The second floor of the Abyss tavern was an entirely different world.
If the first floor was a haven for petty criminals, bloodthirsty gamblers, and depravity, then the second floor was where the true masters of the underworld conducted their business.
Here, power wasn't displayed through loud voices or brute strength. It was measured in silence.
A single glance could seal a million-DK deal.A subtle nod could decide the fate of an entire organization.And a handshake… could be a death sentence.
The thick steel walls reflected the dim, blood-red glow from overhead bulbs. The air was thick, suffocating—a mix of gun oil, metal, and gunpowder, all intertwined with a familiar scent.
Blood.
The main corridor stretched ahead like the spine of a beast, lined with weapon stalls—a vast bazaar of death and destruction.
But make no mistake.
This was no place for fools or cowards.
The merchants here were predators—sharp, ruthless, and willing to slit a throat over a bad deal.
Tink and I moved slowly, eyes scanning the displays of state-of-the-art weaponry.
A silver pistol with a silencer, housed in a red velvet-lined wooden box.
"Handcrafted in the Shogun's underground workshop," the merchant boasted, his eyes glinting with arrogance. "Only five exist in the world."
A dagger with a dark purple blade, vibrating softly—as if alive.
"Plasma Dagger. Slices through Titan-grade military armor like butter," another seller muttered, his voice low.
A sniper rifle with a polished black finish, engraved with the name Ghost.
"This beauty has over 200 confirmed kills in the last five years," the dealer whispered, a smirk playing on his lips. "It once belonged to the legendary assassin Asmodeus."
Tink suddenly stopped at a smaller stall. Behind the counter stood a scarred man, his eyes narrowing before twisting into a sinister grin.
"It's been a while since I've seen a familiar face." The man's voice was gravelly, amused. "Tink, still breathing?"
Tink merely smirked, his tone casual.
"And you're still selling death, Harker?"
Harker chuckled, then reached under the counter. When his hand emerged, he held a dagger—small, unassuming, but its blade gleamed ominously under the crimson lights.
"Remember this?" His voice was thick with nostalgia. "The Acid Dagger—the same blade that saved your ass five years ago on the third floor."
Tink took it, turning it over in his hand. The moment his fingers wrapped around the hilt, his expression shifted.
His eyes darkened.
"Still sharp as ever."
I saw something dangerous flicker in Tink's gaze as he bought the knife without hesitation.
As Tink secured his purchase, I moved toward another stall.
The merchant was a short, wiry man with razor-sharp eyes—the kind that could cut straight through a lie.
Without a word, he gestured for me to follow.
He led me into a small, dimly lit room behind the stall—a private space, reserved for his most exclusive clients.
There, displayed on a metal shelf, was a set of mechanical legs.
They were sleek, silver, and perfectly polished.
The outer shell gleamed, reflecting the dim lighting, while the joints flexed fluidly, mimicking the movements of real muscle.
"Titanium alloy," the merchant murmured, his voice filled with pride. "Corrosion-resistant. Impervious to acid. Withstands extreme heat."
His eyes flicked to my sword.
"Perfect for a swordsman."
I reached out, running my fingers along the cool, smooth surface.
This… this could change everything.
"How much?" My voice was steady.
"50 million DK."
A steep price—but hesitation never crossed my mind.
I placed a thick stack of bills on the table. The merchant grinned, satisfied, and got to work.
Less than ten minutes later, the new legs were part of me.
I stood up, took a step forward—then another.
Perfect.
With our weapons secured, it was time to complete our mission.
A short while later, we arrived at a massive metal door.
Above it, a worn-out sign, its letters faded by time, bore an inscription:
"Gakun—Management Office."
Tink exhaled slowly.
I flexed my fingers.
Beyond this door lay the next stage of our descent into darkness.
And something told me…
We wouldn't leave unscathed.