After Captain Crowley finished speaking, the Elias in his memory didn't show much surprise.
After all, John had already said he had a way before this.
If such a method truly existed, it couldn't possibly involve advancing to Scale Five.
This also indirectly confirmed that there was always more than one way to solve a problem besides brute force.
Of course, he couldn't rule out the possibility that the other party was lying.
Furthermore, thinking about it calmly, the matter itself felt somewhat absurd.
What exactly was a dream demon?
According to Old Edmond, these things were the lowest-level creatures in the spirit world—complete pushovers that were useless for anything except creating minor hallucinations.
Yet, how could the curse of such a creature be so ridiculous that it required a transcendent level of Scale Five to be completely cleared?
Was that reasonable?
It was simply mind-boggling.
Thinking of this, Elias's imagination began to run wild.
Speaking of which, did the dream demon have some kind of special pedigree in the spirit world?
A pedigree meant a background, a connection.
In his previous life, most of the demons in "Journey to the West" had pedigrees, which was why some didn't even give the Great Sage Equal to Heaven any face.
Those without a pedigree were just a matter of one swing of a staff.
In a place like the Kingdom of Velen, which was steeped in mysticism, could the dream demon be some kind of well-connected creature?
That would explain why its own strength was so pathetic, yet its secondary abilities were practically like cheating.
Of course, idle speculation was futile.
It was more important to get more useful information out of that old man, Crowley.
"So tell me, what should I do?"
The Elias in his memory put on a look of indignation, trying to use reverse psychology to goad the other party into revealing more.
To his surprise, the old man didn't fall for it at all.
Crowley tapped the residue from his pipe, looking at him with a half-smile.
"Once you bring the item back, I'll tell you what to do."
The old captain's tone was calm, leaving no room for negotiation.
"..."
Elias clenched his fists.
If he hadn't considered that the old man could probably crush his head in an instant, he really would have liked to plant a punch on that old face, which had more wrinkles than tree bark.
"Alright, since we have a deal, you should set off as soon as possible."
Crowley put away his pipe and clapped his hands.
"Don't forget to find the supervisor to collect your wages before you leave."
This was probably the only human thing the old fellow had said all day.
"Farewell, my friend."
As he spoke, Crowley turned and walked back onto the deck of the schooner, even waving to Elias with a bit of flair.
"Hey! Whitebeard! If I want to process some transcendent materials, where should I go?"
Standing on the ship as it drifted away, Captain Crowley called out loudly, "Go to the Unicorn Souvenir Shop! Mention my name for a twenty percent discount!"
"Thanks!"
Following the instructions, Elias went to the harbor affairs office to find the supervisor responsible for issuing wages.
The harbor supervisor was a thin man around fifty years old, wearing extremely thick, round tortoiseshell glasses. Years of desk work had given him a slight hunch.
The moment the supervisor looked up and saw Elias standing outside the door, the quill in his hand dropped onto the desk.
His eyes, which weren't very large to begin with, widened to their absolute limit in that instant.
However... their maximum wasn't actually that large.
The movement of his eyelids was so limited that Elias, standing outside the window, didn't even realize the man was in a state of extreme shock.
He knocked on the window for a long time.
The supervisor just stared at him blankly, motionless.
Elias had thought the man had fallen asleep while standing.
He even muttered in confusion, "Is he that tired?"
"Look at how exhausted this old guy is."
It wasn't until Old Edmond reminded him in his head that Elias realized what was happening.
The man wasn't sleepy; he was shocked that this expendable laborer, who should have been a corpse a month ago, had returned in one piece to collect his wages.
Under the supervisor's gaze, which looked at him as if he were a monster, Elias successfully received his wages for the last month and a half.
36 gold crowns!
Since the advance he received earlier had already been sent home, he could spend this money freely.
This was a huge sum of money.
The original owner of the body had never seen so much money in his life.
With the transaction settled, he headed straight for the Hastings Port train station, preparing to buy a ticket back to Hope County.
However, reality gave him a resounding slap in the face.
The train station was packed with people, and the ticket counter had a long line.
After asking around, he learned that because the Spark Festival was approaching, the train tickets for the next few days had already sold out.
"Is there really a holiday rush here too?!"
Looking at the surging crowd, Elias couldn't help but complain.
Hearing this term in his mind, Old Edmond paused for a moment and gave a rare compliment:
"Holiday rush... a rush of transport running for the holidays? That sounds quite descriptive."
After some trouble, Elias eventually bought a returned ticket from the ticket agent at the station.
It was a ticket for tomorrow afternoon.
It cost 52 Fenny.
It wasn't expensive.
Fenny was the smallest unit of currency in the Kingdom of Velen.
The currency conversion here gave Elias, who was used to the decimal system, an extreme headache.
200 Fenny = 20 Shillings, and 20 Shillings = 1 Soren.
Soren, or what was commonly called a gold crown in daily speech.
This kind of conversion method, full of ancient aristocratic flair and zero convenience, was practically anti-human.
However, considering he now had a significant sum of money in his pocket, this mathematical inconvenience was a happy sort of trouble.
After buying the ticket, it was already evening.
Since he couldn't leave yet, Elias found a decent hotel in Hastings Port.
The Bay Hotel. He planned to stay there for the night, take a hot bath, and wash away the gloom from his body.
Of course, before that, he visited the Unicorn Souvenir Shop.
The shop wasn't large and was tucked away in a dark alley in the lower district of Hastings Port.
A small pink lamp was lit in front of the door; if one didn't know better, they might think it was some kind of illicit establishment.
Elias pushed the door open and entered. In the small shop, he saw souvenirs like crystal balls and puppets.
The scent of paper, ink, and wood filled the air.
When Elias mentioned that Captain Crowley had sent him, the young shop assistant gave him a strange look and led him to a hidden door behind the counter.
The stairs led directly underground, and as expected, there was more than met the eye.
The underground space was much more spacious. Unlike the cramped shop upstairs, it was about the size of a two-bedroom apartment.
Just as he reached the bottom of the stairs, a sturdy old man with a large red beard and a pair of goggles stepped out from one of the rooms.
"That old bastard Crowley sent you?"
The man spoke with a Northern Velen accent.
"Yes."
Elias nodded, then watched as the old man reached out his hand.
"Did you bring the money?"
"?"
At that point, Elias realized he had been tricked by that old man again.
"What money?"
"Don't play dumb!"
The red-bearded man said.
"He bought things on credit last time and said he'd pay another day. If you're not here to pay the debt, what are you here for?"
Damn it!
What twenty percent discount?
The old sea dog just wanted him to help pay off his debt!
Elias cursed inwardly and could only brace himself to say, "I'm not here to pay his debt."
He had no intention of paying for someone else; the money in his hand hadn't even warmed up yet.
Then, he suddenly became agitated, his acting skills reaching their peak at that moment.
His expression became distorted.
"That old man lied to me, saying you could process transcendent materials here. Who knew he just wanted me to help him pay his debt!"
"That damned old bastard!"
"It seems you can't process transcendent materials here either! I'm leaving!"
As he spoke, he made a move to leave.
The red-bearded man just watched his performance quietly.
"Wait!"
"You're not allowed to leave!"
The red-bearded man stepped closer to Elias, making him feel a sudden surge of pressure.
"I can indeed process transcendent materials here, but you..."
"Either pay off that old man's debt."
"Or, buy something before you go!"
Wasn't this a forced sale?
How were all of that old sea dog's friends just like him?
But this was actually easy to handle.
Elias feigned a look of reluctance.
"Fine, then help me process two items."
As he spoke, he pulled two pieces of carapace husk from the bag he was carrying.
When the two items were taken out, the people in the room were stunned.
The red-bearded man and the shop assistant were surprised by the luster of the shells, which were white with a hint of dull green, gleaming eerily under the dim gaslight.
To think that low-level transcendent materials could show such high quality.
Elias and Old Edmond were surprised because the weight, texture, and color of the shells in his hand had completely changed.
Before, the shells were just a pale color, nothing like their current appearance.
In terms of weight, the original shells were very light and the texture was hard.
Now, the shells had become heavier, and the texture—while still hard—felt much sturdier to Elias.
"What's going on?!"
In his mind, it was actually Old Edmond who was the first to ask.
"Aren't you a senior Firebearer? How do you not know what's going on?"
Elias's question made Old Edmond stutter for a long time without giving a clear answer. Eventually, the two decided to check the other two pieces of shoulder armor back at the lighthouse to see if they had undergone the same change.
Those two pieces were stored in Old Edmond's basement. When Elias left, he had covered them with supply crates and used his spirituality to seal the trapdoor.
He wasn't worried about poor Jack messing with them.
The red-bearded man was quite happy to take the two materials. He asked for Elias's requirements and cheerfully requested a deposit of 2 Soren.
They agreed that he would come to pick them up tomorrow morning.
This led Elias to repeatedly emphasize that his budget was limited, fearing that this old man was as cunning as Whitebeard and would leave him unable to pay when the time came.
Returning to the brightly lit restaurant of the hotel, Elias indulged in a rare luxury: a hearty dinner.
The long-awaited pan-seared steak and hot soup finally brought his stomach back to life after it had been ravaged by salted fish and hard biscuits for a month.
However, the gears of fate began to turn right after this dinner.
As he was leaving the restaurant, he brushed past an ordinary-looking man in the lobby corridor.
It was that mystic.
At the moment they crossed paths, a faint, sweet fragrance drifted into his nostrils.
A moment later, the effects of the dream lotus powder took hold, coinciding perfectly with the periodic activation of the dream demon curse lurking in his body.
The two combined to create an extremely violent chemical reaction.
Elias's consciousness was instantly stripped away.
Amidst Old Edmond's urgent questions, shouts, and even insults, Elias's body became completely uncontrollable.
Like a drunk who had had too much, his eyes went blank, and he walked out of the Bay Hotel with unsteady steps, crossing the deserted streets until he reached the most desolate beach in Hastings Port.
The events that followed occurred exactly as remembered.
The dark figures, the siren, the mystic, the slaughter, the rotten flesh...
The fragments of memory were now completely pieced together.
"Whew..."
In the lobby, Elias let out a deep breath, shaking the rainwater from his clothes.
Although he had spent quite a while recalling the cause and effect, for the Elias standing in the lobby, it had only been a momentary flow of thoughts.
The dizziness in his head had completely vanished.
He felt the key he had looted from the mystic-chan and said decisively to Old Edmond:
"No way!"
"I must go to that damn scumbag-chan's room immediately!"
"And collect my compensation for mental distress!"
Rate on N.U.
