Warlock Apprentice

Chapter 1043: Section 1044: The Aggrieved Pulapa  

Inside the wooden hut, it was exactly as Pulapa had imagined: cramped and confined.

Moreover, the entire hut contained nothing but a round table in the middle and several stools.

Sitting opposite at the round table was a race Pulapa had never thought to see in Lassudral – an Abyssal native.

That frail shell, a figure thin as a sheet of paper, and those pitch-black eyes without the distinction of whites and pupils.

All unmistakably indicated that the man before him belonged to the Abyssal natives.

How could an Abyssal native brazenly appear in Lassudral?! Pulapa couldn’t believe his own eyes.

Although Lassudral had never forbidden the arrival of the indigenous people, similarly, it had never forbidden humans from coming. But would humans dare to come?

By the same token, for an indigenous person to come here was like a tender lamb walking into a pack of wolves.

“You… you are an indigenous person?” Pulapa asked, trembling as he pointed at the young man across the round table.

The young man smiled and nodded, then gestured towards a stool and said, “Have a seat. Today is the grand opening of my shop, and you are my first customer. I can give you a discount, you know.”

The young man seemed completely oblivious to Pulapa’s shock and kept on introducing the specialties of his shop.

Unfortunately, the Abyss Language he spoke was so awkward, on the same level as the graffiti-like Abyss script outside, that Pulapa had almost failed to understand what he was saying.

Pulapa couldn’t help but interrupt and said, “Why would an indigenous person come to Lassudral to open a shop? Aren’t you afraid of trouble?”

The gaze of the young man across from him paused. “What trouble are you referring to? That one?”

The young man pointed outside the window behind him. Pulapa stretched his head to look and saw several half-blood demons lying in the woods, all covered in scars, including a small demon. They all were motionless, seemingly unconscious?

How could this be possible? These demons had all been dealt with?

Pulapa shuddered, looking at the young shopkeeper across the round table with a bit more respect. The small demon was no ordinary creature, not a trivial UFO demon. If this shopkeeper could take it down, he could take down a hundred like Pulapa.

Having such formidable power, no wonder he dared to venture alone into Lassudral and even opened an inexplicable shop.

At this moment, the young shopkeeper just shrugged his shoulders and said, “I think you may have misunderstood. I couldn’t deal with those troubles.”

No sooner had he spoken than a sneer came from outside the window behind him. “Not one of them put up a decent fight, didn’t even get to warm up, such a letdown,” said the voice outside.

Pulapa immediately looked out and saw a tall woman with dark skin, dressed in an incredibly hot outfit, casually tossing a small demon into the forest, then strolling up to the window and leaning on the windowsill to look inside.

Scanning with her fierce and chilling red and green eyes, Pulapa felt as if it were being targetted by a powerful predator starting from the base of its tail, the chill crawling up its spine to the top of its head.

Pulapa froze, the only thought in its mind being a single word, “So strong!”

Merely a glance and it felt its scalp tingle. Such strength suggested that the woman was at least of Intermediate Rank Demon or higher — unquestionably an opponent not to be provoked! No wonder those small and half-blood demons stood no chance!

“Hey, is this little one also here to cause trouble?” The dark-skinned woman asked, pointing a finger at Pulapa.

Before the young shopkeeper could reply, Pulapa quickly waved its hands, “Not at all, I’m just an ordinary customer.”

At that moment, a glint appeared in the young shopkeeper’s eyes as he spoke softly, “Doesn’t look like a troublemaker, but he entered the shop and didn’t buy anything—it’s still somewhat suspicious.”

Pulapa, not waiting for the dark-skinned woman to react, quickly shouted, “Shopkeeper, I’m here to spend money! The reason I haven’t bought anything is that you said a lot just now and it was too vague—I didn’t understand. Could you explain it again?”

The young man smiled cheerily and said, “Our service here lets you experience the rhythms of the ocean.”

“Just that one?” Pulapa listened clearly this time, yet it asked uncertainly, “But didn’t I also hear something else just now?”

“You heard wrong, it’s just this one.”

“Alright then, could you elaborate on what this experience is specifically about? And how much does it cost?”

Pulapa asked just as the dark-skinned woman perched at the window finally stopped staring and settled for a somersault onto the sill, relishing the fresh breeze of the woods, closing her eyes as if to rest.

“Experiencing the rhythm of the ocean is exactly what it sounds like. As for the price, well, since it’s the grand opening, I’ll give you a discount, just 100 Demon Gold Coins,” the young man said with the air of doing Pulapa a great favor.

Pulapa dug at its ear, completely incredulous at the price it had heard.

“Could you repeat that, shopkeeper? What’s the price?”

“100 Demon Gold Coins,” said the young man before muttering under his breath, “Did I set it too cheap?”

Pulapa was thunderstruck, blurting out its inner thought, “100 Demon Gold Coins? Are you robbing me?”

“Robbery? Hmm?” The youth’s voice suddenly dropped, and his gaze shifted toward Pulapa with a hint of darkness.

At the same time, the dark-skinned woman sitting on the windowsill suddenly opened her eyes, throwing a cold glance at Pulapa that sent a chill down his spine.

Save me, store owner, they’re not really running a shop, they’re outright bullying and robbing, forcing a sale on me!

The woman’s look clearly said: Dare not to buy, and you’ll end up like the others outside.

Pulapa gulped, feeling incredibly wronged at the moment. Originally, upon seeing the sign written in Abyss language, it had felt a sense of kinship. After entering the store and seeing an Indigenous People shopkeeper, it felt surprised but also very touched; after all, its mother was an Indigenous People, and though it didn’t know which tribe the young shopkeeper belonged to, it felt inexplicably close to him.

But this Indigenous People turned out to be a white-on-the-outside, black-on-the-inside greedy creature, and this “bewitching” little shop was a black-hearted shop through and through!

Beneath the shopkeeper’s raised eyebrows and the woman’s threatening gaze, Pulapa, feeling bullied… burst into tears.

Since the death of his parents, this was the first time he felt so aggrieved that the tears welled up in his eyes and blue teardrops fell.

As soon as a teardrop touched the ground, it turned into a little crystal blue bead.

“That is the essence of the Water System of a Half-Blood Demon, which can keep meat products fresh,” a cold female voice declared.

The young shopkeeper was momentarily dazed, and somehow produced a plate, placing it in front of Pulapa with an air that seemed to say, weep all you like, but don’t waste it.

Pulapa’s chest tightened, and he found it hard to cry anymore.

It was only then that the young shopkeeper asked, “Why are you crying?”

Perhaps feeling embarrassed, Pulapa voiced his grievance, “Your prices are too high, I simply can’t afford it.”

“Are the prices I set very high?” The young shopkeeper questioned, looking at the woman behind him with a puzzled expression.

The woman, eyes closed again, coldly said, “It finds it expensive simply because it’s poor. Also, don’t bother me with this kind of thing in the future.”

Pulapa, labeled as “poor,” felt aggrieved but also came to accept it. He pulled out his small purse and overturned it on the table—

Clang, clang, clang, a few scattered Demon Gold Coins tumbled onto the round table.

“This is all I have,” he said, as he took two of the most worn Gold Coins from his ears, “These two were left to me by my parents, so I have at most ten Gold Coins.”

Pulapa had resigned himself to the likelihood that he wouldn’t leave here without being skinned today.

After all, it was as if he’d worked in vain for the past few months. But, in the face of overwhelming power, especially that dark-skinned woman whose glare alone seemed capable of killing him, losing some Demon Gold Coins, in the end, was really quite lucky.

“Well, it seems you really are poor,” the young shopkeeper remarked after a pause, tapping his fingers on the tabletop, as if pondering something. After a while, he said, “Let’s do this, considering you’re the first customer since I opened, I’ll give you a first customer discount. How about eight Demon Gold Coins?”

What could Pulapa say? The other party was asking for eight Demon Gold Coins, probably because he had mentioned those were his parents’ keepsakes, prompting a mercy from the shopkeeper… Huh? The shopkeeper actually had compassion? So, if he kept up the act a bit more, could he leave without buying anything?

With this thought, Pulapa decided to give it a try.

“Actually, I earn money to seek revenge for my parents, but I’m too weak, and the training methods for a Half-Blood Demon aren’t great, so I thought to work hard and save money to buy…” Pulapa made his experience sound as pitiable as possible.

However, he noticed that the young man across from him seemed unmoved, still smiling.

Isn’t my story pitiful enough?

“So you’re earning money to improve your strength in the hopes of avenging your parents?” the youth said thoughtfully: “That’s perfect, you’re of the Water System. Experiencing the ocean’s rhythm would be beneficial to your strength.”

Whilst speaking, the young shopkeeper collected the eight Demon Gold Coins from the table, purposely leaving the two “keepsakes” there.

“How about it? When do you want to start your experiential journey?”

There was a moment of stiffness in Pulapa’s expression, it seemed the shopkeeper’s compassion had run out… which made sense. Even Indigenous People, after having lived in the Abyss for a while, would understand how cunning Demons could be. They always took advantage of any gap they found, just as he had done before. Since arriving in Lassudral, he had slowly been changing, becoming less like himself.

Pulapa sighed, knowing he had no choice but to soldier on.

Eight Gold Coins were not too many, just a few months’ earnings. From another perspective, spending just eight Demon Gold Coins to save his skin in front of an Intermediate Rank Demon was already quite a bargain.

He’d play the sucker this time and see how luxurious this “experiential journey” that dared to cost one hundred Demon Gold Coins even after a discount truly was.

As for the shopkeeper’s promise to enhance his strength, Pulapa took it as a joke.