’I have three thods that will help gain skips of power in cultivation: the Pure Yamata Pill, the upgrading of my equipnt, and finally, the Golden Device.’
The Pure Yamata Pill—a theoretical pill created from the remainders of Yamata-no-Orochi’s skull and the sacred mortal Pure Water.
The upgrading of his hand--down equipnt, from the cloak to the gi.
Finally, the Golden Device, a blueprint he had thought up since Gate 8. This one, however, was equally as difficult to achieve as it was necessary.
Well, for now, it was but a blueprint. The first two plans were of utmost urgency.
Dasha closed his eyes to sense everything around him. The noises of La Bocca Vecchia consisted of mild gambling and etings. Grimoire dealerships and gang talk. Won serving drinks. A place of neutrality and information.
This was all Dasha’s to run. Not the Whispers but his.
He did not deactivate his invisibility and spoke to Old Rocco like a boogeyman. "Listen, Old Rocco. Monster hearts, monster organs—whatever you can get your hands on, get them. It won’t be difficult. Do not be forceful either. Simply get what you can."
Old Rocco swallowed, not knowing where this mysterious Professor was and how he spoke. "I understand. I will keep them in Monster Chests to my left."
"Excellent."
Anything else? Dasha had money, he was earning it fast.
"You do good work. Keep it up."
"And my children?"
"A friend of mune is taking good care of them. In one week, I will bring them here."
With the caveat that they might explode if he did not obey. Old Rocco understood. As the door opened and closed without a person in sight, he hung his head. This was his life. He was old but it was reality. His weary mind accepted it.
The Sukhothai was the black market of the Underground. Dasha could manipulate approximately ten percent of it, maybe fifteen and twenty if he included Old Rocco’s influence, and much of it was focused on the southern areas near the Dark Tower. The other remaining parts did their own thing.
Putting on the mask of Myth, he ventured to those sides. Without invisibility, he was bombarded by nauseating amounts of dirty Qi and loud voices. Up, up, up north he went and the number of non-humans increased. Demons and such walked and sat. It was quite fascinating to see the population disparity. Humans and warriors close to the Dark Tower and what seed to be the true natural borns far and away.
"Ah, there."
Shadow Crows as the store was aptly called. Dasha went inside and opened himself up to the shrieks of crows in cages. The store was tightly wound and facilitated by desks with pen and quill. Plenty of custors too.
Dasha was flagged over by a black-haired woman with black lips and a black tail. A Succubus whose gaze flicked over and asked laly, "Na and reason?"
He did not sit down. Dasha had to keep standing in the strange shop. Shadow Crows were a series of stores that served as ssaging centers. They were to the Underground what Dove Pigeons were to the heavens. Albeit in this case...
"My na is Myth. I wish to send three ssages."
"To the heavens or sowhere in the Underground?"
"The heavens."
"Going cost you a thousand silver coins each," the succubus intoned. Dasha put down the sack of coins. She clicked her cheek, spilled the pouch over, and counted them. "Perfect. Rember, love, Shadow Crows are one ti use and we are not responsible for any misplaced ssages. Sign this please."
A contract was pushed forward while the woman herself spun and got up to grab a crow.
"Letter, please."
The succubus put the caged crow on the table and held out a hand for her to receive. Dasha pulled out all three letters from his sleeve.
What were they for? Favours.
The favours he wanted to cash in from Marshal Roland Blackwood, Spectre 3 Frode, and Li Xuanming, Sect Master of the Orthodox Sect.
From Marshal Roland Blackwood, he required a thousand pounds of iron, blood, steel, ten pounds of Adamantium, as well as the claw and scale of Tarasque, the infamous mythical dragon who battled Saint Martha. As stipulated in the contract, the monetary value of these items could not go over twenty billion. He maximized monetary value and ti.
From Spectre 3 Frode, he required one hundred thousand pounds of Dreamweaver’s Dust. Not all at once but in bulked intervals. One favour left.
From Li Xuanming, he required the best of the best equipnt for pill creation. And in addition to that, Dasha wished to use the last favour to ask for several pages of his legendary journal.
’Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach him how to fish and you feed him for a lifeti. The Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu, founder of Taoism, said this a long, long ti ago. Except he forgot to consider one other option: you could also learn to steal, take a fish every day, and then drain him of everything when he reaches his peak.’
All of it was to be delivered to three specified addresses in the Underground. For n of their influence, to deliver items from the heavens down to the Underground was within their ans.
But in the case of Li Xuanming, the date of delivery was to happen two days after. Dasha planned to use Li Xuanming’s delivery man in order to steal from him and the Orthodox Sect.
To learn, to be gifted, and to steal.
Dasha Pang was given ample ti to prepare for his battle against the goddesses of judgent. To be able to realize the power to defeat them, he had to create a pill worth decades of Qi. To feed his Golden Pellet into a proper Golden Core. Dasha would not stand a chance otherwise
He needed to consu. Consu, consu, consu until everything in his path was gone.
The crack in the soul of his eye pulsed. Handing the letters ant waiting patiently. It ant to wait a week for everything to co.
One week.
What was next on the list?
Ah, yes. His pet. There was nothing in the rules of their battle not to bring a tad monster.
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