"Who just used a god-tier artifact in my territory?"
That cold, authoritative voice echoed from the end of the alley, splitting through the crowd of merchants and shoppers as they scattered in fear. Aster swallowed hard and slowly turned toward the voice, still clutching the scrapwood comb in his right hand.
But before Aster could see who the voice belonged to, an absurd scene unfolded right in front of him.
The three huge thugs from the Black Snake Gang who had threatened him moments ago suddenly dropped to their knees. Not from pain, and not because of magical gravitational pressure. They knelt because... they were ashamed.
The fierce red dragon tattoos on their necks—which were actually low-grade Blood Curses that enhanced physical strength—suddenly faded and unraveled, transforming into tiny, perfectly symmetrical daisy patterns that were almost unbearably cute. Their spiked leather clothes, reeking of sour sweat, instantly changed into clean pastel-colored linen tunics that smelled of lavender and had been ironed to perfection. Their messy, greasy hair was now combed neatly back with a precise middle part, gleaming as if they had just left a high-end salon.
The thin man with burn scars covering half his face—the gang's leader—stared at his own hands, now clean and well-groomed, with neatly trimmed nails. Tears streamed from his eyes, dampening cheeks that were now smooth and dust-free.
"I... I feel so clean," the thin man sobbed, his voice trembling with emotion. He looked at Aster with deep remorse and profound respect. "Forgive me, Wise Merchant. My evil intentions and harsh words were so untidy, so impolite, and so damaging to the aesthetics of this environment. I feel emotionally filthy."
The man handed Aster a pouch containing fifty gold coins with both hands, bowed at a perfect ninety-degree angle with remarkable grace, then turned and walked away with his two underlings, their footsteps light and rhythmic, as though they were on their way to reenroll in agricultural school.
Aster stared blankly at their retreating backs, then looked down at the wooden comb in his hand.
System, Aster screamed internally. Did you just translate the concept of 'Deconstruction of All Forms of Chaos' as 'Tidying Up Appearance and Emotions'?! You turned black-market thugs into lavender-scented metrosexual men!
The System in his head merely blinked slowly, displaying calm green text. [Chaos successfully deconstructed. Aesthetic and emotional order restored to optimal levels.]
"Interesting. Very interesting."
The calm footsteps finally stopped in front of Aster's stall. A young man with slicked-back blond hair and a blue silk robe embroidered with gold thread stood there. Behind him, two sturdy guards radiating high-grade mana stood at attention. In the young man's left hand was a small, half-open sandalwood box, revealing a glimpse of a cracked black stone that looked utterly worthless.
Aster's eyes locked onto the black stone. His heart seemed to stop beating. The Cracked Stone. The Earth Dragon Heart Scale. Valerius Clydes had already bought it from another merchant at the corner of the market!
"Vale? Aster Vale?" Valerius narrowed his eyes as he studied Aster's face, half-hidden beneath the hood of his grand robe. A mocking, contemptuous smile curled across his lips. "The charity scholar from some backwater village who always sits in the back row of my class? What are you doing in this rat's nest? Stealing leftovers from the black-market trash bins?"
Aster quickly hid the wooden comb inside his robe and put on a flat, expressionless face. "Good evening, Mr. Clydes. I'm just looking for some rare materials for my Crafting assignment."
Valerius laughed dismissively, his eyes sweeping over Aster's stall, which consisted of nothing more than an empty black cloth spread on the ground. "Rare materials? In this dark corner? You're a terrible liar, commoner."
Valerius's gaze suddenly sharpened with suspicion. He turned toward the alley where the Black Snake Gang thugs had just departed with graceful, lavender-scented footsteps. "I can sense residual anomalous fluctuations in causality here. You used a high-grade mind-altering artifact on those thugs, didn't you? You forced them to surrender with soul-control magic?"
"I didn't use soul-control magic, Mr. Clydes," Aster replied in an extremely polite, calm tone, even as cold sweat began to seep down his back. "It's just an ordinary wooden comb made in my village. They simply realized the importance of cleanliness and good manners. Perhaps their consciences spoke to them."
"Do you think I'm stupid?!" Valerius shouted. His frost mana aura began freezing the air, making Aster's breath come out in white vapor. "No ordinary wooden comb can erase the Blood Curse of the Black Snake Gang and turn them into palace servants! Hand that artifact over to me now. It must have been stolen from the Clydes family vault!"
Aster let out a quiet sigh. A deception disguised as artistry. It was his only option.
"Mr. Clydes," Aster said, staring straight into Valerius's eyes with an expression he deliberately made mysterious and condescending. "That comb is no ordinary item. It is the 'Purity Comb of the Mythological Era,' a relic supposedly used by ancient priests to cleanse mortal souls of sin. I found it in the ruins of an underground temple. If you forcefully take it, I'm afraid you won't be able to bear the karma of such a sacred object."
Valerius fell silent for a moment. The words 'Mythological Era' and 'relic' had clearly touched his noble greed. But the arrogance of the Clydes family would not allow him to be refused by a commoner.
"Karma?" Valerius scoffed in disgust. "A nobleman has no use for karma. Guards! Break this commoner's legs and take whatever he's hiding beneath his robe!"
The two sturdy guards immediately drew their swords, their steel blades wrapped in deep-red mana auras. They advanced, cornering Aster against the damp stone wall.
Aster panicked. He had no time to negotiate. His eyes flicked toward the sandalwood box in Valerius's left hand. If he didn't get the Cracked Stone tonight, he would die in Chapter 50. He had to seize it—or at least cause enough chaos to escape with the stone.
Aster reached into his robe pocket and touched a small, rough object he had made that afternoon from a dead tree branch and sulfur stolen from the Alchemy workshop. A wooden match. He had only intended to use it for emergency lighting in a dungeon or dark cave.
System, please give me something that can help me run! Aster prayed inwardly as he struck the match head against the stone wall.
Scritch.
The blue screen flickered wildly, blazing with dazzling orange. [Item: Scrapwood Match (Quality: F)] [Absolute Compensation Imbued.] [Concept Granted: Absolute Confession Ignition.] [The flame does not burn physical matter. It burns 'Falsehood' and forces 'Truth' to be revealed.]
A tiny pale-blue spark flared at the tip of the match. The flame gave off no heat. Instead, it emitted waves of light that pierced the eyes and stabbed straight into the souls of everyone within a ten-meter radius.
The blue light swept over Valerius and his two guards.
Silence reigned for one second.
Then the guard on the left suddenly dropped his sword, clutched his head, and shrieked, "I CAN'T ACTUALLY SWIM! I WEAR A DUCK FLOATIE DURING TRAINING AT THE ACADEMY LAKE!"
The guard on the right dropped to his knees, sobbing as he pounded his chest. "I STOLE YOUNG MASTER VALERIUS'S BIRTHDAY TART LAST NIGHT AND BLAMED THE SEWER RATS!"
Valerius Clydes froze. His deathly pale face turned bright red, then purple, then green. His mouth fell open as he tried to hold back the curse of truth, but his lips moved beyond his control, shouting his darkest secrets at a volume the entire black-market alley could hear.
"I STILL SLEEP HUGGING A PINK BUNNY! I WEAR MY MOTHER'S CORSET BECAUSE I'M AFRAID MY BELLY WILL STICK OUT! AND I DON'T ACTUALLY KNOW HOW TO READ A MAGIC MAP—I ALWAYS GET LOST IN DUNGEONS!"
The entire black market, silent until then, erupted into shocked whispers and stifled laughter. Merchants and shoppers stared at the heir to the Clydes family with completely different expressions now—a mixture of disgust, pity, and pure amusement.
Valerius dropped to his knees, covering his face with both hands as he wept hysterically, his pride utterly shattered in front of hundreds of criminals and dark mages. The sandalwood box slipped from his hand and fell onto the stone floor, bursting open and sending the Cracked Stone rolling toward Aster's feet.
Aster watched the match in his hand slowly go out, then looked at the Cracked Stone now lying right at the tip of his shoe. This... this was the most absurd face-slapping moment in the history of fantasy novels, he thought, barely holding back a laugh.
Without wasting a moment, Aster bent down and picked up the Cracked Stone. It felt cold and heavy, its surface rough and covered in cracks, exactly like a piece of trash. But Aster knew it was his ticket to survival.
However, the instant his fingers touched the stone, another hand wrapped in dirty bandages suddenly emerged from the shadows behind a pillar and seized Aster's wrist in an intensely strong, icy grip.
Aster looked up, his heart leaping into his throat.
From within the darkness of the alley, a pair of sharp ruby-red eyes filled with exhaustion stared back at him. Kaelen Drago stood there, his robe torn and reeking of blood, watching Aster with an unreadable expression.
"Don't touch that stone, Aster," Kaelen whispered, his voice hoarse and urgent, ignoring Valerius, who was still crying on the floor. "If you take it tonight... the Law of the World will kill you on the spot."