Synthesis-type adventurers

Chapter 30 Dark under the lamp

A cold, high-pitched female voice echoed in the empty hall.

The deathly silence lasted only a few seconds before the clamor instantly filled every inch of space.

"The junkyard? That old geezer?"

"Possessing forbidden items? Could it be that you unearthed some ancient god's relic and didn't hand it in?"

"I knew that place was weird! That old man is always acting strangely..."

"..."

Rod's lips twitched involuntarily, and his ID card slipped on the counter, almost slipping from his grasp.

He took back the registered task list and the required recorder with a blank expression, his eyelids lowering to conceal the gloom that suddenly gathered deep in his pupils.

So fast?

It had been less than 24 hours since Rhodes left.

Could it be that I left some trace when I saved the person?

Or perhaps the old man himself failed to conceal his true intentions, leading to his exposure?

Avira turned her head to look at Rhodes with some concern: "My lord?"

Although she didn't know Rod's whereabouts yesterday, the two happened to meet at the entrance of the underground cabin, and the direction he was returning to was clearly the South District.

"Don't speak," Rod whispered, urging the clerk to finish registering the task. He then pulled Avra ​​towards the door, saying, "Let's get out of here first."

As soon as I stepped out of the guild gate, a cold wind filled with the smell of swill hit me.

A figure emerged from the dark shadows of the pillars—a beggar dressed in rags and covered in the stench of years past.

He stumbled and rushed straight toward Rhodes.

"Please, sir... give me some food!"

With a single step, Avira's iron-like body instantly blocked the beggar's path.

She raised her armored arm, ready to push away this reckless fellow.

Rod's hand gripped Avira's arm tightly: "Wait."

Just as the beggar was about to collide with Rod, he stopped his momentum, displaying a level of control that was completely out of character for his appearance. With a flick of his wrist, he swiftly stuffed a wad of paper into Rod's palm.

It had a rough, greasy feel and was filled with a familiar smell of engine oil.

The beggar broke up with Avella at the first touch. After being separated, he collapsed to the ground, howled twice, and when he didn't get any coins, he scrambled to his feet, hunched over, and squeezed into the bustling crowd, where he was instantly swallowed up.

Rod closed his fingers, feeling the hard edges of the paper in his palm, and beckoned Ivyra to turn into a deserted dead-end alley.

After confirming that there was only moldy, peeling paint all around, he unfolded the crumpled piece of paper.

The paper was covered with black oily fingerprints, and the handwriting was messy and distorted, like marks hastily wiped off by fingers covered in machine oil.

"You're the one who saved me, aren't you? This old man never owes anyone a favor."

"Hurry up and meet me at the usual place, you don't have much time left."

The note was unsigned, but the pungent smell of the junkyard was the best proof of its identity.

Rhodes' pupils contracted slightly.

Old Hansen was barely alive yesterday, and he didn't leave any written agreement or token. How did he manage to track me down?

Could it be that the old man, even in a deep coma, was still maintaining some kind of sensory detection?

Is this the foundation of an alchemy master?

Avira gazed at Rhodes's solemn profile, slightly surprised: "My lord, what is this?"

"Trouble has come knocking."

Rod crumpled the note and tossed it into the roadside ditch.

The black, dirty water quickly soaked through the paper, eventually turning it into an unrecognizable lump of mud.

He looked up, his gaze passing through the layers of building rooftops, and landing on the location of the South District scrap yard.

Even from such a great distance, the billowing black smoke rising from there was still clearly visible.

The guild's purification team is burning the "source of pollution".

"Our new mission will have to wait a bit." Rhodes straightened his collar, the worry in his eyes replaced by a resolute glint. "Someone's eager to repay a favor. I have no reason to refuse such a profitable deal."

More importantly, if the guild manages to pry open the old man's mouth and he blurts out something he shouldn't in the interrogation room, then I, the "savior" who just drugged him, will probably have to go to the gallows with him.

This is a life-threatening risk, but it also means missing an opportunity that you may never encounter again.

That orange-tier entry for [Alchemy Master]...

Rhodes subconsciously reached into his pocket and touched the half-empty bottle of tranquilizer he had left.

"Come on, Avira." He beckoned to the female knight, "I'll show you what a truly powerful person in hiding is like."

-----------------

If the scrap yards are the appendix of Rusty Harbour, then the Southern District's sewer system is the city's large intestine, where centuries of industrial slag and domestic waste have accumulated and hardened.

The thick, foul stench of rotting grease and dead rats choked my throat; even near the vents, the smell was so strong it was suffocating.

Rod bent down and waded through a semi-dry sewer, his boots avoiding the slippery moss, each step landing on a shallow patch of silt.

Avira, who was following behind, did not have the same composure.

The full-body plate armor scraped against the pipe wall in the narrow space, and the grinding sound of steel against stone was ear-piercing and made one's teeth ache.

"when--"

The sound of impact echoed through the empty pipes.

Avira's shoulder armor struck a rusty iron pipe that was protruding horizontally.

Rod immediately stopped and turned around, making a shushing gesture.

"I'm sorry, my lady," Avira's voice sounded muffled against the backdrop of her visor, "this space is far too cramped for heavy plate armor."

"Shhh."

Rhodes pointed to the top of his head.

Above the thick concrete layer, a faint vibration seeped down the foundation, giving the sensation of heavy mechanical feet rolling over the road surface.

Rhodes narrowed his eyes slightly.

If he's not mistaken, this should be the standard equipment of the guild's executive force—the hound-type magical construct.

This is a monster forged from alchemical alloys and equipped with highly sensitive magical sniffers, specifically designed to hunt down rats hiding underground.

Fortunately, the smell of the sewers masked the problem, so this kind of structure that relies on the sense of smell is not very useful.

"They're serious this time," Rod said in a low voice. "It seems that what that old man is hiding is even more dangerous than I expected."

As he spoke, his [analytical vision] activated, his gaze peeling away the murky air and the mottled wall paint.

At the corner about ten meters ahead, several dark red threads covered with blue light appeared on the previously empty ground.

【Magic Triplock】

Entry:

[Alchemy Trap (Blue Excellent)]: Touching it will trigger a high-decibel alarm and release a powerful paralyzing poison mist.

……

Stop.

Rod reached out and stopped Avira, who was about to take a step.

"What's wrong?"

"There's a surprise ahead," Rhodes said, gesturing to the empty corner. "A little gift left by the guild alchemist. Just walk straight there, and even if you're as tough as nails, you'll fall right here."

He pulled out a pair of insulated pliers from his tool bag and crouched down to get closer.

Under Avira's questioning gaze, Rhodes pretended to gesture at the tripwire a few times, but in reality, he was peeling off the inscription attached to it. Then, he used his pliers to bite and cut the dark red thread.

"Sizzle—"

The spark leaped in the darkness and then went out.

"Alright, the path is clear now." Rod straightened up, brushing the dust off his hands. "From now on, try to follow my footsteps and don't step in the wrong places."