Chapter 504: Skeptic Society

Dasha could not tell lies to this Cultivator. Wang Lun was too powerful. The Inner Circle and the Outer Circle, two rings that made up this Skeptic Society. This unofficial rebellion of the gods. He first learned of them through Kón, first human of Paracas mythology, who mistook him for Jack, another member.

There was the Liberator, who Wang Lun presumed Dasha worked under, and Lucifer Morningstar, the devil.

Dasha studied him carefully. Wang Lun spoke with the confidence of someone who believed he understood everything. It was a dangerous quality. But useful. Because he did not understand everything. What Dasha didn’t and did know was of utmost importance that balanced whether he lived or died; whether his lies would be discovered or kept.

“I’ll be meeting with the Liberator soon,” said Dasha. “That is all I can say for now.”

Wang Lun bared his teeth. Alas, the Messenger spoke the truth. He would. Someday.

“You must know some plan. The Underground, once we take this, we will have a stronghold rivalling the heavens. We will be able to battle against the gods equally.”

“When you do find out,” Wang Lun continued, “seek me at Floor 76 of the Dark Tower. Tell me what I must do. The world of the gods and the emperors must end.”

Bloodthirsty men like Wang Lun would have flourished in the Chaotic Era, Dasha surmised. ’The Skeptic Society was wise to clip Wang Lun’s wings.’

“Agreed. You will find me here. I am known as the Professor.”

A chuckle. Wang Lun’s eyes gleamed with something like amusement. “I like you, Messenger.”

Wang Lun stood. His followers moved as one. Dasha’s eyes flicked over, scanning them. They were in a disciplined formation.

As he turned toward the door, Wang Lun glanced over his shoulder. “Perhaps, someday, we will drink together.”

“Perhaps,” Dasha echoed.

The door shut behind them.

And then, the office was silent once more.

“Finally,” Dasha murmured. “The Pure Water. It’s all mine.”

Was he going to drink it?

’No. Not anymore. After all, now that I have one of Yamata-no-Orochi’s skulls, I can devise the strongest possible Cultivation Pill. Currently, I have a Golden Pellet, a Core Formation at the Early Stage. But if I take an EX-ranked pill, a one-of-a-kind divinely blessed mound of Qi, I should be able to reach the Peak of Core Formation—a true Golden Core.’

Think, Dasha Pang. Think. To devise a Cultivation Pill from Wang Lun’s Pure Water, the skull of Yamata-no-Orochi, and everything else in his grasp.

“I could make a potion instead. Only Wang Lun’s Pure Water is powerful enough to act as a base and withstand its power. Then again… a pill yields stronger and more specific effects due to the encasing. Even with Pure Water acting as a base for the potion, I sense there will be some waste in between fusion and synthesis. I wish to use a hundred percent of the skull, not ninety percent.”

Mehen had been absorbing the skull for the past centuries, to the point that the bone was thinning and without colour. Dasha further absorbed the skull. Yet there was still plenty. Yamata-no-Orochi was a Class 9 alpha. A monster whose only equal were other Supreme Gods like Susanoo, Amaterasu, Zeus, and Odin.

“Then again…is it possible to fuse such supreme materials? A divine skull and water of mortal’s blessing…it would be like trying to devour a star.”

Dasha stared at the Pure Water and the beautiful porcelain flask in which it was contained. The power within this was said to be the most effective when it came to growth of Core Formation. Ordinarily, it would take decades in order to grow one’s Core from a Golden Pellet to a Golden Core. But with this water, every sip of it increased quality, quantity, growth, and amplified the soul.

The method to make the water and the time it took was not known to anyone. This Pure Water was that of legend.

Only Dasha Pang would seek to use it for his own means and not immediately down it like the treasure it was.

“It appears I have something to work towards.”

Today, he had not lied once and like every day, more plans were rolling into motion, including his fateful meeting with the Liberator.

***

La Bocca Vecchia had its twists and turns and was plentiful in hallways. It was meant for meetings, after all. To meet, to talk, to negotiate, to turn over gold and silver where peace and honesty was accepted. In the Underground, that was sacred.

The last time violence had been conducted here was Dasha’s threat. The news of the dead child who dared to threaten Old Rocco spread like wild fire. Old Rocco informed his people that the man was responsible was put to death and that his influence remained as strong as ever. In order to demonstrate it, he put out a pike outside with the alleged killer’s head. All were convinced by the show. Who could threaten Old Rocco and dare to tell the tale?

The Professor. He walked through the halls without anyone knowing he was alive and knowing if he was among them.

’Let’s see. La Bocca Becchia is a place of meetings and trade. Down in the basement, there’s a Small Treasury and what Old Rocco calls the Bonded Treasure. People use this place as a pawn’s shop and storage center. They trust Old Rocco as an old figure to hold their things.’

Dasha’s immediate concern was teleportation circle. He had sent the letter and his works would be here soon. That left Dasha to gather the materials.

Going down the wide stone stairs, a patrolling guard brushed past the invisible Dasha, failing to notice his infiltration.

’I will have to tighten up security in other ways. Not by hiring more powerful mercenaries, no, that will just attract more attention. I will ask Dr. Thornton for runes that can do entrapments.’

Stone walls with torches. Rooms to his left and right. This hallway was essentially the Smaller Treasury. At the very end of the hall, signified by a big black door, was the Bonded Treasure. A lock was in place.

Luckily, Old Rocco was here waiting for him.

Dasha put off his invisibility. Old Rocco straightened his back as much as he could.

“You’re here, Professor.”

“My meeting was short.”

“With Wang Lun,” Old Rocco stated. “Someone like him down here brings attention. He’s from the Dark Tower, some of my people are a tad taken aback.”

“Afraid,” Dasha corrected.

“Yes. The warriors who live in the Dark Tower live completely different lives than us. They’re monsters. They’re not normal, not…malleable. They have no prerogative to follow our customs and rules.”

“This was a one-time meeting. Do not concern yourself over it.” The Professor’s eyes flicked to the two hooded figures flanking him. They were Dark Wizards, advanced users of dark magic. Sensors as well and skilled at that.

Unfortunately, they weren’t that skilled. During the extermination of the Monster Hunters, Dasha learned to slow his heart down to practically nothing. Now that he had learned Tu Na Breathing, he had learned to breathe without breathing. He could sneak past these Dark Wizards without them realizing a thing.

“So, what may I do for you?” Old Rocco asked. “I have a man above waiting for his item.”

“I am simple here to observe.” Dasha put his hands behind him. “Go on. Open the door.”

A black door with a skull-shaped lock. The lock extended to not just the door but everything around the Bonded Treasury. Breaking inside would be a troubling affair, even for Dasha. ’But it can be improved,’ he thought to himself.

Click.

The Bonded Treasury opened up. There was a moment where lines of magic appeared and connected to the skull. Even the key in Old Rocco’s hand glowed as he withdrew it.

The Treasury was larger than any other space in La Bocca Vecchia. Twenty metres wide and ten metres high, Dasha saw treasure boxes, stacks of gold coins contained in glass, swords and shields, and with a distinct shine everywhere. The Smaller Treasure were for the ordinary. The Bonded Treasure was safe-guarded for VIPs.

Dasha walked ahead. Old Rocco followed, anxious.

“Is there…something you need?”

“…” Dasha walked. With his Qi Sense, he already understood what it was he was looking for. “This.”

A white disc made of a magically-conductive metal. It lay on a shelf pressed to the wall, a small shelfable item among small shelfable items.

“A collector of war artificats asked me to keep his most prized possessions here,” Old Rocco stated.

“Yes, and it seems he kept the base of a teleportation device too. Perhaps you do not know, but up above, these were decommissioned by the Civilian Council.”

The disc was but one part of the teleoperator. It would serve well for what he needed. The metal for the disc was rare and said to take up to two months of constant work to be given the necessary properties to handle space-time warping.

Old Rocco nodded. “I did hear something of that nature.”

“I will take it. Have it and any others of its kind delivered to the Sea Scribe.”

“That’s not…I cannot betray a customer.”

“As I said before, I am not here to bend your morality and your life-long work.” Dasha turned to him. “What was the name of the customer?”

“His name was, rather, is Igor. He’s a fighter of the Dark Tower—”

“Which floor?”

“In the fifties, I believe. He is a great swordsman and spearman and archer.”

“Then do as I say. He is a man of the Dark Tower. Death is an expectation.”

Dasha disappeared and Old Rocco was left with understanding he just sent a man into the embrace of death.

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