Mystery: From Meeting Amon

Chapter 32 The Taste of Depravity

"If I remember correctly, this is your first time here, what's the matter?"

It wasn't until he entered the billiard room that Lewis was stopped by a burly man holding a billiard cue stick. The burly man looked at Lewis with a hint of warning in his words.Another burly man also stared at Lewis with a little wariness in his eyes.

The underground trading market is not difficult to enter, but not everyone can enter. Lewis guessed that these two people should be equivalent to reviewers, as long as they confirm their identities, they will let them go.

"I'm looking for Mr. Swain. I think I have a big deal to discuss with him." Lewis took off his top hat and said neither humble nor overbearing.

He has very little money in his hand, it can even be said that it is scarce to a certain extent, but Swain has taken in a "monster", and perhaps the other party can buy the potion formula that the "monster" passes by at a high price.

"Mr. Swain?" The burly man blocking the way frowned, handed the cue to Lewis, and said, "Play a game with me, the bet is one pound, Mr. Swain will soon arrive."

As the gatekeepers of the underground trading market, gambling with newcomers is their usual practice. They can always take this opportunity to make some money, and Mr. Swain has no objection.

Lewis nodded. He felt that this should be a test. After all, Mr. Swain is an extraordinary person, and it is not something anyone can meet if he wants to.

"I'll tee off first." Lewis was not polite, he picked up the stick, and when he saw the balls on the table, the running route of each billiard ball immediately appeared in his mind, which is exactly the characteristic of "precise calculation".

After receiving all one shot, Lewis put down the club under the surprised gaze of the opponent, stretched his wrist, and asked, "Can I see Mr. Swain now?"

The burly man was stunned. He took out a pound note and slapped it on the edge of the table. This is a real master. Losing a pound is a lesson.

"Let's play another game? This time you go first." Lewis didn't expect the other party to really give money. He accepted a pound note without any hesitation, and immediately became interested in gambling.

"Mr. Swain will be here soon." The burly man didn't give Lewis a good face. He put down the cue and slowly rearranged the table tennis.

By the time the burly man had set the ball, Mr. Swain had already walked in through the small door at the back of the billiard room. He was wearing a navy uniform, his brown hair was messy, and he smelled badly of alcohol.

"You have something to talk to me about? Young man, I hope your matter is important enough, otherwise I will consider teaching you a lesson!" Swain said in a deep voice. He was very dissatisfied with Lewis because he was disturbed and drunk.

"You really want me to say it here?" Lewis suddenly raised his inspiration, which can be regarded as a kind of communication between extraordinary people, of course, only for those who are more sensitive extraordinary people.

Swain felt a hint from the spirit, and he couldn't help re-examining the young man in front of him, and said softly, "Follow me."

Through the small door at the back of the billiard room, you can see many intricate rooms. Swain invited Lewis into one of them and lit the gas lamp in the room.

"I can understand that you are a transcendent who is stronger than me. You know, I am not good at inspiration." Swain's tone softened a little, and he asked again: "Now, can you talk about the important thing?" Is something wrong?"

Looking at the erratic gas lamp fireworks and the serious expression of the other party, Lewis was overwhelmed by the sudden seriousness. He maintained his role as a "machine" and said in a deep voice; "Actually, I want to offer you a piece of magic. The medicine formula, the name of Sequence Nine is 'Monster'."

"Monster, how do you know that I want the monster potion?" Swain blurted out. It was the first time he met Lewis, but Lewis knew him very well, and even knew that he wanted the 'monster' potion. This way was obvious. Belongs to the school of life.

"How much do you plan to sell this formula?" After a moment of silence, Swain asked in a dignified tone.

"220 pounds, I think you should know the value of the formula. It is very cost-effective to exchange 220 pounds for an extraordinary subordinate." Lewis smiled lightly, and he tried to convince the other party.

"180 pounds! This is my final price." Swain said coldly, with a downcast face, "It takes a lot of money to judge the authenticity of a recipe, and this is the highest price I can afford."

Of course, the price may not be very high, because he can ask Old Neil for divination, as long as he is willing to waive a little interest for that old guy.

"Okay." Lewis agreed calmly. He had already made mental preparations. After all, Tingen City lacks the necessary notaries, and it is really troublesome to verify the authenticity of the formula.

Lewis wrote down the potion formula and handed it to Swain. Swain put away the formula with a wrinkled smile on his old face.

"Welcome to the underground trading market, Mr. Lewis." Swain said enthusiastically.

Lewis shook hands with Swain and asked, "Do you have any deals for potion formulas?"

"How could we have a trade in potion formulas here!" Swain affirmed: "You have to know that many formulas are strictly controlled by organizations and officials. I don't want to recruit those people."

Lewis nodded. This is very reasonable. After all, Mr. Swain himself is an official transcendent. If he openly sold potion formulas in the underground market, I am afraid that the local forces would have investigated him long ago.

Lewis had no expectations for this place, so he calmly passed through the doors and finally arrived at the underground trading market.

As soon as he stepped here, he felt a strange phenomenon on the left side. Someone was whispering something, and the other party aroused his inspiration.

Guessing that the other person should be the "monster" from the bar, Lewis turned his head and saw a pale young man in a worn-out linen shirt and gray-blue trousers. This was Ademisor. A born "monster".

Eye contact, Ademisor walked over, his bloodshot eyeballs widened, and he laughed crazily.

"Haha, the smell of depravity! Depravity...and disgusting!"

Lewis smiled lightly. It was not surprising that he had a degenerate smell on him. After all, he had not only tasted the taste of a witch once, but during this period, he would inevitably be contaminated with the smell of a witch.

Although he was affected by the magical items in his body, there is no doubt that his behavior is degenerate, and the witch passing by is also degenerate.

Dodging Ademisor, Lewis walked towards the stalls in the trading market.

Suddenly, Ademisor collapsed on the ground, his body twitched, and there was a short-lived desire that should not belong to him...

(End of this chapter)