Black Market White Market?

Black Path White Path?

Even naming conventions follow trends here.

Li Ban was quite looking forward to their destination.

Black Market White Market sounded like a large department store with comprehensive merchandise. He wondered if anyone sold elemental materials there.

Though currently penniless, that didn't stop Li Ban from making plans for the future.

The old horse pulled the carriage at a decent pace.

The tree-person jailers paid no attention to the horse, their eyes closed as if in meditation.

Li Ban looked around intently, memorizing the route from Death Prison to Black Market White Market.

The town walls stood ten meters tall.

Dark gray and imposing, soldiers patrolled both atop and below the walls.

There was one main gate and one small gate.

Commoners in simple clothes queued to enter through the small gate.

Some bypassed the line entirely, carrying shoulder poles or pushing carts while hawking goods at the gate.

Compared to Death Prison, this place brimmed with rustic, ancient vitality.

The people here looked ordinary, but they recoiled in fear upon seeing Tree-Person A, keeping their distance.

Just as Li Ban was about to ask if they should queue, the old horse turned its head toward the main gate.

Two soldiers spotted the tree-person jailers and hurried to push open half the gate.

No questions, no inspections - straight passage granted.

Passing swiftly through the gate, Li Ban glanced back to see the soldiers still watching Tree-Person A warily.

Turning forward, Li Ban realized something:

Though he was just a precarious slave in Death Prison, the prison itself held significant social standing in this world.

Could the lab's purpose for infiltrating Death Prison relate to its extraordinary status?

Status influencers were either powerful figures or resource controllers.

To escape the Witch World sooner, Li Ban racked his brains.

Beyond the gate, after several streets, they reached a peculiar avenue.

Better maintained than the gate area, its roads were paved with bluestone bricks.

Buildings here mixed brick and wood construction, unlike the earthen houses near the gate.

The locals here were bolder too.

While people near the gate had panicked at the sight of tree-person jailers, these merely kept their distance.

Yet none showed Li Ban's level of shock upon seeing them - fear mixed with familiarity.

Further down the road, strange figures resembling the tree-person jailers appeared.

Some had horns, others were scaled, and a few like Tree-Person A barely looked human.

Reactions here varied:

Some wary, some dismissive, some indifferent.

Upon entering this street, the old horse snorted as if giving notice, and Tree-Person A opened his eyes to watch the road.

Soon they reached a bustling alley marked by an arched signboard:

"Black Market White Market" in bold characters.

The old horse entered the alley at reduced speed.

Though not overcrowded, most here carried blades and wore cold expressions, looking ready for violence at any moment.

Li Ban curled up nervously, hoping to escape notice.

The carriage first stopped before Fortune Grain Shop.

A clerk spotted Tree-Person A and immediately bowed obsequiously:

"Honorable A has arrived! Your goods are prepared, just needing loading. Would the master care for refreshments inside?"

Tree-Person A extended his limbs, roughly resuming human form.

He alighted lightly and instructed the bewildered Li Ban:

"Watch carefully: ten white grain bags, five black, one red."

Li Ban nodded hastily: "Yes, master."

After giving orders, Tree-Person A followed the clerk to a back room, leaving Li Ban to supervise.

Two laborers did the hauling - lean but muscular men who worked tirelessly with half-person-high sacks.

When their eyes met Li Ban's, their gazes held fearful deference.

Then Li Ban saw it:

The raised scar forming the character for "slave" on their right cheeks.

He inhaled sharply, his own cheek tingling unnaturally.

These weren't just laborers.

They were the shop's slaves.

Did the grain shop's owners possess "Identity"?

Or was slavery rampant here?

Looking around, Li Ban saw other open shops but no more branded faces.

"Master, all loaded. Please verify," said the clerk, reappearing with a smile after the slaves finished.

"I'm not a master," Li Ban murmured quietly.

Though the title felt good, angering Tree-Person A wasn't worth it.

"For humble ones like me, all are masters," the clerk whispered, not daring to repeat the address.

Li Ban meticulously checked each bag for damage and secure ties before nodding: "Complete."

The clerk bowed again and fetched Tree-Person A from the back.

Returning, the tree-person jailer was tucking a bronze token into his bark crevices.

Without a glance at Li Ban, as if trusting him completely, Tree-Person A boarded the carriage.

Li Ban scrambled after.

"To the slave market," Tree-Person A commanded.

The waiting horse moved forward obediently.

At the market's end stood the slave grounds - a massive shed incongruous among the brick buildings yet bustling with activity.

Li Ban heard haggling before seeing the place:

"These two are prime stock - clean with good teeth. Five hundred coins, and I'll throw in a small one."

"What would I do with a small one? Knock off fifty coins and we have a deal."

Looking over, Li Ban saw two brawny men negotiating.

The merchandise? Two women in sack-like rags, watching the buyers with desperate hope - more eager than the sellers themselves.

Li Ban tightened his collar, feeling inexplicably cold under the blazing sun.

Averting his gaze, he suddenly spotted a familiar face:

Uncle Ma, who'd sold him to Death Prison!

As Li Ban looked, Uncle Ma seemed to sense it, turning with a stalk of grass in his teeth.

Recognizing the troublesome slave, he actually smiled.

Emerging from the shed, Uncle Ma ignored Li Ban entirely, instead bowing obsequiously to Tree-Person A:

"Honorable jailer! Here to buy slaves? How many this time?"

Tree-Person A's manner changed slightly:

"Two."

He glanced at Li Ban.

"And one spare."