Chapter 18: The Man at the End of the Road
Yafeng Town, a remote town located at the southernmost tip of the United Kingdom, has attracted a large number of adventurers and merchants due to its proximity to the Purple Crystal Dungeon, rivaling the prosperity of some medium-sized cities.
The Adventurers' Guild has even established a regional branch here.
Thanks to the dungeon's resources, the area boasts a wealth of local specialties.
However, the most distinctive landmark of Yafeng Town is neither the precious high-purity magic crystals nor the diverse array of magical beast materials, but the signature brew of the Rotten Willow Tavern—a notoriously foul-smelling, murky liquid.
Even adventurers who have never set foot here have surely heard of this foul-smelling brew, said to be so potent that merely spilling it could kill a walking mushroom.
Despite its poor quality, the owner dilutes it with more water than the actual liquor.
Nevertheless, its pricing strategy of just one copper coin per cup makes it an indispensable beverage for lower-tier adventurers.
Naturally, the Rotten Willow Tavern has become the gathering place for all low-tier adventurers.
In Yafeng Town, if you randomly pull someone off the street, they might not know where the Adventurers' Guild office is, but they will definitely know the location of the Rotten Willow Tavern.
Today, the Rotten Willow Tavern is as crowded as usual with people from all walks of life.
They guzzle down the cheap wine and chat loudly about the latest gossip.
For example, the Hermit Empire's increasingly frequent maneuvers along the border;
or the Silver Thistle Squad's daring rescue of the duke's daughter from the depths of the dungeon three months ago, which earned them an extremely rare and lucrative reward—a city.
Now, the name "Silver Thistle" has become a legendary benchmark in the adventurer's trade. Every patron raising a glass to them has eyes burning with desire for fame and fortune.
When a disheveled, weary man pushed open the tavern's wooden door, no one spared him a second glance—such figures were a common sight in the tavern.
The man scanned the room and walked straight to the fat man sitting alone in the corner, who was sipping from a wooden cup, making the cheap, cloudy wine in his hand seem like some fine vintage.
The fat man recognized the man sitting across from him and called out his name:
"Dylan, it's been years.
Aren't you retired? Why are you looking for me?"
"Don't tell me you're missing your old buddy—I'll throw up."
"Fatso, are you still in that business?"
The fat man's nickname was Fatso, and Dylan didn't hide anything from him, directly stating his purpose, which startled the fat man across from him.
He quickly scanned the surroundings and, seeing that no one was paying attention to this corner, lowered his voice angrily and said:
"What are you doing? You almost said that word. Do you want to get me killed?"
Seeing the Fat Man's rage, Dylan grew even more excited.
"You're still doing it, aren't you? Hurry up and give me three portions."
He reached into his robe and pulled out a money pouch, pushing it toward the Fat Man. Inside were 27 silver coins.
The fat man narrowed his eyes, didn't touch the money bag, but instead took a good look at the man in front of him.
Compared to seven years ago, Dylan had aged significantly, his body was no longer as sturdy as before, and the calluses on his hands had almost disappeared.
"Sorry, Dylan, I can't sell it to you.
Judging by your appearance, your skills from back then have long since been abandoned.
We've been friends for so long; I can't watch you go to your death."
Dylan suddenly grabbed the fat man by the collar, his bloodshot eyes revealing the madness of someone driven to the brink.
But the fat man just stared back at him silently.
After a long moment, Dylan let go of his grip, collapsing to the ground, and pleaded softly:
"Fat man, please. My daughter was poisoned with blood poison during a border mission.
I need money—a lot of money.
I don't know what else to do... Please..."
The fat man fell silent.
Blood poison—the most vicious tactic of vampires.
Those infected with blood poison do not die immediately but are slowly transformed into blood-drinking monsters in agony.
These monsters, though retaining their memories before transformation, cannot suppress their bloodlust, even devouring their closest kin with tears in their eyes.
Only when facing vampires do they become completely obedient slaves.
There are remedies available, the most well-known of which are two: the Church's blessing or the anti-transformation potion.
Both can save the infected before they are fully transformed.
However, neither of these options is accessible to the common people.
The former requires a bishop-level figure to perform a baptism over several days, while the latter demands a staggering 50 gold coins.
Even with money, one might not be able to secure the connections needed for the former, so Dylan's target is clearly the latter.
So how can Dylan, who was at most a silver-ranked adventurer at his peak and has since seen his strength decline significantly, earn 50 gold coins in a short period of time?
There are only two ways to make money quickly: one is dangerous, and the other is illegal.
And both naturally involve the fastest way to make money.
On the fifth floor of the Purple Crystal Dungeon lies a notoriously infamous magical plant—the Parasitic Tree.
As its name suggests, it captures living beings and forces them into the tree's seeds, transforming them into new tree stumps. Those turned into tree stumps become the plant's mobile limbs.
During this process, the host's brain is irreversibly damaged, and even if rescued, they are merely a living shell—hence their infamous reputation.
However, few know that the seeds of the Parasitic Tree are an exceptional ingredient for psychotropic agents.
However, due to its inhumane production method, it has been classified as a banned substance by the United Kingdom, restricting its circulation and the spread of this knowledge.
But the more it is banned, the higher the profit.
And where there is profit, there will be those who secretly engage in it.
The fat man has a substance called "Sleep Powder," which is an essential item for harvesting parasitic tree fruits—and exactly what Dylan wants to buy.
However, harvesting parasitic tree fruits is no easy task.
Though the trees are low-level, they are numerous and concentrated in the swamp terrain of the fifth layer.
Moreover, the most troublesome aspect is that they can use the skills or magic of their hosts.
Imagine being surrounded by dozens of parasitic trees, each with different skills and magic. Even high-level adventurers could easily meet their end if they're not careful.
And then they're turned into new, stronger parasitic trees.
This is a magical plant whose danger far exceeds its level.
Looking at Dylan's expression, the Fat Man knew that he would go alone to maximize his earnings.
Of course, in reality, even if he wanted to find a group to tackle this, no one would want him.
The Fat Man was almost certain he would die down there.
But... the fat man had a daughter in recent years, and she was the apple of his eye.
He knew that watching his only daughter slowly turn into a bloodsucker would be more painful and despairing than death.
"Ah—" The fat man sighed deeply, took the money bag on the table, and secretly slipped five small packets to Dylan.
"Five portions!?"
"This stuff is much cheaper than it used to be. I'll spare you the money out of old friendship. If you're lucky enough… this trip will be enough."
"Thank you… thank you…" Dylan clutched the bags tightly, as if he had grasped hope, and hurriedly left the tavern.
The fat man picked up the cup of cheap wine and took a small sip.
"Hmph, I lost 73 silver.
My heart is too soft. I guess I'm getting old and not suited for this line of work anymore.
I should retire and go back to my hometown in a while…"
(End of this chapter)