Chapter 85 – Auction Approaches.

Rusty slipped through the hidden entrance, his heavy, metallic frame surprisingly silent as he descended into the old well. The stone walls were slick with moisture, and the air was thick with the pungent scent of damp earth and sewage. Rusty didn’t mind; as living armor, he didn’t need to breathe. His body moved more naturally than before, each step emulating the way a human would walk.

Aburdon, who had memorized the entire map of the sewers, became Rusty’s guide. He led him through the twisting, narrow tunnels that stretched beneath the city. The demon lord’s haughty and nonchalant tone was a sharp contrast to Alexander’s more compassionate voice.

“Take the next right, then descend the ladder. The black market entrance is just ahead. Aren’t you glad you switched to me? You’ve made a marvelous choice, Rusty, but it would be even better if you never called that fool again. I’m the only guide you’ll ever need~”

Aburdon silently congratulated himself for guiding Rusty back to the same black market entrance. On the way, they passed the area where Rusty had defeated the thief guild members. Unsurprisingly, someone was investigating the scene, and the guard there eyed him with malice. His armored body had been swapped to Albert’s armor – a fresh version that lacked any of the scents he had absorbed in this area.

Before Rusty could move forward, a strange creature approached him. It resembled a dog-like monster, but with an unusually large nose. The creature sniffed the air in his direction, its nostrils flaring as it tested the scent. After a moment, it seemed disinterested, as though the scent he gave off wasn’t worth its attention.

‘See, I told you they wouldn’t be able to track you if you replaced your body completely. Use this tactic whenever you need to escape someone in the future.’

‘I will.’

It was a useful tactic, though it required him to spend resources on a new body and either discard the old one or store it. Once he completed the process, all traces of scent were erased, making him untraceable. He could even swap out his helmet, but for that, he needed to damage it first. If he simply changed his loadout, the helmet would shift into a new version but retain the old smells. However, restoring it replaced all the internal metals, allowing him to evade the noses of tracking hounds.

“Never seen you around here… are you new?”

Asked the thief after pulling the doglike creature to the side.

“Yes,”

Rusty replied in a monotone voice which was starting to sound more humane with each day.

“… I don’t suppose you’ve seen anyone suspicious, huh?”

The man was missing a few teeth and one of his eyes, giving him a menacing appearance. He leaned in as if trying to intimidate Rusty with his ugly face, but the living armor stood still, unaffected.

“No, I didn’t see anyone. Did something happen?”

It was clear the man was irritated by Rusty’s nonchalant response. His expression darkened, and with a grunt of frustration, he spat to the side before waving him through.

“None of your business. Move along.”

The guard was initially suspicious, but after a quick look, he eventually let Rusty pass. There were some noises coming from around the corner but he couldn’t see the bodies of the people he had slain anymore. Now that the thugs that were after Albert were dead and he made it into the thieves guild, there were probably no more obstacles waiting for him here. He continued back to the black market entrance and used his coin to slip through the secret door and was right back where he started.

The pungent mix of sweat, smoke, and rot greeted him, but now he wasn’t in a living body so it did not bother him anymore. Stalls were crowded together, with vendors peddling stolen goods, exotic weapons, and even magical artifacts. Shady figures negotiated in low voices, their deals drowned out by the constant buzz of the underground marketplace. Rusty’s metallic footsteps were masked by the noise, his armored form blending in among the assortment of mercenaries and thieves that frequented this place.

‘I need to become a permanent member first, how much should I give them for it to be only five silver coins?’

Aburdon peeked into Rusty’s inventory screen to assess their situation. Rusty needed to return some of the loot to the man who had lent him a temporary coin and exchange it for a permanent one. He had arrived around ten at night, and now, three hours later, the same man was still there. He approached the area that resembled an adventurer’s guild again, though it seemed busier than before.

Apparently, this guild operated more during the night. The burly man stood behind the same rundown bar, as gruff as ever. Rusty approached him just like last time but before he could present anything, the man spoke up.

“A new face? Are you a newbie?”

‘Ah that’s right…’

Rusty nearly made a blunder by calling out to the man. Previously, he had been disguised as one of his attackers, but now he was in the form of Albert. Catching himself, he decided not to say anything and instead pulled out his temporary guild token, placing it on the bar counter.

The man raised an eyebrow at Rusty’s silence but eventually nodded, accepting the token without question. He likely assumed Rusty had received it from another guild member. These tokens possessed special attributes and a low-level enchantment, but Aburdon had assured Rusty there was no way he could be traced back to the now-dead thug he had inhabited for that brief hour.

“So, did you come to complete the registration?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s see it, I hope for your sake that you’re not wasting my time…”

There were other thieves around here looking at them. They seemed to be ready for something and smiling. Rusty wasn’t sure what it was about but it wasn’t anything good. It was possible that whoever was unable to bring in enough loot for a full registration got punished in some kind of way and if the items he took out didn’t satisfy this bartender, then he could be in for another fight.

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Rusty stood silently, reaching into his satchel and retrieving several items he had looted during the dungeon raids. Following Aburdon’s instructions, he placed them carefully on the counter, trying to gauge the reaction of the burly bartender. Reading human expressions wasn’t Rusty’s strong suit, but he watched closely. The bartender’s eyes scanned the pile of valuables with casual disinterest at first, though something in his gaze shifted – there was a hint of recognition.