"Whatever," Vincent said.
"Why are you here? What did you want to buy?" Vincent said with a weak but real smile.
Ramon had been taken aback by Vincent's sudden change.
It was weird. For a mont he was freaking out, and the following one he was almost normal.
"Well… we ca here to inquire about this..." Erik gave Vincent the sheet of paper containing the unknown symbol.
The mont Vincent's eyes landed on the unknown symbol adorning the paper, his complexion turned ashen.
A visible shudder ran through his body, as if the re sight of the symbol had chilled him to the bone.
His hands trembled as he took the paper, his gaze locked on the symbol with a mixture of recognition and dread.
It was clear from his reaction that he was familiar with what the symbol represented.
The color drained from his face, not just from fear but from the weight of the secrets the symbol carried.
His eyes darted from the paper to Erik and back again, a silent plea for understanding mingling with the alarm in his gaze.
The heralded implications of whatever the symbol signified were far more ominous than any of them had anticipated, judging by the dramatic shift in his deanor.
But Vincent's reaction also ant that they were on the right tracks.
"Where did you find this?" Vincent asked.
"In the old warehouse," Ramon said. "You know to what I'm referring to."
"You shouldn't ask questions about this. Matter of fact, ask no one about it."
"Why?" Rebecca asked. Whatever Vincent knew, it was clear this symbol had a lot of anings.
Vincent's expression hardened, and a defensive edge crept into his voice.
"My lips are tied," he said tersely, the tension in the room escalating.
Suddenly, his deanor shifted from shock to aggression.
"You need to leave, now!" Vincent was getting more and more agitated.
The friendly atmosphere that had greeted their arrival evaporated, replaced by clear hostility as Vincent urged them towards the door, unwilling—or unable—to say anything more.
It was at that mont that Erik took action. He increased the mana load on his neural links and pushed his Instability brain crystal power.
He was influencing the man to talk. However, it was also true that he was already reading his mind, and what he was finding out from the man's thoughts was nothing good.
"Are you sure you want to send us away like this?" Erik said with a smile.
"Well… you know… I shouldn't…"
"C'mon, we are already here. We won't tell anyone about this, and Rebecca, here," he said, pointing at his friend, "will pay you handsoly for this information," he smiled.
The others looked at Erik with a weird look, most of all because Vincent was slowly relenting.
Though Rebecca gave him a bad look. This was his mission, why she had to pay for this information?
"I… maybe… All right," Vincent conceded, his resolve crumbling under the weight of their expectant gazes.
He turned and walked over to his bar counter at the far end of his spacious apartnt.
With a shaky hand, Vincent reached for a glass and a bottle of very strong liquor, his movents betraying a need for sothing to steady his nerves.
As he poured himself a generous asure, he lifted the glass to his lips and chugged down the liquid in one go, with the harsh burn of the alcohol doing little to mask the turmoil within.
With the empty glass now on the counter, Vincent turned back to face his guests, a look of resignation etched across his face.
"The symbol," he said, his voice steadier now, though still laced with apprehension, "belongs to the Shadow's Market."
He paused, as if gathering the strength to continue.
"The Shadow's Market is a place shrouded in mystery, a secret eting point for criminals from all factions. Of course, I found this information after a lot of ti." Vincent took another sip of the liquor.
"GAAH," he cleaned his lips with the sleeve of his shirt. "Apparently, this place had been founded about thirty years ago by a consortium of thieves, assassins, and traders of illicit goods, but I never found out who did it exactly. The Market serves as a hub where business can be conducted away from the prying eyes of the authorities."
Vincent paused, then took another sip of his liquor. "The point is, this is no simple black market. It is a place for the elites. You can find anything there."
The man paced back and forth as he spoke. "There, identities are hidden behind masks and pseudonyms, making every transaction anonymous and secure. It's a place where the underworld's elite can trade without fear of retribution or exposure."
He looked at his now empty glass, then back at the group.
"The Shadow's Market is not just a location; it's a symbol of the underworld's unity and secrecy."
Vincent's tone clarified that what Erik and his group were searching for was nothing good.
"Finding it is not easy, and for good reason. Its mbers go to great lengths to protect its secrecy."
As Vincent finished his explanation, the group processed the information.
The revelation opened up new avenues of investigation but also new dangers, as they now found themselves having to delve deeper into the heart of the city's criminal underbelly.
"But I bet you know how to go there, right?" Erik asked. He already saw that information within Vincent's thoughts.
"I do, but…"
After feeling Erik's intense gaze intensifying, Vincent took a deep breath and proceeded to address the group.
"The Shadow's Market," Vincent's voice gained a bit of strength from the liquor he chugged down, "is where the underworld's most valuable information intersects. It's a place you can find goods unavailable anywhere else. I said that already."
He paused, making sure he had everyone's attention.
"But let be clear, the Market isn't for the faint of heart. Entering without an invitation is not just frowned upon—it's downright dangerous."
"So, an invitation is needed," Ramon said.
Vincent paused and said: "Not an invitation per se, but a pass phrase."
The conversation went on, but Erik knew Vincent didn't say everything he knew about the place.
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