Sand Mage of the Burnt Desert Chapter 607
Previously on Sand Mage of the Burnt Desert...
Zeon then grasped his misstep and took a seat before the bartender.
The bartender gestured towards the hat Zeon wore, inquiring,
“Isn’t it bothersome to keep that on?”
“I was about to remove it.”
With his usual acute observation, the bartender watched as Zeon took off his hat.
Here was a stranger who had abruptly materialized within the pub. Furthermore, he had kept his hat pulled low, obscuring his features.
Any individual would find such behavior suspect.
Not only the bartender but also the patrons and the guards present within the pub meticulously scrutinized Zeon’s face.
Upon removing his hat, his countenance was unveiled.
However, it was not his true face that was revealed.
His downcast eyes appeared listless, his unrefined nose and facial structure bore a ruddy tint.
He presented the image of a common drunkard.
Observing this, the bartender’s vigilance lessened.
It was not an unusual occurrence for an inebriated patron to frequent a drinking establishment.
Zeon addressed the bartender,
“Do you have any fine alcohol?”
“Naturally. However, premium spirits come at a cost—do you possess the funds for it?”
“Will this suffice?”
Zeon produced currency and placed it upon the counter.
It was more than adequate to procure several bottles of the bar’s most esteemed liquor.
A grin bloomed on the bartender’s countenance.
“That is more than ample.”
He swiftly retrieved the establishment’s premier liquor and dispensed a measure into a glass.
“It is named Dragon’s Breath. Its potency is considerable, so it would be wise to drink it with restraint.”
“Merely gazing at it evokes a feeling of warmth.”
Zeon remarked with a jest as he lifted the glass to his lips.
The intense aroma dulled his olfactory senses.
As the bartender had cautioned, it was not merely strong—it was exceptionally potent.
Zeon consumed it with composure.
Alcohol was not to his liking, yet this did not imply an inability to imbibe.
A single glass presented no challenge to him.
While holding the liquid in his mouth, he contemplated,
‘So, it functions as intended.’
The visage he currently presented was artificial.
It was an illusory face fabricated through the application of Exion.
He had enveloped his genuine face with a thin stratum, utilizing the Exion within his physique, thereby altering its appearance to that of authentic skin.
Previously, this had been mere speculation, and he was uncertain if it would prove effective, but it flawlessly replicated the texture of real skin—sufficient to completely deceive the bartender and the other patrons.
‘This can prove useful for future disguises.’
The mere discovery of an additional application for Exion constituted a significant advantage.
While feigning to drink, Zeon meticulously observed the unfolding events within the pub.
He witnessed the individual he was trailing engaged in conversation with a courtesan, receiving a vial that contained a drug.
“Damn it! I sampled what I provided my wife, and it’s absolutely astonishing.”
“What is so remarkable about it?”
“It remains erect and shows no sign of subsiding.”
“Impressive! Your wife must have experienced quite a night.”
“She was overcome with how exhilarating it was. Heh-heh!”
“You see? I informed you.”
“Indeed! You are unparalleled.”
The man drew the courtesan into his embrace and kissed her ardently.
Had there not been onlookers, he appeared poised to engage in intimacy right there and then.
Yet, no one raised an objection.
This was the prevailing atmosphere of such a locale.
On the upper level of the pub were the chambers reserved for the courtesans.
Should individuals find mutual attraction here, they would promptly ascend to the upper floor for conjugal relations.
In fact, some could barely contain their desires and proceeded upstairs, escorting the courtesans in their arms.
As Zeon closely observed the scene, the bartender interjected,
“What, do you require a companion? Shall I summon one for you?”
“No, that is quite alright. I am not inclined at present.”
“Why is that?”
“It is not performing optimally…”
“Ah!”
The bartender cast a sympathetic glance towards Zeon’s lower region.
Zeon took a drink and grumbled,
“What is the point if she is attractive, yet it fails to function?”
“Blast it! That will not do.”
The bartender reacted as though the predicament were his own.
After a discreet survey of his surroundings, he produced a small vial.
“I shall arrange for a courtesan, so take this and give it a trial.”
“What is this intended to be?”
“You are familiar with City Hall, are you not?”
“Who is not?”
“This was developed in a clandestine laboratory within City Hall. It is an exceptional stamina enhancer. Should a woman partake, her skin becomes noticeably smoother…”
“Damn! There are countless substances like that. I have experimented with all the so-called potent concoctions, and none have yielded results.”
“This one deviates from the norm.”
“In what manner does it differ?”
“You shall ascertain upon consumption. It will invigorate you thoroughly.”
“Hmph! None of those remedies are effective.”
“Hark! Simply ingest it as I have instructed. Should it prove ineffective, I shall cover the cost of your beverages.”
He appeared prepared to force-feed it to him should he refuse.
A refusal would undoubtedly arouse suspicion.
With no recourse, Zeon accepted a single pill and brought it to his lips.
“Fine. I shall take it and observe the outcome.”
“You will be astonished the very instant you consume it.”
The bartender intently watched Zeon’s mouth.
His objective was to confirm that Zeon had indeed swallowed the pill.
It seemed unfeasible to elude his scrutiny.
Ultimately, Zeon placed the pill—believed to be a drug—into his mouth and ingested it.
He closed his eyes, concentrating on the internal physiological response.
Initially, a tingling sensation on his tongue.
It felt as though his entire tongue were becoming numb.
Subsequently, his throat grew warm, and a burning sensation permeated his stomach.
The heat rapidly disseminated downwards.
His body responded instantaneously.
The rapidity of the reaction was astounding.
‘My nerves are going haywire.’
From the moment the pill dissolved, the nerves throughout his entire body reacted erratically.
His entire being felt as if it were adrift due to the overwhelming surge of dopamine. A baseless sense of elation washed over him, compelling him to laugh uncontrollably. 'This must be some kind of drug,' he thought. Yet, its potency was significantly diluted, preventing an immediate, strong addiction. To anyone else, it would likely feel like an extremely potent stimulant. Naturally, this did not diminish its inherently addictive nature. A single encounter would leave an individual yearning for more. The second time, they would seek something more intense. By the third, an even greater power would be desired. In this manner, they would descend deeper into dependence, eventually finding themselves trapped with no escape. The bartender smirked with cunning delight. Having administered the substance to Zeon, he was confident the young man would return. *Snap!* With a flick of his fingers, his gaze drifted toward the staircase leading to the upper floor. A woman, adorned with heavy makeup, emerged from the shadows above. "Molina!" "Yes, oppa!" the woman identified as Molina responded with a smile. The bartender gestured towards Zeon. "Grant this customer a taste of heaven tonight." "Hoho! I am the gatekeeper to paradise. Tonight, I shall throw open the gates wide for you." Molina’s smile turned even more alluring as she entwined her arm with Zeon’s. "Let's go, oppa!" "Yeah, let's go. Damn it all!" Zeon exclaimed with bold defiance as he rose to his feet. To refuse now, after ingesting the drug, would undoubtedly arouse suspicion. As Zeon ascended the stairs with the woman, the bartender mused to himself, "Another soul ensnared. There's no sweeter business than this. Heh-heh." In times past, he might have felt apprehension towards unfamiliar patrons. However, such caution was now unnecessary. Once they consumed the drug, they could never betray him. The initial experience was the most challenging, but after a single taste, they would invariably return, pleading for more. The bartender was utterly convinced that Zeon would never slip from his grasp. ＊＊＊ As they proceeded upstairs, the air filled with the echoes of moans emanating from every direction. There was no need for visual confirmation; the scene was abundantly clear. Molina opened a door. "This is the room, oppa!" A lingering warmth permeated the space, suggesting that something intimate had recently transpired. Despite a wave of nausea, Zeon entered the room. The instant the door clicked shut, Molina pressed herself against him. "Take off your clothes first, oppa!" "Wait a moment..." "Aren't you eager?" Her tone shifted, becoming frigid. She had detected an anomaly in Zeon's demeanor. Women who navigated such harsh realities often possessed remarkably sharp instincts. Molina, in particular, was exceptionally perceptive. She immediately discerned that Zeon was not a typical patron and grew guarded. "Tch." Zeon clicked his tongue, abandoning any pretense of compliance. At that precise moment, Molina attempted to cry out for the guards stationed outside. "Hey—!" But the words died on her lips. *Whoosh!* Flames erupted from Zeon's hand, silencing her before she could utter another sound. If she spoke again, those flames would consume her. "Damn it!" "You've made the correct decision." "What exactly are you?" "My identity is irrelevant. What truly matters is the nature of this establishment." "You scoundrel! What curiosity drove you to infiltrate this place?" "The substances you are peddling—who is your supplier?" "Substances? Don't be absurd. That's a stimulant. You ingested it yourself; don't you know?" "Precisely because I took it, I know even better." "So, are you here to eradicate drug trafficking out of some sense of righteousness?" Molina scoffed. Having spent a considerable time immersed in the unsavory world of the brothel, she was hardened. Intimidation was not easily achieved. Zeon regarded Molina, who glared defiantly at him, with a silent intensity. For a fleeting moment, she faltered. Her keen intuition registered a profound shift in his gaze. It was no longer the vacant look from before. Instead, it was sharp as a drawn blade, yet imbued with an immense, oppressive weight. "W-what?" she stammered, almost involuntarily. "Will you be alright?" "W-what do you mean by that?" "You won't be able to endure it." "What? Damn you!" "You will have to clench your teeth and persevere. It will be exceptionally agonizing." "What, are you planning to torture me?" "Indeed." "And you dare call yourself a man? Torturing a defenseless woman?" "Before being a woman, you are a drug dealer. I do not consider those who deal drugs to be human." The true horror of drugs lay in their destructive impact on all involved. Anyone who succumbed to their allure could never reclaim their former selves. Zeon held no regard for those who perpetuated such devastation, viewing them as less than human. "Damn you! Go ahead and try. Do you believe you'll emerge unscathed? You took the drug too. One dose is all it takes—you're finished. You'll be back on your knees within twenty-four hours, begging us for more. You'll regret this moment then, so you'd best release me now. Hohoho!" "You need not concern yourself with such trivialities." "Damn you! Don't do something you'll live to regret." "I will not regret it." "Hey—!" The instant Molina shrieked, Zeon seized her wrist. "Ah!" Her face instantly drained of color. A searing energy coursed into her through the point of contact, his grip. It was a technique that compressed the formidable power of flames into a thread-like form, injecting it directly into the opponent's body. Fire Wire. A skill conceived in emulation of Sand Wire. As the incandescent wire tore through her insides, Molina emitted a piercing scream. "Aaaagh!" Her cries echoed at maximum volume, yet no one outside could hear her. Zeon had erected a mana barrier, effectively muffling all sound. "The longer you resist, Molina, the more intense the torment will become." "P-please... I-I will talk!" She could not endure even thirty seconds. Regardless of her outward bravado, she was merely an ordinary woman, incapable of withstanding such extreme pain.Her tears flowed unchecked as she revealed every fragment of knowledge she possessed.