his bed and stared at the ceiling. His tireless work had actually paid off. He'd taken the big risk and now had rewards to show for it.

With how the Redigo workers behaved, a part of him almost believed it was a normal business exchange, until, of course, that weird teleportation door appeared. Firearms were strange. As far as Evel knew, they were a fairly new invention that harnessed the power of smokepowder rather than Energy. Certain criminal groups would arm their laymen with such weapons. It essentially elevated them a full tier, able to take on those in the Core stage, a truly terrifying weapon.

The reason more people didn't use it at higher levels was that no higher tiers of smokepowder were available. Or at least that's how he understood it. So why was Redigo carrying around weapons that were mostly only useful to Laymen? He didn't know, but it also didn't matter anymore. He would earn his rewards, then move on to the next information. Hopefully, on Dissent. His mind went back to the much-anticipated opening in Upper Ichoris less than a week away. This time, he took extra steps to get the opening right.

In the slums, it hadn't mattered since he considered it more 'training' than a real performance. In the future, the number of guests actually mattered, and even more, the quality of said guests. He had already talked with Steven, the owner of the store near his house, about doing some promotions, and had placed posters around the city, but he had a few other things planned. First, he'd use his fame from the slums to carry it forward into the main city.

All his workers had Wednesday off with a simple task: walking around and spreading rumors of the past performances. They wouldn't even need to tell lies with the amount of success they'd accidentally achieved. Second, he'd go and personally invite the Mayor. Back when he had been pursued by his two stalkers, he'd told the Mayor he'd eventually expand to the main city. If the Mayor himself actually attended, it would instantly legitimize the circus and get a fresh wave of new people.

Evel pushed himself off his bed and stretched his body. He sat down on the carpet in a lotus position and allowed his eyelids to fall. As the translucent hand materialized just above his head, he took deep, steady breaths. So much to do.