Chapter 18: 18 People at a Dead End

Dumb Wind Town, a remote town located at the southernmost tip of the United Kingdom, attracted a large number of adventurers and passing merchants due to its advantage of being adjacent to the Amethyst Dungeon, and its prosperity could rival some medium-sized cities.

The Adventurers' Guild even established a regional branch here.

Thanks to the resources of the dungeon, there were quite a few local specialties here.

But in terms of the most recognizable landmark of Dumb Wind Town, it was neither precious high-purity magic crystals nor the wide variety of monster materials, but the unique brew of the Rotten Willow Tavern—a turbid liquid notorious for its bad reputation.

Even adventurers who had never set foot here must have heard of this inferior liquor that emitted a moldy and rotten smell, which was said to be enough to kill a Walking Mushroom just by splashing it out.

With this quality, the boss even mixed more water into it than the liquor itself.

However, the pricing strategy of only one copper coin per cup still made it an irreplaceable drink for bottom-tier adventurers.

Naturally, the Rotten Willow Tavern also became a gathering place for all bottom-tier adventurers.

In Dumb Wind Town, if you grabbed someone at random, they might not know where the Adventurers' Guild office was, but they would definitely know the location of the Rotten Willow Tavern.

Today, the Rotten Willow Tavern was also crowded with all kinds of people as usual.

They gulped down inferior liquor and talked loudly about recent gossip.

For example, the increasingly frequent small actions of the Hermit Empire on the border;

Or, for example, three months ago, the Silver Thorn squad went deep into the deep zone of the dungeon to rescue the Duke's daughter and obtained an extremely rare and super-high reward—a city.

Nowadays, the two words "Silver Thorn" had become a benchmark legend in the adventurer trade, and in the eyes of every drinker who raised a glass for them, the desire for fame and wealth burned.

When a tired man with messy stubble pushed open the wooden door of the tavern, no one cast extra glances—such figures were everywhere in the tavern.

The man scanned the room and walked straight to the fat man sitting alone in the corner, who was sipping from a wooden cup, the inferior turbid liquor being tasted in his hand as if it were some fine wine.

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

"Dylan, it's been years.

Didn't you retire? What are you looking for me for?

Don't tell me you missed me, old buddy; I'll throw up."

"Fatty, are you still doing that business?"

The fat man's nickname was just Fatty; facing him, Dylan didn't have any cover and stated his purpose directly, shocking the fat man opposite him so much that his eyelids twitched.

He hurriedly scanned the surroundings, and seeing that no one cared about this corner, he lowered his voice and said angrily:

"What are you doing? You're almost saying that word out loud; do you want to kill me?"

Seeing the fat man burning with anger, Dylan became energized instead.

"You really are still doing it; hurry, give me three portions."

As he said this, he took out a money bag from his bosom and pushed it in front of the fat man, which contained 27 silver coins.

The fat man squinted his eyes, didn't touch the money bag, but instead took a good look at the man in front of him.

Compared to seven years ago, Dylan had aged a lot, his body wasn't as sturdy as before, and the calluses on his hands had almost disappeared.

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

Looking at you, the skills you used to make a living back then must have been abandoned long ago.

We're old friends, after all; I can't watch you go to your death."

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

But the fat man just looked quietly into his eyes.

After a long time, Dylan let go, his whole body went limp, and he begged in a low voice:

"Fatty, please, my daughter was poisoned by blood poison during a border mission.

I need money, a lot of money.

Besides this, I don't know what other way there is... please..."

The fat man fell silent.

Blood poison—the most insidious move of vampires.

People poisoned by blood poison wouldn't die directly, but would slowly be transformed into blood-eating ghouls in pain.

This kind of monster transformed from a human, although retaining the memories before transformation, couldn't suppress its bloodthirsty desire, and even facing close relatives, it would tearfully eat them.

Only when facing vampires would they become completely obedient slaves.

There were ways to cure it, and the two most widely known were: the Church's blessing or the Rebirth Potion.

Both could save the infected person before they were completely transformed.

However, these two were also out of reach for people at the bottom.

The former could only be personally baptized by a bishop-level figure over several days, while the latter required a sky-high price of 50 gold coins.

Even if you had money, you might not be able to build a relationship with a bishop-level figure; Dylan's target was clearly the latter.

So how could Dylan, who was only a silver-level adventurer at his peak and now had his strength regressed significantly, earn 50 gold coins in a short time?

There were only two ways to make money quickly: one dangerous, one illegal.

And naturally, the one that involved both was the fastest way to make money.

On the fifth floor of the Amethyst Dungeon, there was a notorious magic plant—the Parasitic Tree.

As the name suggested, it would capture living people and then forcibly feed them tree seeds, turning them into new tree stumps, and the people who became tree stumps would become their moving legs.

In this process, the brain of the parasitized person would be irreversibly destroyed, and even if rescued, it would just be a living shell, which was why they were notorious.

However, few people knew that the seeds of the Parasitic Tree were excellent materials for mental potions.

It was just because of its anti-human production method that it was listed as a contraband by the United Kingdom, limiting its circulation and the spread of this knowledge.

But the more it was prohibited, the higher the profit.

And where there was profit, there would naturally be people doing it secretly.

The fat man had something called Ghost Sleep Powder, which was a necessary item for picking Parasitic Tree fruits and also what Dylan wanted to buy.

However, picking Parasitic Tree fruits was not an easy job where you could just run over and take them back.

Parasitic Trees were not high-level but were numerous, concentrated in the swamp terrain on the fifth floor.

And the most difficult thing was that they could use the skills or magic that the parasitized person knew.

Think about the scene of being besieged by dozens or even hundreds of Parasitic Trees with different skills and magic; even high-level adventurers would regret it on the spot if they were careless.

Then they would be made into new, stronger Parasitic Trees.

This was a magic plant with a danger level far exceeding its level.

Looking at Dylan, the fat man knew that in order 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 team to do this now, others wouldn't want him.

The fat man could almost conclude that he would die down there.

But... the fat man also had a daughter in recent years, and she was the apple of his eye.

He knew that watching his only daughter slowly turn into a blood-eating ghoul was probably more painful and desperate than death.

"Sigh—" The fat man sighed long, accepted the money bag on the table, and secretly stuffed five small bags to Dylan.

"Five portions!?"

"This thing is much cheaper than it was back then; I won't earn your money for the sake of an old friend. If you're lucky enough... this trip will be enough."

"Thank you... thank you..." Dylan gripped the bag tightly, as if he had grasped hope, and hurried out of the tavern.

And the fat man picked up the cup of inferior liquor again and sipped it.

"Tsk, lost 73 silver.

Being so soft-hearted, it seems I'm old too, not suitable for this line of work.

Retire and go back to my hometown in a while..."

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 19 =====