Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Whether due to an overload of online users or some other reason, the wait time for registering on the black market was exceptionally long.

Eve decided to pass the time by re-examining the auction flyer. It listed six alchemical products: two weapons, two functional items, one divination-type item, and one defensive item.

With her Mythological Mecha now at her side, she had little interest in weapons; and thanks to Ludwig, she felt a certain aversion to divination-type items. Instead, Eve found herself drawn to one of the functional items and the sole defensive alchemical product.

Mirage: A functional alchemical product capable of creating lifelike external illusions or altering the owner’s appearance.

Impenetrable Cliff: A defensive alchemical product that, when passively triggered, projects an expansive light screen capable of withstanding a full-force attack from an ordinary Mythological Mecha or an Advanced Zerg.

One item offered broad utility and synergized well with Hecate’s abilities, while the other boasted astonishing defensive power, potentially life-saving in a pinch. Eve deliberated for a long time, even contemplating asking Luo Wenqing to gift her one while she purchased the other herself.

She flipped the flyer over to the estimated prices, counting a total of eight digits.

So expensive!

Eve snapped the price page shut.

Suddenly, late at night, she was filled with an inexplicable passion and drive to study alchemy. What was going on?

Clutching the flyer, Eve wrestled with her decision for a while longer before ultimately settling on the Mirage. It wasn't that she deemed it superior to Impenetrable Cliff, but rather because Mirage was rechargeable and reusable, whereas Impenetrable Cliff was a one-time use. Given their similar prices, the reusable option was undeniably more cost-effective.

Thus, poverty tightened its grip around her throat.

After sending Luo Wenqing her selection, Eve noticed a message from Isabella, inviting her to meet.

Truth be told, Eve was still a bit miffed about Isabella and Luo Wenqing ganging up to trick her, and she genuinely feared that Isabella’s invitation might lead to another fight.

She decided to feign ignorance of Isabella’s message and let it sit for a while, waiting until she was in a better mood.

The terminal screen updated as her black market registration finally received a response. The spinning dots transformed into a vibrant, official website.

The first prompt asked her to choose a username.

Eve picked a random ID, clicked confirm, and entered the black market.

The black market’s interface largely resembled an ordinary forum, even featuring a casual discussion section where users engaged in trivial chatter. Post titles included gems like: "Spilling the Tea on the Stunning Looks of the Four Great Families Over the Years," "What Would You Do If You Had 100 Million?" and "Unreasonable Speculations on the Messy Relationships of the Rich and Powerful." It was a motley crew of big dreamers, gossip fiends, and casual troublemakers. Eve, intrigued, clicked on the "What Would You Do If You Had 100 Million?" post.

"OP: Apologies for the clickbait title. To be precise, it’s what would you do if you suddenly got 98.72 million?

1L: Why 98.72 million? Does this number have any special meaning?

2L: Alright, alright, everyone scatter. Such a specific number—the OP probably came into a windfall and is here to low-key flex.

3L: ?? What’s with that? 2L’s reply got to me.

4L: Same here +1. How did a real one sneak into the dreamers’ group? Who allowed it? @Mods, ban this person.

5L: Same here +1. They need to look into this."

...

Eve closed the tab, annoyed, after seeing the OP confirm they had indeed inherited a distant relative’s estate.

The reason was simple: that relative was also an alchemist.

Damn, are alchemists all capable of turning stone into gold? How are they all so rich?

She browsed a few other posts, which covered a variety of topics, but the most popular discussions revolved around the lives of the wealthy, especially the Four Great Families and the royal family. Eve even stumbled upon a post mentioning her own name, discussing the children the Medici family had brought back to the main household this year. The poster claimed to be a minor noble from the capital planet.

The post was very recent, giving the distinct impression that the OP had to sneak out their terminal at the Medici family’s banquet yesterday to excitedly make the post.

This demonstrated the black market’s truly diverse user base, ranging from nobles on the capital planet to mercenaries and space pirates from remote planets outside the empire. It was a lively mix of all sorts of people, both respectable and shady.

Eve exited the casual discussion section. Besides that, there were also recruitment and free trade sections. The trade section functioned similarly to that second-hand app she knew, where individuals listed items they wanted to sell or buy, along with their desired price, and waited for others to initiate transactions.

The recruitment section was where clients posted tasks through the official platform, seeking others to complete them in exchange for rewards.

Although some people used this section to post requests for urgently needed potions or rare materials, most tasks involved recruiting people to fight monsters or find alchemists. Many people were actively forming teams there. Eve skimmed through and noticed that most teams had specific requirements, such as needing defensive or healing-type Spiritual States, or spiritual power reaching C or B level.

Tasks in the recruitment section were ranked from S to E. There were only three S-level tasks, one of which was a long-term recruitment for alchemists skilled in potion-making and researching tricky problems with Spiritual States. The requirement was at least a Three-Star rank, with priority given to those with expertise in toxicology.

The salary was equally shocking, making it easy to recognize that this task was posted by the Oliver Family.

Black market user profiles could be verified for levels. For example, alchemists could verify their identity using level certification issued by the Alchemist Association. Each certificate had a unique code that black market administrators could verify on the official website.

Because of this, most people would rather not get verified. To address this, the black market also offered online skill tests where users could answer questions to confirm their professional level. However, for alchemists, the test could only verify up to Three-Star; beyond that, it wasn’t something a simple test or website could determine. The results of online tests could serve as supplementary proof of proficiency but were specially marked as such and held less weight than certificate verification.

It worked well enough. Online transactions always carried some risk, and everyone here understood that.

There weren’t many A and B-level tasks either, but each was a significant undertaking with high difficulty and substantial rewards. The team formation posts under these tasks were mostly geared toward tackling such challenges.

There were plenty of C, D, and E-level tasks, ranging from helping someone settle a score, to finding freelance mecha mechanics or urgently seeking rare materials. Eve was interested in a C-level task where the client wanted to purchase one bottle of Stealth Potion and two bottles of Rapid Healing Potion, offering a flat five-digit fee.

Eve’s current alchemy level was around Two-Star. Moving from One-Star to Two-Star wasn’t difficult—it involved progressing from memorizing Alchemical Formulas to combining and applying them. Because she had focused on potion-making from the start and had the help of Cionanado’s manuscript collection, her potion-making skills were nearly at the pseudo-Three-Star level.

However, since she hadn’t tested at the Alchemist Association, this was only her conservative estimate.

Among the two potions required for this task, the Stealth Potion was at the Two-Star level, while the Rapid Healing Potion reached the Three-Star level. Eve did the math in her head regarding her remaining alchemical materials and concluded that she had more than enough to make three potions. So, she went for it and hit accept. The client’s icon was active, indicating they were online.

She waited for the client to reply with contact details.

A moment later, the message bar lit up, showing that the client had turned down her request.

"Cosmic Invincible Raptor Warrior": Scammers piss off, unverified accounts piss off, selling fake potions deserves death to the whole family.

"Cosmic Invincible Raptor Warrior": Dare to accept a C-level task with an unverified account? What else wouldn’t you dare, friend?

Eve: "..."

Why was this person so rude?

She scrutinized her own account: blank bio, no verification, zero tasks completed with a zero completion rate, and a nickname that looked randomly chosen—because it was.

...It did seem a bit like a scammer account.

Feeling discouraged, Eve went back and completed two sets of the black market’s online questions, first verifying her identity as a Two-Star alchemist. Then, she completed one E-level task and two D-level tasks. Since these were lower-level tasks and she now had verification, no one doubted her this time. Her past tasks section was no longer a blank slate.

From these three tasks, she sold five simple Alchemy Potions and, after deducting costs, earned just over 10,000.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

Although she could also sell potions in the trade section, it involved waiting for inquiries and negotiating, which was far less efficient than the direct transactions in the task section.

Right now, time was what Eve lacked the most. The earlier she started her plan, the higher her chances of success. If she acted soon, the joint practice with the Cavendish family next month would be a perfect opportunity. It was happening on a planet under Cavendish’s name, where the Medici family’s supervision would likely be looser than at home.

Nevertheless, Eve still listed two bottles of Rapid Healing Potion in the trade section. Since they wouldn’t sell immediately anyway, she used her newly earned money to order a new batch of materials. Tomorrow, when she shipped out the task potions, she could also pick up the new materials.

Through a simple market survey, Eve initially identified several potions that were both best-selling and highly profitable on the black market: Concealment, Rapid Healing, Mental Energy Restoration, and Stamina Restoration. All of these were related to field missions, suggesting that the main customer base consisted of mercenaries frequently active in the mission zone.

She placed orders for the materials needed to craft these potions and listed them in advance on the trading section. The ten-thousand-plus credits she had just earned were spent again before they had even warmed her hands.

After completing all this, she logged off quickly, planning to return after two days when the potions would be ready.

The start was remarkably smooth—alchemy was indeed a lucrative business. If she continued steadily like this, she would soon accumulate a substantial amount of personal funds.

Cash, cash, cash—she was now a woman with a mech to maintain. She needed to earn heaps of cash to cover the repair costs for her beloved machine.

Eve was happily envisioning the initial steps of building her business empire when she logged into her terminal midway to check for messages. To her surprise, there was one. Isabella, instead of sleeping in the middle of the night, was persistently sending her messages, seemingly intent on having an all-night digital chat session.

"...What does she want at this hour instead of sleeping?" Eve wondered, completely forgetting that she herself was also part of the late-night no-sleep crowd. However, when she saw what Isabella had specifically sent, her face suddenly brightened.