Chapter 500: Manuscript

Kael eventually broke the silence.

"That felt wrong."

Bruce glanced at him. "It felt wrong."

"Not just the attack. The whole rhythm of the day before that happened was normal, but then that one thing was..." Kael searched for the right word. "Off. It was almost like the dungeon changed its mood."

Bruce considered the statement for several seconds before nodding.

"Yes."

"I don’t know what to make of it."

"Neither do I. We’ll know more when the investigation team reports."

That was the only reasonable answer.

They continued walking.

By the time they reached the Guild exchange, the strange atmosphere of the Deepwood had begun to fade from their immediate thoughts. There were still questions that Bruce wanted answered, but there was little he could do about them at the moment.

The senior clerk processed their haul with his usual efficiency, weighing and evaluating everything before transferring the appropriate amount of Soul Points to Bruce’s account.

Afterward, Bruce checked his status window.

Soul Points: 4,712

The number was enough to make him pause for a moment.

His savings were steadily growing.

By the standards of an E-rank hunter, Bruce was objectively wealthy. Most hunters at his rank could not casually accumulate thousands of Soul Points without having to spend a significant portion of their earnings on food, equipment, healing supplies, housing, and other necessities.

Yet Bruce had no intention of becoming complacent.

He understood that wealth was relative.

Once he reached the higher ranks, the cost of everything would increase dramatically. Better equipment would cost more. Better food would cost more. Better housing would cost more. Information from experienced hunters and organizations would become more expensive. Even the resources required to advance his abilities would eventually reach prices that made his current savings look insignificant.

What he had now was not true wealth.

It was a foundation. A buffer that gave him options.

And today, he intended to use some of it.

By the middle of the afternoon, Bruce and Kael reached the market square. The streets were considerably busier than they had been earlier in the morning, with hunters returning from various districts, merchants displaying their goods, and information brokers quietly moving between stalls.

Bruce had two purchases in mind.

The first was something he had been meaning to buy for some time: proper writing tools for practicing soul-script.

Until now, he had primarily practiced the basic forms in the air, following the instructions from the manual. That had been useful for understanding the movements, but the manual had specifically recommended written practice as one of the fastest ways to internalize seal forms.

Bruce had kept postponing it because he had prioritized hunting.

With the Deepwood now closed for at least a day, however, he would have more time to study.

There was no longer a reason to delay.

They stopped at a stall specializing in writing equipment, where Bruce purchased a proper stylus for thirty Soul Points and a stack of soul-paper containing one hundred sheets for another twenty points.

The stall keeper wrapped everything carefully in bark-cloth before handing the package to him.

Bruce placed the bundle into his spatial ring.

The second destination was the small, quiet book stall he had visited previously.

The stall was still tucked away from the busier parts of the market, its display remaining almost disappointingly sparse compared to the larger book merchants nearby. However, Bruce had already learned that the number of books on display had little relationship to the quality of what the stall keeper actually possessed.

As they approached, Bruce immediately noticed three new items resting near the edge of the counter.

One was a bound manuscript.

Another was a book.

The third was a small folded pamphlet.

The stall keeper looked up as Bruce approached and gave him a faint smile.

"Bruce."

"You remembered."

"You gave me your name, and you asked about the lecture manuscript. I set it aside for you."

Bruce looked toward the bound manuscript.

"How much?"

"Two hundred, as I said."

The stall keeper then tapped the second book.

"The theory of talents by class is still one hundred."

Finally, he picked up the small folded pamphlet.

"And I have something else you might want."

Bruce’s attention shifted to it.

The stall keeper held it between two fingers.

"It’s a short essay written by a soul who once studied at the Library of Small Voices. He wrote about first-principle soul-script for readers who wanted to understand it beyond the standard manual."

"An advanced manual?"

"Not exactly." The stall keeper shook his head. "It’s more of a reflection. The author was a scribe named Yolen. He lived about one hundred and forty years ago and worked primarily on the theoretical side of soul-script rather than its practical application."

He placed the pamphlet on the counter.

"His writing isn’t easy. In fact, most people probably won’t enjoy reading it. But it’s honest. If you take your time with it, I think it will change the way you understand what you’re doing."

Bruce studied the pamphlet for several moments.

Then he looked at the stall keeper.

"How did you know I’d want this?"

The soul shrugged lightly.

"I didn’t. But you bought the basic manual, and you have the look of a soul who is going to want more than the standard system."

Bruce remained silent for a moment.

The stall keeper smiled faintly.

"Some people want instructions. Others want to understand why the instructions work."

That distinction interested Bruce.

He picked up the pamphlet, examined it briefly, and then placed it beside the other two books.

"All three."

The stall keeper made a small tally.

"Three hundred and fifty."

Bruce paid without hesitation.

The stall keeper carefully wrapped all three items in bark-cloth and handed the package across the counter. Bruce accepted it and placed it inside his spatial ring.

"Come back when you finish them," the stall keeper said. "I’ll find you more."

"Thank you."

Bruce turned to leave.

"Ackerman."

He stopped.

Bruce slowly looked back.

The stall keeper was watching him.

Bruce narrowed his eyes slightly.

The man had just used his surname.

Bruce had never introduced himself that way.

"You know."

The stall keeper’s expression remained calm.

"The seal on your hand isn’t particularly subtle in this district. I read seals. I know whose it is."

Bruce’s gaze hardened slightly.

"I also know the sponsorship carries a name near the front of the records at the Library."

Kael, who had been standing nearby, glanced between the two men.

Bruce studied the stall keeper carefully.

"You have contacts at the Library."

"I have colleagues at the Library," the stall keeper corrected. "I trade books. I move information. I am, as you have probably guessed, not merely a stall keeper."

There was no arrogance in his voice. He said it almost casually, as though he were discussing the weather.

"But I have no faction," he continued. "No patron. I sell books, and I make my living doing so. If you ever want something specific that I don’t have, come to me. I’ll find it."

He paused briefly.

"That is the extent of my involvement in anyone else’s business."

Bruce considered his words.

"That is a useful thing to have."

"It is."

The stall keeper gave him a small nod.

"Take care of your reading, Ackerman."

"I will."

Bruce and Kael finally left the stall and disappeared into the flow of the market.

They remained silent for a short while as they made their way away from the busier section.

Eventually, Kael spoke.

"He’s an information broker."

Bruce glanced at him.

"Yes. A quiet one. The kind who doesn’t sell his own services so much as he sells access to other people’s writings."

Kael thought about that.

"That’s a good kind of connection to have."

"It is."

After another moment, Kael asked, "Do we trust him?"

Bruce looked ahead at the road leading back toward the rooming house.

"We trust him for books," he said. "We don’t trust him for anything else yet."

Kael nodded.

"Fair."

Bruce continued walking.

"But the books he sells should be genuine. His entire business depends on his reputation. If he starts selling forged material or unreliable information, he loses the one thing that keeps people coming back."

"That makes sense."

"It does."

The two continued through the market district as the afternoon slowly gave way to evening. Bruce could already feel the weight of the books inside his spatial ring, along with the anticipation of finally having enough uninterrupted time to study them.

The Deepwood would be closed tomorrow.

That meant no hunting.

No wasted travel.

No need to divide his attention between earning Soul Points and pursuing his studies.

For the first time since arriving in Xiltra, Bruce would have an entire day to focus on understanding soul-script.

And after what had happened in the Deepwood, he suspected that understanding his abilities sooner rather than later might prove far more important than he had originally thought.

With that thought lingering in his mind, Bruce and Kael continued toward the rooming house in the late afternoon.