Due to the state of the black market currently, Ilya had to think of countermeasures.
For now, the place operated in fragments.
Temporary formations were set up here and there, crude but still somewhat functional, creating small pockets where trade could continue.
At the very least, the transactions here could still operate normally.
Stalls appeared in scattered clusters, dealing in items that weren't meant for open markets, dangerous tools, rare materials, things that carried more risk than value in the wrong hands.
Everything was quieter compared to before but not inactive.
As for the guards, they were there, but as vague as one could see.
Ilya had already made her stance clear. Unless it involved the Pavilion's interest, they were to turn a blind eye to whatever happened here.
After all, the black market had its uses.
Certain items, certain dealings, things that couldn't be obtained through proper means still flowed through this place.
Keeping it alive, even in this damaged state, meant keeping those channels open.
Where do you think Liam gained those materials to make his puppets? Everything through the open channel?
Wrong, Ilya had to take some dangerous measures sometimes.
To her, there was no need to label it immoral, evil.
Those words held little meaning in this world.
In this world, it was profit and benefit that shaped decisions, and ultimately, strength that determined what was right.
With Liam standing behind her, there was nothing she needed to fear.
Amid the subdued movement of the crowd, low murmurs began to spread.
Near a half-repaired stall, a few cloaked figures stood together, their voices kept just above a whisper.
"Have you heard?" one of them said, leaning slightly closer to the others. "That battle before… it was between two Foundation Building Seniors."
The person beside him let out a quiet scoff. "Heard? I was there."
His hand tightened slightly around the edge of his cloak, as if recalling something unpleasant.
"It was chaos. The aftermath alone took people out. Some didn't even know what hit them."
"Hell, I was simply trying to sell some of my Scorpion spiritual jar. Never thought a hurricane would blow my way."
Another figure shifted his weight, glancing briefly toward the deeper part of the black market before speaking. "The last attack… that was the worst of it."
He paused, as if choosing his words.
"The center area was wiped clean. Nothing left. And even now, you can still feel it, there's aura lingering there that hasn't faded."
"It's a sword intent… extremely pure at that."
A brief silence followed.
Then someone exhaled softly.
"…This city's changing."
"Of course it is," another replied, tone dry. "More people are coming. Not just anyone, strong ones too. Alas, we bottom fodder will have a hard time surviving in the future."
He tilted his head slightly, eyes hidden beneath his hood.
"Where there's opportunity, there's always someone chasing it."
At the edge of the group, one of them muttered under his breath, sounding slightly frustrated. "Trouble for us, though. Harder to move goods these days."
Another turned toward him, amused. "What are you selling now?"
A short pause.
"…Dolls."
The word hung there for a second. Everyone became quiet next.
Then a low chuckle followed.
"Ah… so you're that kind of person."
The man didn't respond, only adjusting his cloak slightly as the conversation faded back into the quiet hum of the black market's outer edge.
"It's called aesthetic dolls for male monks."
"Yeah sure, keep a meter distance away from me."
Time passed once more.
The changes within the dungeon didn't go unnoticed by Lucien.
At first, it was subtle, the ceiling felt higher, the air less confined, but as he spent more time moving through the dungeon, the difference became clearer right away.
The space had expanded, the layout stretched further than before, yet everything still retained that same underlying structure.
He slowed his steps slightly, his gaze sweeping across the surroundings as he compared it to his earlier memories.
"…It changed."
The thought settled naturally.
It wasn't random.
There had to be a reason.
After some time, a theory formed in his mind.
The dungeon… might be evolving. Not on its own, but in response to something external, perhaps the number of people entering it, or the activity within.
The closest link could be the increase in card holder numbers.
If that was the case,
Then its growth wasn't fixed.
It could continue.
That realization made him pause.
And unexpectedly, it brought a faint trace of regret.
"…Hmph."
He let out a quiet breath.
If he had succeeded in killing Hero back then, it might have limited the pace of this place's change.
Whether Hero played a direct role or not, removing variables this early would have been… inefficient.
He didn't like inefficiency.
From time to time, their paths crossed within the dungeon.
There were no greetings.
No words.
Just a brief glance.
Eyes meeting for a moment, acknowledging the other's presence, before both turned away and continued on their own paths.
Lucien moved methodically, hunting for efficiency, for growth, for measurable progress.
He wasn't one to take risks unnecessarily.
Hero, on the other hand, moved more freely, charging forward without a fixed route, yet somehow circling back within the same general area as if guided by instinct.
Like a complete fool. Even the old man inside him had been cursing him for a while because of that.
Two different approaches.
Neither interfering with the other.
And so far,
Neither of them had encountered the boss.
At least, not yet.
Another month passed.
The earlier turmoil gradually settled, and life within the city returned to a more stable rhythm.
The chaos from before no longer lingered as strongly, replaced instead by a steady flow of activity.
But outside,
Nothing had changed.
The sky remained dyed in red, the air thick with the same oppressive presence.
From beyond the city walls, distant roars of monsters echoed from time to time, low and continuous.
Occasionally, faint ripples would appear along the city's formation barrier.
If one looked closely, they would see it, dense clusters of flying creatures striking against the invisible wall.
Their forms were strange, their movements erratic, but their strength remained within the Qi Refining realm.
Not enough to pose a real threat.
High above, guards stood calmly in the air, their cloaked figures unmoving except for the occasional lift of a hand.
A simple gesture was enough, spells released without flourish, wiping out the approaching creatures before they could gather momentum.
Routine.
Almost effortless.
To the city, these were nothing more than minor disturbances.
At least for now.
Ilya, observing everything from within, couldn't help but feel that this place had been unusually fortunate.
Compared to other cities, their situation was far more stable.
No Foundation Building monsters had appeared at their gates.
No overwhelming siege.
While elsewhere, some cities had already fallen, swallowed by the tide without resistance.
Here,
Things held.
Tonight, however, something different was set to happen.
For the first time since their encounter, Hero and Lucien agreed to meet.
The decision came from Lucien.
Not out of goodwill, nor any intention of forming an alliance, but from necessity.
The dungeon held too many unknown secrets, and understanding it more deeply would only benefit him.
Sharing information was efficient.
Hero accepted.
Not without caution, but without refusal either.
And beyond that…
Lucien had something else in mind.