Chapter 61 — The Interstellar Black Market

The gloomy subspace gravitational corridor shattered with a crash at the rear of the ship, like bursting glazed glass.

"Off-track No. 1" and several wasteland powered transport shuttles, bearing severe physical dents, abruptly warped out of the event horizon of the red stone Grand Canyon that had been swallowed by flames and tempests, amidst violent mechanical shaking and overloading buzzes. The pitch-black Void outside the bulkhead suddenly contracted, and then, a massive stellar ring composed of tens of thousands of giant crimson meteorites and deathly abandoned mining celestial bodies laid across before them, like a furiously sleeping giant steel python.

This was the border junction of the star-realm governed by the Taurus Lord—the interstellar free black market known as the "Ring of Molten Iron".

"Warning! Gravitational vector altered; we have entered the periphery of the Taurus Lord's defensive polarized field."

Inside the cockpit, veteran Caleb gripped the remaining left-hand joystick in a death-grip, his mechanical prosthetic eye flashing with an extremely vigilant amber cold light. Through the spiderweb-cracked front windshield, he stared at that massive, ever-burning den of iniquity in the distance.

Deep within the hollowed-out cores of several meteorites, densely packed translucent high-energy auroral neon lights spread like flowing toxic juice. Thousands of giant anti-gravity smuggling barges and heavy cargo ships bearing the illegal insignias of various star-realms shuttled through the narrow crevices of the mine shafts like locusts feeding on carrion. Blinding high-energy electrical arcs sparked between the armor plates of battleships, casting a sickly and twisted golden hue over the wasteland deep space.

"What a fragrant smell of black oil... and the scent of living star-coins." Caleb spat a wad of saliva mixed with the smell of gunpowder and blood, his eyes cold and hard. "The Divine Court appears noble and holy on the surface, calling the surface beings lower-dimensional waste-scum, but the contraband tax collected daily in this black market set up by the Taurus Lord right under his own nose is probably enough to forge the golden statues of half a temple."

Elias stood before the porthole, the heavy cutting blade stained with divine blood sheathed diagonally on the steel clasp on his back. He rubbed his dry, red eyes, his voice somewhat hoarse, but his blade-like gaze remained clear: "The holiness of the gods has always been built upon the bleached bones of mortals. This place is teeming with corrupt bureaucrats of the Divine Court, smuggling caravans, and speculators. Although dangerous, it is the only place in the entire star-realm where one can buy high-purity nebula-cobalt ore and high-density shield plating without needing a divine-right household registration. Caleb, Orion and I will form a procurement squad and disembark; Nova will stay on the ship to oversee repairs."

Just then, a faint, crisp sound of boots stepping on the steel grating came from the rear of the cargo hold.

Vespera, who had been secretly traveling with them, walked out slowly. She was still wrapped in that old cloak of indistinguishable origin, her pale face half-hidden in the shadow of the hood, her beautiful violet eyes flashing with a cold light in the shadows.

"I'm going too." Vespera walked up to the three of them, her voice as cool as night dew, leaving absolutely no room for negotiation.

Caleb couldn't help but furrow his brow tightly, shouting with a mix of concern and confusion, "Girl, the black market is full of man-eating bounty hunters. You've been exhausted for days in the Grand Canyon; staying in the cabin to rest is the safest. Why suddenly think of diving into a dead end swarming with snakes and dragons like this?"

Facing Caleb's confusion, the corner of Vespera's mouth curled up slightly into a cold, languid sneer.

In her higher-dimensional divine awareness horizon, the two mortals before her fundamentally could not comprehend her true difficulties—if she didn't stick closely to this "Anomaly code" Elias to maintain soul resonance, her sealed higher-dimensional dark matter divine core would violently overheat and cause excruciating pain in a short time (the need for the karmic buffer); what's more, she had to personally watch this youth step into the Divine Court's net.

But on the surface, she simply rested one hand lightly on her slender waist, speaking with a bit of haughty and cold sharp-tongued sarcasm: "If your brain isn't completely rusted yet, you should understand—under the high-pressure polarized net established in Taurus, three scarred, wanted men carrying contraband heavy weapons are more glaring than a bright nuclear bomb. Bringing along a quiet refugee family member makes you look much more like ordinary fleeing wasteland merchants in the eyes of the patrol squads."

Caleb paused, rubbing his stubble: "That... makes sense."

"Vespera has a point." Elias looked at the emaciated Vespera beside him and nodded, "Since you've decided to come along, the black market environment is chaotic; stick close to me later."

As Elias spoke, he unfastened a wear-resistant khaki canvas trench coat from his shoulder and draped it over Vespera's thin shoulders, carefully pulling the collar to shield her from the highly corrosive industrial wind and sand on the outskirts of the black market.

Just then, faint footsteps came from behind the cabin door. The stargazer girl Lyra walked out holding the Off-Orbit Astrolabe, just in time to see Elias tightening the collar for Vespera.

Lyra's bright pupils shrank slightly, and her slender fingers unconsciously tightened around the brass edge of the astrolabe. She suppressed the faint sourness welling up in her heart, pursed her lips, and stepped forward, saying, "Elias, I want to follow you into the black market too. Many smuggling merchants' astrolabes in the black market might have fake encryptions; I can help you distinguish the real from the fake on the spot using the astrolabe."

"No, Lyra." Elias looked at her, refusing with a gentle yet extremely firm gaze, "The black market is too dangerous, and the Off-Orbit Astrolabe requires you to constantly monitor the polarized blind spots and the Star-network patrol squads' gravity waves at the ship's main console. I can only be at ease if you stay here with Nova."

Hearing Elias explicitly refuse her company, Lyra's eyes dimmed. She snuck a peek at Vespera draped in Elias's trench coat, her tone unconsciously cooling by half a degree as she whispered, "Got it... then be careful out there."

Saying that, Lyra turned around and sat back down in front of the main console.

The moment she was enveloped by that trench coat, radiating the rough smell of steam soot and the body heat of the blonde youth, Vespera's delicate frame imperceptibly stiffened for a second. She indifferently withdrew the gaze she had swept over Lyra and pulled the trench coat closer.

Deep within her supreme divine core, standing high and mighty above billions of living beings, an absurd and unfamiliar emotion quietly spread. This lower-dimensional mortal was actually using a gentle attitude, like treating a blood-related younger sister, in an attempt to protect the Lord of Darkness who could erase the entire galaxy with a single thought.

"Foolish care." Vespera scoffed coldly deep in her mind, shifting her gaze away, "Self-righteousness unique to lower-dimensional creatures."

However, deep within her supreme origin that had 99% of its divine power sealed, that divine awareness—which had been originally irritated and oscillating due to plucking dark matter in higher dimensions—miraculously calmed down when it approached the unique "Anomaly code" soul frequency on Elias. The agonizing pain and energy overheating belonging to the God of Darkness were smoothly exported into the depths of Elias's fate-track through their hidden "karmic buffer" link.

The demigod Orion, standing to the side, had remained silent throughout. He wrapped the Orion's Bow, which radiated the afterglow of stars, tightly in a heavy wasteland wool cloak, the scar above his left eye twitching slightly. As "Off-track No. 1" slowly glided into the No. 3 ore dock in the lower level of the black market, Orion's brows furrowed tightly.

"The gravity here is extremely heavy." Orion gripped the notched combat blade at his waist tightly, his voice low like thunder, "This isn't the naturally formed gravity of celestial bodies, but rather the Taurus Lord etching his exclusive domain law, 'Stable as Mount Tai,' into the gravity crystal cores of the entire star ring. Here, the freedom of flight in any airspace is reduced by 70%. Once a conflict breaks out, we fundamentally won't be able to rely on our physical bodies to pull up and break out."

"That's just as well." Elias pulled down the brim of the trench coat hat, leading the group off the scrap iron elevator that spat high-pressure steam, "If it weren't for this iron-bucket-like surveillance and heavy gravity, this place wouldn't be called the 'Ring of Molten Iron'. Keep a low profile; we are looking for that smuggling merchant 'One-Eyed Quinn', who specializes in reselling abandoned ores from the Uranus school."

The moment the group stepped onto the surface of the black market, an extremely shocking and cruel interstellar tableau unfurled with a bang before their eyes.

Overhead was a massive anti-gravity casino suspended in mid-air and the summer resort palaces of Divine Court bureaucrats. Countless waterfalls condensed from pure liquid starlight poured down from a thousand meters high, radiating an extravagantly brilliant halo; while beneath their feet lay a crisscrossing maze of underground mine shafts, reeking of a pungent stench and metallic rust.

Tens of thousands of mortal mine-slaves, wearing gravity-blast collars around their necks, bore their shriveled, bare upper bodies as they carried tons of raw energy ores using their flesh in the highly radioactive mine pits. Their skin was evaporated into festering blood blisters by the high temperatures, their eyes numb and deathly still. If they slowed their movements even slightly, the Taurus Divine Court guards standing nearby holding high-voltage electric whips would sneer and lash out. The air was filled with the stench of charred flesh and miserable wails.

And in front of the luxurious trading house not far away, a minor Taurus official wearing a gorgeously divine gold-threaded robe was conversing loudly with several fat, large-eared interstellar smuggling merchants, playing with crystal-clear star-coins compressed from dozens of mortal souls in his hand, letting out bursts of merry laughter.

This cruel scene of lower-dimensional beings being thoroughly exploited and alienated into bottom-tier machines and nourishment made Elias's hands clench dead tight in his trench coat pockets, his knuckles turning white. The unyielding mortal fire deep in his eyes began to burn fiercely like crazy.

The true shackles of divine authority had never merely hung above the vault of heaven, but were deeply rooted in this sinful scorched earth corrupted by money and desire.