My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 833 - 834: Broker

Setting aside his respect for Seraph Null’s ruthless efficiency, the group still required a place to recover and establish a base of operations.

"In Aetherus, a simple inn would usually suffice," he remarked.

Damon scanned the surrounding streets, searching for any sign of lodging. His stomach let out a faint growl of hunger.

A much louder rumbling sound followed immediately after.

He stopped in his tracks. That second sound hadn't come from him.

Turning his head, he saw Sithara with her eyebrows raised, her wide eyes filled with sheer embarrassment.

Her complexion deepened until her face was a vivid crimson.

"I... I..." She dipped her chin and whispered, "Just... hungry..."

A thin smile played on Damon's lips.

"I imagine a tavern would be the most efficient place to pick up some intel."

Lazarak gave a firm nod of approval.

"We should ask the locals for the way."

Damon shook his head in disagreement.

"In a den like this, they would swallow you whole. Multiple sets of eyes are already tracking us. The plan is to—"

Suddenly, he lunged out. Shadows erupted from the nearby walls, snaring a man from a dark alley by the throat and slamming him violently against the brickwork.

"—ask them for directions."

Damon faced the captive and unleashed his Omen of Dread.

The man’s strength vanished instantly. Before a scream could escape his throat, he lost control of his bowels in terror.

Damon made a brief face of disgust, then manipulated the shadows surrounding the man into razor-sharp spikes that hovered just a fraction of an inch from his flesh.

"Tell me the way to the best place for a meal. If you lie, you die."

The man swallowed hard.

He hadn't actually committed a crime yet. Like everyone else in the area, he had simply been tailing them. At worst, he intended to demand mana cores for information or mug them if they appeared weak.

It was just standard business.

He never dreamed he had accidentally provoked a literal demon.

With a shaking hand, he pointed down the road.

"That way. Take a few left turns. The Nude Virgin is the spot."

Damon gave a curt nod.

The shadows suddenly constricted with a revolting crunch, consuming both flesh and bone.

A soft chime from the system rang in his mind.

[You have slain Kiea]

His internal hunger subsided slightly.

"I warned you. If you lie, you die."

Damon glanced in the opposite direction.

A second man, who had been lurking in the darkness, was yanked forward as the shadows turned solid like a heavy shroud, dragging him toward Damon.

"The same rules apply to you. Lie and you die."

Damon spoke the words with a melodic, light tone.

The man crumbled immediately, desperately spilling every piece of information he possessed. Once he was finished, Damon tossed him aside, leaving him to heap on the pavement.

Sithara walked close to Damon’s side. She reached out and took hold of his hand.

Damon looked down at her with a frown, but she seemed completely unbothered by his gaze.

"How were you certain the first man was lying?"

Damon knew the answer instinctively. He had survived that world.

"I was raised on streets exactly like these. I recognize the patterns of lowlifes. After all, I used to be one."

Sithara looked up at him and beamed.

"I don't see you as a lowlife. You are our king."

Damon merely smiled and shook his head, offering no verbal reply.

"Wonderful, I'm a king without a kingdom," he eventually muttered.

The tavern known as the Nude Virgin was situated on a crowded thoroughfare. It was slightly cleaner than the slums they had traversed, though only by a small margin.

The moment Damon stepped inside, every eye in the room shifted toward him. The patrons all made a poor attempt at hiding their stares.

His high-quality armor signaled wealth, but the aura of menace radiating from him and Matia was enough to keep any sudden greed in check.

He surveyed the tavern until his eyes landed on a solitary man seated in a corner.

Damon pulled up a chair across from him. Sithara and her brother took their places beside him, while Lazarak sat down a moment later.

Damon signaled to a server, a burly man who was missing an arm.

"Bring my friend here a drink."

The lone man flashed a smile.

"What can I do for you, friend?"

Damon’s face remained a mask of calm.

"What is your current rate?"

The man gave a casual shrug.

"That depends. What is the nature of your inquiry?"

Lyn and Sithara were confused by the exchange. Lazarak, however, grasped the situation.

The man was an information broker.

Even Lazarak wasn't sure how Damon had identified him so quickly.

"For a start," Damon began, "explain how the guards here function."

"Heheh."

The broker took a long pull from the drink the server provided.

Lyn followed his lead, taking a sip of the local liquor, and nearly gagged on the harsh, bitter burn.

Sithara reached for her own glass, but Damon silently intercepted it. After a moment's pause, he reached into his shadow storage and retrieved a cup of tamberry juice, placing it before her.

She pouted at him clearly.

"That information will cost you three rank three cores," the broker stated. "A fair price, considering you're newcomers."

Damon's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Three rank one cores. You'll accept that. This is common knowledge."

"Two rank two cores," the man bargained back.

Damon folded his arms across his chest.

"One rank one core. Do you want me to keep going lower?"

The man chuckled.

"You're a tough negotiator, friend."

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. The scent of charred herbs hung on his breath.

"The hierarchy of power in Yari is a messy thing. But if you strip it down, it's quite basic."

Damon gave a slow nod.

"Continue."

The broker held out his palms in expectation.

Damon looked toward Sithara. She reached into her bag and produced a rank one core for the man.

The broker smiled and lowered his voice further.

"The Chain Knights rank above the standard gate guards. They are elite soldiers with a cult-like devotion, picked for their loyalty rather than their raw talent."

He partially covered his mouth as he spoke.

"Then you have the Archivists. They are the record keepers and the spies. They track every sin, every crime, and every level of insubordination. They determine the punishments later on. Those bastards are the eyes and ears of Yari."

His voice became barely audible.

"You'll never spot them. But they are always watching you."

The broker seemed more terrified of the Archivists than anything else. Damon glanced at the man's brand; that was likely the source of their surveillance.

"Next come the Wardens. They are high-level enforcers wielding semi-divine authority. They reside in the deepest sectors. The king of the chained people is one of their rank."

He swallowed nervously.

"And finally, there is Seraph Null himself. The sovereign of this realm. He lives within the Black Spire."

Damon nodded in understanding.

He slowly withdrew a rank three core. It was substantial, pulsing with a soft glow of concentrated energy.

"Tell me something truly interesting, and I will make this yours."

His smile turned sharp and predatory.

"But if it's boring, you die."

He leaned forward slightly.

"Do we have a deal?"