Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 452 - 306: Path of Fate (1)

Chapter 452: Chapter 306: Path of Fate (1)

Ails was ready to leave after concluding the business, but Malin had just received a job offer. After some thought, Malin decided to keep this guy around. "I’ve got a job to do, a discernment."

"Discernment? Sounds like I should quietly walk away, not become the spectacle itself. Are you sure I can go watch the show without becoming the show?" Ails asked warily.

Malin thought again—hey, maybe he was still treating this talkative lich too much like a person. After all, this guy was just a bag of bones; chatting away in his own territory or any other wilderness was no issue, but actually bringing him along might really turn out like he said, turning from a spectator to the spectacle.

That wouldn’t be fun.

"Alright, we’ll get in touch tomorrow. Oh, and take this with you, ask around for a price. If possible, settle in gold ingots or some other solid currency." Before leaving, Malin tossed Ails a potion, then mounted his light single-person motorcycle and sped off with a twist of the throttle.

Watching Malin disappear into the distance, Ails looked at the emerald potion in his hand and exhaled a puff of frosty breath.

·The little guy... probably didn’t do it on purpose.

Had he not caught the potion, Ails feared he might have become a part of history in the coming years.

Then again, how much could this thing fetch in Mark City... Forget five times the price; Ails felt this life-energy-carrying potion deserved far more than a fivefold increase to reflect its prestige.

With a touch of curiosity, Ails opened a portal. Before stepping through, he cast a transformation spell on himself, turning into a pink-skinned prairie elf. He swapped his clothing for something more elegant from his spatial bag, checked his appearance in a mirror formed from water elements, and then stepped through the portal.

He made his way to the auction market, a path well-trodden, and listed the potion for sale.

The clerk who handled his listing was a three-eyed girl, a race from the outer domains. She gave Ails a look; her third eye could break through spell formations, so she must have realized that the elf in front of her was just a disguise. But out of professional courtesy, she still smiled and nodded, "What price do you have in mind, sir?"

"Aren’t you the appraiser?" Ails retorted.

"I have to watch out for myself. If this item is stolen and the owner comes knocking, and if the price is too high, they might kill me before they go after you. I can’t just sit around waiting to die, can I? So, could you pass a lie detection spell?" the three-eyed girl asked with a smile.

"Of course, I’m not a robber. This is something my partner and good friend asked me to try out in the market. If the price satisfies him, he wouldn’t mind stocking up," Ails declared with a smile as he stood inside the lie detection array.

This step was absolutely necessary. If she had said it wasn’t needed, then Ails would have to consider whether the walls were lined with his old friends—ready for a fight to the death.

At his feet, a large circle appeared—a sign of the truth.

"Wow, looks like there’s no issue then. But I still want to ask, your partner isn’t dead, right?" The three-eyed girl nodded, the previous statement having passed the test, which meant there usually wouldn’t be any trouble.

And this statement too passed, leaving no doubts.

"Of course! He’s not dead." As soon as he finished speaking, Ails noticed a large cross appear under his feet.

He and the three-eyed girl fell silent at the same time, creating an extremely awkward situation.

"You lied," the three-eyed girl said as she picked up a bell on the table—a signal for alarm.

"I swear he was fine when we split up! Not a thing wrong! He rode off on his mechanical mount himself!" Ails screamed in rebuttal—if the girl rang the bell, in the next second, a quick-response team from the Church of Justice might well burst in. If his disguise were broken, Ails might not live long enough to show his ID and prove his identity.

Simultaneously, a large circle appeared under his feet.

Both Ails and the three-eyed girl fell silent again, and eventually, she looked up at Ails, "Maybe you have many partners, right?"

Although she held the bell, the three-eyed girl didn’t ring it.

"Of course, I wasn’t clear. Indeed, I got this item from my partner Malin Gaiate. I swear he was full of life when we parted," Ails continued.

This time, a circle appeared again to affirm his testimony.

After this test, the three-eyed girl finally set down the bell, "Next time, please bring a name, because otherwise, how can anyone know who has died?"

"Sure, sure. I am certain that my partner Malin Gaiate is a moving disaster. He is the walking death knell in the eyes of the wicked, an entity that even Death would avoid. Believe me, girl, don’t think about crossing him; it would end very badly for you..." Before he could finish, Ails looked down at the circle under his feet, fell silent for a moment.

Eventually, he smiled awkwardly and stepped out of the array, "I think I should be in the clear now, right?"

"All clear now. Since that’s settled, I’d like to know the psychological price of the creator of this potion," said the girl, her expression much improved since Mr. Disguise was clearly not a murderous thief. After all, in Mark City, who’d be without a disguise?

"Hmm, a hundred pounds of pure gold ingots or the equivalent, 24 hours for the auction," Ails casually set a price because he had heard Malin say that this item was only about 1,000 on their black market. Mowish paper money was considered not even good enough to light a fire, as for wiping something with it, it was deemed too stiff.

This price was definitely problematic, but in Ails’s view, a hundred pounds of gold ingots felt too expensive, especially since Malin should be able to mass-produce about a dozen a week.

So, setting a high price, he wanted to see if there really were wealthy people who considered money as dirt to join the grand event.

If there were, he would see how much he could take in each week, then negotiate the price with Malin. As a Lich, Ails was acutely aware of the child’s infinite potential. Hence, having established a relationship, he needed to maintain it well, after all, he was a Lich, not a psychopathic serial killer.

What, you say Liches are even worse?

Heh, foolish humans. Liches might collect souls, but they care about the quality. Only those whose brains and souls are both rotten would think of overcoming everything with quantity.

Their idea is good, but is it possible? Can ants shake a giant tree?

Of course not.

So, why not use legs when you have them?

Standing on the streets of Mark City, Ails took out a cigarette case. It was a little gift from Malin, a thoughtful young gentleman indeed, catering to others’ likes seemed to be his forte.

Lighting a cigarette and putting away the case, Ails enjoyed the pleasure brought by the working of his lungs. Each time he turned back into a human, it brought back memories of the past. At this moment, Ails was no longer the cunning and greedy Lich, but a person who had lived for a very long time.

Mr. Malin... well, how to put it, he was an excellent collaborator, a good companion, and this young gentleman seemed not to care much about the background of his collaborators. As long as one could speak and understand human affairs, he accepted them, which made Ails quite fond of him.

After all, if those colleagues and nobles he had faced back then had even half the temperament of Mr. Malin, Ails believed he wouldn’t have ended up where he was today.

Though he had forgotten many familiar faces and even their names, Ails still remembered his favorite girl from his youth, a princess with golden hair. It’s interesting to think about why someone like Ails, with no strengths other than talent, would be favored by a princess.

He had long forgotten though, Ails thought; he only remembered that in the end, she married a prince from a neighboring country, and her happy life taught Ails—that without love, a person couldn’t be complete.

As for why he became a Lich... Ha ha, that’s another story. It’s a long one, and Ails never considered himself much of a storyteller. So, if he were to really tell it, there would be a fee.

The cigarette burned, and Ails leaned against the railing, watching the pedestrians on the streets. Fate had already chosen paths for everyone; some walked their path, and others thought they had forged new ones. But they would never know that fate was still smiling at them because all of this was also arranged by fate.

It was true for him, for Mr. Malin, for everyone. Fate is just like that, cruel and merciless.

Whenever Mr. Malin came to mind, Ails would wonder where such a marvelous person came from.

He was conservative, never opposing tradition, yet he also had a far-sighted vision capable of producing blueprints and perspectives beyond this era.

He was xenophobic, holding humans in the utmost regard, but still accepted beings like him as Undead, and treated all creatures equally.

The duality that could be seen in humans seemed to be found in him as well.

Quite interesting. Ails hoped he would live a long life, otherwise... maybe in a hundred years, he would have an unbeatable colleague... No, maybe it wouldn’t take that many years; after all, it was a world that could ignite at any moment.

Ails tossed the stub of the cigarette aside.

He saw there were Undead over there, seemingly looking for temporary teammates.

Not in the mood to meddle, he turned and left.

Rounding the corner and seeing the girls standing by the roadside, Ails raised his eyebrows, hitched up his belt, and approached a beautiful woman with horns.

"What a cutie. Care for some fun?" the horned woman noticed the customer and leaned forward.

Ails felt as if he received a super ability healing spell, splendid: "Yes, please take me to heaven."

After speaking, Ails jumped into her embrace.

Life is short, we must enjoy ourselves while we can.

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