Chapter Nine: The Underground Black Market

The black market was set up in the basement of the "Dreamer’s Delight" Bar, located just outside the city limits, not far from the port.

In this city, it seemed that any business wishing to prosper needed the word "dream" in its name for good luck—and indeed, the Dreamer’s Delight was a dazzling display of revelry. The moment Wu Hua stepped inside, a sharp-looking floor manager in a suit greeted him with a beaming smile, "Brother Bao, you’re here! Care for a drink? We’ve just got a new batch of ’82 vodka. Would you like to try it?"

The floor manager was a lifestyle player here; in the virtual world, moonlighting in bars at night was a respectable profession—at least much healthier than its real-world equivalent.

"No," Wu Hua replied, knowing the offer was just a code. "A bottle of ’93 Yibao, please." With that, he produced a crystal card, strolled to the counter, and swiped it with casual elegance, paying one credit point.

That was the entry fee. The bar didn’t actually stock any ’93 Yibao—Yibao was just a brand of mineral water, after all.

Understanding the signal, the manager immediately led Wu Hua backstage.

After descending in an old freight lift, Wu Hua was greeted by a grand and bustling scene.

The place was brightly lit, sprawled across seventy thousand square meters, resembling a colossal underground market. Every stall was neatly arranged, each shelf brimming with dazzling goods, electronic signs glowing vividly, and streams of players moving busily through the aisles, all seeking out their favorite gear.

Every player paid one credit to enter; those renting stalls paid three. Dream Star City’s black market was open nightly from eight to midnight. The NPC patrols were long gone by then—this was the busiest time in the market.

Wu Hua had been here many times. This time, he went straight to Block D, Booth B5, where an old acquaintance set up shop every night.

"Well, what wind blows Brother Bao here again? Haven’t seen you in days—where have you made your fortune? Come, sit, sit!" The fat, big-eared "Mao Mountain Mystic" was dressed sharply in a suit, greeting Wu Hua with enthusiasm.

Wu Hua was a regular at his stall, though he rarely bought anything despite his frequent visits.

Most vendors would have resented such behavior—after all, everyone paid to get in, and not buying meant a loss.

But the Mystic thought otherwise. He considered Wu Hua a savvy buyer. Every visit, Wu Hua would browse for ages, seemingly uninterested, but in truth, he memorized every price and item in the black market.

He kept track of every price fluctuation. To try and overcharge him was a fool’s errand.

"Mystic, got anything good? My gear’s been wiped out," Wu Hua said bluntly.

The Mystic eyed Wu Hua’s plain outfit and asked with a laugh, "Even your gun’s gone?"

Wu Hua nodded.

The Mystic pressed a few buttons on the seat beside him, and a string of subtitles flashed across the electronic sign in front of the stall:

"Red-tier Handguns: Type 54, USP, Gock 18, full-auto PPK, the latest Rock pistol with attachments, new arrivals, discounts for bulk buyers."

"White-tier Carbines: M16, XM-8, top firepower, buy a gun get ammo, clearance sale at 2,380 points, no haggling."

"Stall’s Treasure: Red-tier Assault Rifles: AK74, M4A1, Famas, Type 95, price negotiable, serious buyers only."

Fortunately, Wu Hua knew his firearms. An ordinary player would have been dazzled by the options. He considered the red-tier handguns, but it was obvious the Mystic was pushing a bundle deal—likely mediocre stats. As for the white-tier guns, he wouldn’t bother even if they were grenade launchers. The red-tier rifles, even if given away for free, were out of his league—ammo prices alone made them unaffordable, and none suited his current situation.

Wu Hua shook his head as he examined the selection. Sensing his dissatisfaction, the Mystic couldn't help but remark, "Damn, what level are you now? Got some high standards, don’t you?"

Wu Hua shot him a glare. "You don’t get it. Picking a gun is like picking a woman—looks can be deceiving, good ones are expensive, but what matters most is the right fit."

The Mystic laughed. "So, tell me—what are you looking for?"

"Got any decent shotguns lately?" Wu Hua asked.

The Mystic sighed, "If you’d come an hour earlier, there was a red-tier Beretta N74 shotgun, just sold. I won’t even try to sell you a white-tier, you wouldn’t look at it. I know you’re an arms connoisseur, no point trying to fool you."

Wu Hua rolled his eyes. "Might as well not have told me. What about purple-tier guns?"

The Mystic hesitated. "There are some, but they’re hard to sell. High levels don’t want them, low levels can’t afford them."

"Less talk, more show. Let me take a look."

"Alright, wait here." The Mystic ducked into the back, rummaging through his backpack for quite some time before finally producing a glittering purple pistol.

As soon as Wu Hua saw it, his eyes lit up.

The gun’s sharp lines, powerful build, and exquisite finish exuded a sense of security and strength. It bore a resounding name—Desert Eagle, nicknamed "the hand cannon."

Wu Hua snatched it up at once, and the stats did not disappoint:

"Flying Desert Eagle (Custom)"

Purple Equipment

Level Requirement: 10

Strength Requirement: 15

Weight: 1.8 kg

Caliber: 0.5 inch

Magazine Capacity: 7 + 2

Accuracy: 82.8% + 1.4%

Rate of Fire: 2 rounds/second

Muzzle Energy: 1650 joules + 400 joules

Effective Range: 100 meters + 20 meters

Secret Slot: +1

...

The stats fully showcased the weapon’s added attributes. The Mystic saw Wu Hua handling the gun lovingly and knew he had a chance. He hurried to explain, "The nine-round magazine has been upgraded, the dovetail sight is inlaid with hard rubber and adjustable, so accuracy is higher and range is better. The best part—the secret slot hasn’t had a gem socketed yet. Well? Satisfied?"

Wu Hua was more than satisfied. At level twelve, this gun suited him perfectly. Its power was four times that of the old Mauser, totaling 2,000 joules of damage, with double the range. Against a tough opponent like Maragobi, if the distance was right, even with a shield up, one magazine could finish him off.

The only flaw was the slow rate of fire.

"How much?" Wu Hua asked.

The Mystic grinned, "We’re old friends—no need for games. Fixed price: 4,300 points."

Wu Hua promptly shoved the gun back into the Mystic’s hands. "You might as well just rob me."

The Mystic was taken aback. "I’m not cheating you—it’s purple-tier! Even a plain white Desert Eagle goes for 3,000 on the market. My price is fair."

Wu Hua didn’t argue. He opened the trade window and put up the Fire Dragon Armor.

Now the Mystic’s eyes gleamed. "Where’d you get that? Sell it to me!"

Wu Hua spoke slowly, "Fixed price: ten thousand points."

"You must be out of your mind," the Mystic growled.

Wu Hua laughed. "Anything else to trade? I’m open." He put the Fire Dragon Boots up as well. The Mystic immediately realized his chance. Seeing the two pieces, he knew it was a set and selling them together would be a windfall.

"Wait here," the Mystic said through gritted teeth. "I’ll trade with you at a loss tonight." He turned to rummage through his bag once more.

After a long while, he placed two items in the trade window. Wu Hua grinned. "Damn, aren’t these tailor-made for me?"