Chapter 18: The Black Market King
The Stellaris Academy, massive as it was, represented only a microscopic speck of dust in the grand scheme of the cosmos.
I sat on the balcony of Villa Number 1, looking up at the night sky. To a normal student, the stars were just pretty lights. To me, they were a map of my enemies.
"Ria," I said, swirling a glass of wine. "Do you know where we are?"
Ria stepped out of the shadows, holding a ledger. "We are in the Stellaris Academy, Capital of the Azure Empire, Planet Aerthos."
"Correct," I nodded. "But in the hierarchy of the Multiverse, Planet Aerthos is a Low-Level World."
I gestured to the stars.
"The Arbiters—those faceless cowards—organized the universe into a strict caste system to maintain control. It's a pyramid of power."
"At the bottom are the Lowest-Level Worlds," I lectured, mostly to remind myself of the cage I was currently in. "Mortal worlds. No Qi. No magic. Just short lives and meaningless deaths."
"Then, there is us. The Low-Level Worlds. Here, the laws of physics are loose enough to allow cultivation, but the ceiling is low. The absolute limit here is the Emperor Realm. If anyone breaks through to become a Demigod, the world rejects them, and they are forced to ascend."
Ria listened intently, her processor recording every word. "And above?"
"The Middle-Level Worlds," I continued, my eyes narrowing. "That is our next destination. The limit there is Demigod. Then come the High-Level Worlds, where True Gods walk the earth."
I pointed to four distinct, ultra-bright stars forming a square in the distant galaxy.
"And at the apex... are the Four Supreme Worlds. They are ruled by God Kings. And from those four worlds, one being is chosen to sit on the Universal Throne as the God Emperor. He is the supreme dictator of our reality, the direct subordinate of the Arbiters."
I crushed the wine glass in my hand. The glass turned to dust.
"In my 9th Life, I killed the previous God Emperor. I assume they have appointed a new puppet by now."
"Master," Ria interrupted, handing me a napkin to wipe the wine from my hand. "While your lecture on cosmic sociology is fascinating, our immediate problem is much more local. We are broke."
I sighed. "Right. Economics."
"We have 10 High-Grade Fire Pills produced from your... kitchen experiment," Ria noted. "And zero Spirit Stones. If we want to upgrade my chassis to handle your Sword Emperor techniques, we need funds. Also, the Young Miss has eaten the last of the snacks."
I looked inside the villa. Anya was currently trying to chew on a table leg because she was hungry again.
"Fine," I stood up. "Let's go to the Shadow Bazaar. It's time to educate the local mafia on the principles of free trade."
The Shadow Bazaar.
Every Academy has a dark side. At Stellaris, it was an underground network of tunnels beneath the combat arena, where students traded contraband, information, and forbidden items.
The air here smelled of incense and greed. Students walked around in hooded cloaks, concealing their identities.
I walked in wearing a simple black mask, with Ria (also masked) carrying a small wooden sign. We found an empty stone table in a high-traffic corner.
Ria slammed the sign onto the table.
[PREMIUM FIRE PILLS. 90% PURITY. NO TRASH. 300 STONES EACH.]
Within minutes, a crowd gathered.
"90% purity? Is he joking?"
"Even the Alchemy Elders can only reach 80% consistently!"
"Who is this guy? A senior?"
A curious student from the Fire Sect approached. "I'll test one. If it's fake, I'll burn your stall down."
I tossed him a pill.
He examined it. He sniffed it. He swallowed it.
Three seconds later, his face flushed red. Steam shot out of his ears. He let out a moan of pure ecstasy as his bottleneck loosened.
"Real!" the student shouted, his eyes wide. "It's real! My Qi... it increased by a month's worth of cultivation in seconds! I'll take three!"
"Me too!"
"I'll pay 350!"
Chaos erupted. In ten minutes, I had sold all ten pills. Three thousand Spirit Stones clinked in my pouch. It was easy money. Too easy.
"Hold it."
The crowd parted. A group of five students walked up. They wore golden armbands depicting a roaring lion. The Golden Lion Faction.
The leader was a tall, muscular young man with a scar on his chin. He radiated the aura of a 2nd Year Core Formation expert. This was Tyrion, the cousin of Prince Valerian and the infamous enforcer of the black market.
Tyrion looked at my empty table, then at my heavy pouch of stones.
"You're new," Tyrion grunted, crossing his massive arms. "You didn't register with the Faction. You didn't pay the rent. And you definitely didn't pay the Tax."
"Tax?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
"50%," Tyrion smirked. "This is Golden Lion territory. You made 3,000 stones? Hand over 1,500. And since you didn't register, add another 500 as a late fee."
The students around us backed away. Nobody messed with Tyrion. He was known for breaking limbs in 'sparring matches.'
I looked at Ria. "Ria, what is the Academy policy on extortion?"
"Violation of Rule 12," Ria recited coolly. "However, the Shadow Bazaar operates outside official jurisdiction. Jungle Law applies: The strong take from the weak."
"Jungle Law," I nodded. "I like that law."
I looked at Tyrion. "I decline. Now move. You're blocking my view of the exit."
Tyrion's face darkened. He drew a heavy broadsword from his back. "You have guts, freshman. I'm going to break your legs. Consider it a lesson in respect."
He swung. The sword howled with wind energy, aiming for my knees. It was a vicious strike, meant to cripple.
I didn't move. I picked up a cup of tea I had brought with me and took a sip.
"Ria," I murmured. "Cleaning protocols."
"Acknowledged."
Ria moved.
She didn't draw a weapon. She stepped inside Tyrion's guard.
Her silver hand shot out and caught the blade of the broadsword.
CLANG.
Tyrion's eyes bulged. He tried to push the sword down, but Ria's arm was immovable, like a pillar of heaven. She held the blade with her bare fingers.
"Contaminant detected," Ria said, her voice devoid of emotion. "Initiating scrub cycle."
She twisted her wrist.
SNAP.
The high-grade steel sword shattered.
Before Tyrion could react, Ria grabbed him by the collar of his robes. She lifted him—a 200-pound man—into the air with one hand.
Then, she slammed him down.
BOOM.
The stone floor cracked. Tyrion coughed blood. But Ria wasn't done.
"Floor is dirty," she stated.
She dragged him by his face across the rough stone floor.
Scrub. Scrub. Scrub.
"AHHH! MY FACE!" Tyrion screamed.
She used him like a mop. She dragged him ten feet to the left, then ten feet to the right, effectively polishing the floor with his expensive golden robes.
Finally, she tossed him into a pile of trash cans.
Tyrion lay there, his face swollen, his spirit broken. His lackeys were trembling, staring at the silver-haired maid who hadn't even wrinkled her uniform.
"Spotless," Ria declared, dusting off her hands.
I stood up, finishing my tea. I walked over to the groaning Tyrion.
"You mentioned a tax," I said, crouching down. "I think you're right. A tax is necessary."
I reached into Tyrion's spatial ring (which I forcibly removed from his finger) and dumped the contents. Piles of Spirit Stones, artifacts, and pills fell out.
"I am implementing a new tax," I announced to the terrified crowd. "From now on, the Golden Lion Faction pays me 50% of their earnings. If they are late..."
I pointed to Ria.
"...the maid gets to clean again."
The crowd stared at me in horror. I had just robbed the strongest faction in the school.
Suddenly, a pressure descended on the Bazaar. It wasn't a student. It wasn't a teacher.
It felt like the earth itself was watching me.
I looked up at the ceiling of the cavern. My Void Sense pierced through the rock, looking at the sky above the Academy.
'I feel it,' I thought. 'The gaze.'
"Master?" Ria whispered, sensing my tension.
"We attracted attention," I whispered back. "Not from the teachers. From the Throne."
"The Throne?"
"Every world has a will," I explained quickly as we walked toward the exit. "And every world chooses a guardian to sit on its Throne. This being is the absolute strongest entity allowed by the laws of that world. They are charged with protecting the planet from external threats—like demons, or void monsters... or reincarnators like me."
"The Guardian of this Low-Level World..." Ria processed the data. "Is it Headmaster Altair?"
"No," I shook my head. "Altair is strong, but he is an Emperor. The Guardian of this world would be at the absolute limit—a Half-Step Demigod. They usually sleep in the core of the planet, only waking up when the balance is tipped."
I looked at my hand. The power I had used to refine the Perfect Pills, and the chaotic energy Anya released... it had poked the sleeping bear.
"We need to leave this world soon," I muttered. "This pond is too small for a Dragon and a Phoenix. If we stay too long, the Guardian will try to suppress us to 'save' the world."
"How do we leave?"
"The Inter-World Examination," I said, a grin forming on my face. "It happens once every ten years. The Arbiters open a portal to allow geniuses from Low-Level Worlds to ascend to a Middle-Level World Academy. It's a tournament."
I tossed the bag of stolen Spirit Stones in my hand.
"And to enter that tournament, we need to dominate this Academy first."
I looked back at the battered Golden Lion members.
"Tell Prince Valerian," I called out, "that the Black Market now belongs to the Dining Hall Faction. And tell him to prepare for the Arena. I want his villa, too."
We walked into the shadows, leaving behind a legend that would spread by morning. The Sleeping Dragon wasn't just waking up; he was taking over the business.