Novel Full Chapter 1742: Desert Market
Chapter 1742: Desert Market
Villain Ch 1742. Desert Market
Sometimes the market in Hell’s Gate felt more alive than the actual battles. Here, in this desert square of stone, life exploded in the weirdest ways. He could walk through one alley and hear three different guilds negotiating underground PvP events, while someone else stood on a table spamming “MEAT PIES 500g – FULL BUFF – CHEWY GUARANTEED” in all caps.
Allen kept walking. No rush. Just browsing. This market was less crowded than Ront city, yet… peaceful. Less people who recognized him. Not to mention his new current disguise gave him just enough edge to be noticed by wary newbies, but not enough notoriety to spark whispers.
It let him breathe.
He strolled past a vendor with a chalkboard sign reading.
“Cursed Jewelry! May or May Not Eat Your Fingers!”
“Yo,” the vendor—a bored warlock with black lipstick and a crow on her shoulder—called out, waving a clawed hand lazily from behind her booth. “You’re the son of this game’s owner, right? You look like you need a soulbound wedding ring. Half-off for morally ambiguous types.”
Allen stopped.
Just for a second.
Not because she said something threatening. But because… huh. That was new.
She recognized him.
And yet—she didn’t scream. Didn’t ping her party. Didn’t grovel or run or start a livestream. She just sat there under her black parasol, leaned back with one foot resting on a crate of what looked like demon-horn earrings, and offered her items like Allen was just another player. Like he was some weird side NPC that wandered the market in his spare time.
That?
That was kind of refreshing.
He looked at her for a beat longer. The crow tilted its head. She popped a piece of cursed bubblegum—purple smoke curled out the side of her mouth when it snapped.
Allen raised a gloved hand in a vague decline, his voice dry. “Already emotionally unavailable.”
The warlock smirked. “Aren’t we all.”
He moved on.
Next booth was a mess—an open crate with a pile of mismatched weapons dumped inside. The sign taped to the front read…
“CLEARANCE – ALL GEAR UNDER +6. NO REFUNDS. NO CRYING.”
Allen crouched, digging through the pile for a second. Rusted blades. A staff that still had moss on it. A cursed broomstick labeled “Witch’s Divorce Settlement.” He chuckled and stood back up.
The vendor—a dwarf in a rainbow apron—grinned at him. “Looking for heartbreak or just casual disappointment?”
Allen tilted his head. “Got anything that screams?” he joked.
“Top shelf,” the dwarf said without missing a beat. “Pairs well with mid-tier trauma and a lack of raid invites.”
Allen gave him a two-finger salute and walked on, pace slow, eyes always scanning.
Then he saw it.
A dagger.
+9 Lifesteal – Twin Fang Variant – Green-glow Mod
Pretty. But listed at three times its actual value.
He stopped just in front of the booth, arms crossed. Behind the counter, a nervous-looking rogue in leather armor was already sweating.
“Special price today,” the rogue said quickly. “Only 90k. No one’s selling this right now.”
Allen stared.
The rogue shifted. He squinted his eyes and looked at him like ‘I think I know you but I’m not sure.’ “Limited drop. High demand. Uh… you main daggers?”
“No,” Allen said flatly. “I main disappointment.” Yeah, those things were overpriced.
He walked away, leaving the rogue blinking in silence.
Allen didn’t stop. He slipped back into the crowd, boots crunching over fractured cobblestones and ash-dusted stalls. The air smelled like firebloom petals and fried mantis legs. The usual Gorroc market vibe—part exotic bazaar, part food court, all chaos.
He checked a few more vendors—some decent, some trash. One offered him a +7 burn-resistant cloak with a “bonus” flaming effect that looked like a toddler’s magic mod. Another tried to scam him with “Refined Darksteel”.
He wasn’t impressed.
What he really needed were upgrade stones. Tier crystals. Something worth fusing into his core gear to push past the softcap. He wasn’t even asking for Epic-grade. Just… something decent. But no dice.
Allen paused near the edge of the trading quadrant and pulled open his interface with a quiet sigh.
Inventory check.
He scrolled.
Potions? Plenty.
Unbound materials? Enough for two more gear enchants, but not the tier boost he wanted.
His raid drop was still on cooldown for trade.
He was just sliding the interface closed when he heard it…
Fast footsteps. Heavy gear.
“Yo! Yo! Wait up!”
Allen turned slightly, shoulders tensing.
Then he saw him.
Red_King.
A familiar brick wall of a player in full beast-forged armor, sprinting through the plaza like someone just set fire to his gold stash. His blood-red cape was flapping dramatically behind him, and his boots made a sound like thunder on the stone tiles.
Allen blinked once. “You’re loud.”
“Yeah, yeah, no time for roast mode,” Red_King puffed, slowing just enough to speak. “You seen Alex?”
Allen shook his head. “I just logged in.”
Red_King looked around like Alex might rise from the tiles. “Damn it. Where is he?”
Allen raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you just check the guild map?”
“He turned it off. His location,” Red_King said, exasperated. “Some guild members are targeting him now!”
Allen blinked. “Targeting Alex? He’s a healer. Why?”
“Yeah, well,” Red_King huffed. “You know how his rep went nuclear after that -1 HP, right? People are calling him the Unkillable Apostle now. Some even think it was planned.”
Allen frowned. “Uh…What?”
“Exactly!” Red_King flailed. “So now everyone either wants to recruit him or 1v1 him. Trying to understand why he could land a hit on the devil emperor. He’s been dodging messages all day. Dude’s not built for attention.”
Allen exhaled slowly.
Yeah. That sounded like Alex.
Soft-spoken. Pure-support. The kind of player who said sorry after saving your life because his healing skills were delayed. The kind who never joined voice chat unless someone begged him to. And now?
Now he was famous.
Allen didn’t say anything for a moment. Just stared at the crowd. All the chaos. The noise. His girls hadn’t been online yet.
Then he closed his interface.
“I’ll help you to find him.”
Red_King blinked. “You serious?”
Allen’s voice was calm. Final. “Yeah. I mean I have nothing to do.”
Allen understood what it felt like—to be hunted for being something he didn’t choose. And yeah… part of it was kinda… his fault.
So yeah.
Time to find Alex.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
Thank you for the Magic Castle, William_Tex!
600 Power Stone = 1 bonus chapters
400 Golden Ticket= 1 bonus chapter
Magic Castle= 4 bonus chapters
Space Craft= 6 bonus chapters
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