Chapter 18: 18. The Man at the Dead End

Mute Wind Town, a remote settlement at the southernmost edge of the United Kingdom, drew a vast number of adventurers and traveling merchants thanks to its proximity to the Amethyst Dungeon, its prosperity rivaling that of certain mid-sized cities.

The Adventurers' Guild even established a regional branch here.

Thanks to the dungeon's resources, this place boasts quite a few specialty products.

But as for Mute Wind Town's most recognizable landmark, it is neither precious high-purity mana crystals nor the myriad types of monster materials, but the unique brew of the Rotten Willow Tavern—a foul liquid notorious for its reputation.

Even adventurers who have never set foot here have surely heard of this foul wine, which reeks of mold and rot and is said to be potent enough to kill walking mushrooms just by being splashed.

With such quality, the owner still dilutes it with more water than wine itself.

Yet, with a pricing strategy of merely one copper coin per cup, it remains an irreplaceable drink for low-level adventurers.

Naturally, the Rotten Willow Tavern has become the gathering place for all bottom-tier adventurers.

In Mute Wind Town, if you randomly pull anyone aside, they might not know where the Adventurers' Guild office is, but they will certainly know the location of the Rotten Willow Tavern.

Today, the Rotten Willow Tavern was, as usual, packed with people from all walks of life.

They guzzled the foul wine in large mouthfuls and loudly chatted about recent gossip.

Such as the increasingly frequent minor provocations by the Empire of Hermits at the border;

or how, three months ago, the Silver Thorn Squad ventured deep into the lower levels of the dungeon to rescue the duke's daughter and received an extremely rare, ultra-high reward—a city.

Now, the name "Silver Thorn" has become a benchmark legend in the adventurer trade; in the eyes of every tavern-goer raising a glass to them burns a desire for fame and wealth.

When a haggard man with unkempt stubble pushed open the tavern's wooden door, no one cast him an extra glance—such figures were everywhere in the tavern.

The man scanned the room and walked straight toward a fat man sitting alone in the corner, who was sipping from a wooden cup in small mouthfuls, treating that inferior turbid wine as if it were some fine vintage.

Seeing the man sit opposite him, the fat man called out his name:

"Dylan, it's been many years.

Didn't you retire? What do you want from me?

Don't tell me you miss this old buddy of yours, or I'll vomit."

"Fatso, are you still doing that business?"

The fat man's nickname was simply Fatso; facing him, Dylan made no pretense and stated his purpose directly, causing the fat man opposite to jump in surprise.

He quickly scanned the surroundings, and seeing no one paying attention to this corner, he lowered his voice and said angrily:

"What are you doing? You're practically saying that word out loud; do you want to get me killed?"

Seeing the fat man burning with rage, Dylan instead grew excited.

"You really are still at it. Quick, give me three portions."

Saying this, he pulled a money pouch from his chest and pushed it in front of the fat man; inside were 27 silver coins.

The fat man narrowed his eyes, did not touch the pouch, and instead studied the man before him carefully.

Compared to seven years ago, Dylan had aged greatly; his body was no longer as sturdy, and the calluses on his hands had almost vanished.

"Sorry, Dylan, I can't sell to you.

Judging by your appearance, you've long abandoned the skills you once used to eat.

We are old friends at least; I can't watch you go to your death."

Dylan suddenly grabbed the fat man's collar, his bloodshot eyes revealing the madness of a person driven to a dead end.

But the fat man simply stared quietly into his eyes.

After a long while, Dylan released his grip, slumped down completely, and pleaded in a low voice:

"Fatso, please, my daughter was infected with blood poison during a border mission.

I need money, a lot of money.

I don't know of any other way besides this... please..."

The fat man fell silent.

Blood poison—the vampires' most sinister technique.

Those infected with blood poison do not die immediately but are slowly transformed into blood-eaters amidst agony.

These monsters, transformed from humans, retain their memories from before the transformation yet cannot suppress their bloodthirsty desires; even when facing their own kin, they will tearfully devour them.

Only when facing vampires do they become completely obedient slaves.

There are cures, of course; the two most widely known are the Church's blessing or the Rebirth Potion.

Both can save the infected before they are fully transformed.

However, neither is accessible to the lower classes.

The former requires a bishop-level figure to personally perform a baptism over several days, while the latter demands the sky-high price of 50 gold coins.

Even if a bishop-level figure has money, connections may not be within reach; Dylan's target was clearly the latter.

So how could Dylan, who was merely a Silver-rank adventurer even at his peak and whose strength has now severely declined, earn 50 gold coins in such a short time?

Methods to make money quickly boil down to two types: one dangerous, one illegal.

And naturally, those who engage in both earn money the fastest.

On the fifth floor of the Amethyst Dungeon exists a notorious magical plant—the Parasitic Tree.

True to its name, it captures living humans, forcibly implants tree seeds into them, and turns them into new tree stumps; those who become stumps serve as their mobile legs.

During this process, the brain of the parasitized is irreversibly destroyed; even if rescued, they are merely living shells, which is why they are so infamous.

However, few know that the seeds of the Parasitic Tree are an excellent material for mental potions.

But due to its extremely inhumane production method, the United Kingdom has listed it as a contraband, restricting both its circulation and the spread of this knowledge.

Yet the more it is forbidden, the higher the profit.

And where there is profit, people will naturally do it secretly.

The item in the fat man's possession, known as Deep Sleep Powder, is an essential tool for harvesting Parasitic Tree fruits, and it is also what Dylan wants to buy.

However, harvesting Parasitic Tree fruits is no easy task where one simply runs over, grabs them, and returns.

The parasitic trees were low in level but vast in number, concentrated in the swamp terrain of the fifth floor.

Moreover, the most troublesome thing was that they could use the skills or magic of their hosts.

Just imagine being besieged by a dozen or even dozens of parasitic trees, each possessing different skills and magic; even a high-level adventurer would, if they slipped up, die there with regret.

Then they would be made into new, stronger parasitic trees.

This was a type of magical plant whose danger far exceeded its level.

Seeing Dylan's expression, Fatty knew that to earn as much as possible, he would definitely go alone.

Of course, in reality, even if he wanted to find someone to form a party for this in his current state, no one would take him.

Fatty could almost be certain that he would die down there.

But... Fatty had a daughter a few years ago; she was his heart's flesh.

He knew that letting Dylan watch his only daughter slowly turn into a Blood-Eating Ghost would probably be more painful and desperate than death.

"Sigh—" Fatty let out a long sigh, took the money bag on the table, and secretly slipped five small bags to Dylan.

"Five portions!?"

"This stuff is much cheaper than back then. Considering we are old friends, I won't make a profit from you. If your luck is good enough... this one trip will be enough."

"Thank you... thank you..." Dylan clutched the bag tightly, as if grasping hope, and hurriedly left the tavern.

And Fatty picked up that cup of cheap wine again and took small sips.

"Tsk, I actually lost 73 silver.

My heart is so soft; I guess I'm getting old and not fit for this line of work anymore.

I should retire and go back to my hometown in a while..."

(End of this chapter)