The more they oppose, the more it shows that I am doing the right thing-Chapter 627 - 333 Mosquito Society

The layout of Chaotic City is unique;

Even the family restaurants feature a large L-shaped counter on the street, stocked with "Lao Gan Ma" brand blood juice, always ready to be warmed for drinking.

The servitors of the Blood Clan, deprived of blood by noon and evening, would spend four copper coins—this was over two hundred years ago, and now the price per milliliter has soared to a gold coin—standing at the second-layer station below the fortress, transfused with warm blood, they rested;

Should one be willing to spend another gold coin, they could ascend to the second floor, where "Little Boy" brand fresh blood was offered, and Black Eight Hospital would even bestow an arm as a bonus.

But most of these residents are of the short-lived species, rarely so affluent. Only the nobles of the Longevity Species or guests recognized by the Second Amendment had the privilege of reaching the third floor to leisurely savor blood and flesh as they wished.

[Deep Sea Tattoo Shop], the only foreign-registered tattoo parlor on the third floor, is also the most opulent and extravagant establishment in all of Chaotic City.

Even now, with the entire Chaotic City affected by the amendment laws, the Deep Sea Tattoo Shop remains undisturbed, for this place is truly the Promised Land.

The proprietor of the tattoo shop—residents of the fortress respectfully refer to him as Mister Deep Sea.

His face basin is adorned with innumerable twisted suction-cup tentacles.

When he tattoos clients, he spews ink from the ink sachet in his mouth, mixing it with bone ash ground from the arms of Lower City People, and mercury, to carve these special pigments into the spine of his clients to outline patterns capable of forming blessings similar to those of the Holy Scar.

Because mercury is among the materials used, the townsfolk respectfully call it Silver Pattern. The Silver Pattern is irresistibly itchy for all creatures, addictive like a poison, plunging them into a forbidden ecstasy from which they cannot escape.

Grinding the bone marrow of commoners to ash, he then forges Silver Patterns into the spines of other species, wielding them to control and enslave.

—This is also the technique of human alchemy; all Deep Sea Demon Men are masters of human alchemy.

Even the most adept vampires pale in comparison to the ability of the Deep Sea Demon Clan to extract blood.

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Astute parents of the Deep Sea Demon Men coat coins with blood from a young age, and children who lick gold coins learn to equate the taste of blood with gold;

Historical records also mention that the prophecy of the fall of Nether and the extinction of gods never existed. The shattering Red Moon fell from the sky ten years ago because a gold coin had landed in a small crater on the Red Moon's surface; then the Deep Sea Demon Men discovered it...

Even the most chaotic of the Rainbow Apostles do not approach half the chaotic nature of the Deep Sea Demon Clan.

At first, the Deep Sea Demon Men were merely taken in by the Chaotic City, but after just a few centuries, these Deep Sea Demon Clan members have unmistakably become the true masters of this land, only waiting to complete their election as councilors before they will completely expel all the chaotic inhabitants.

Today, Mister Deep Sea still stands atop countless skeletons, overlooking the whole Chaotic City from above, taking pleasure in the sight of the riff-raff engaged in their exquisite gun battles, smiling with delight at their foolish self-destruction.

They are the most perfect species, the most blessed by the Mother Goddess of Chaos and the Outer Gods. Chaotic City is their Promised Land, and after that, even the entire Holy City of Avad will be within their grasp!

The notion of making money from Deep Sea Demon Men is utterly impossible!

Unheard, unseen,

And indescribable!

They are the great terror from the deep sea!

"Ansu Milton, is it?"

"Are you the newcomer, the orphan?" Mister Deep Sea exhaled steam from his nostrils, peering at the youth before him, uttering low, Ancient God-like murmurs from deep within his throat, "Why should I employ you?"

"The job is yours, and so is the salary," Mister Deep Sea roared, "Why should all the benefits go to a whippersnapper like you!"

An Su paid his respects, fitting of the legendary Deep Sea Demon Man, speaking golden words as soon as he opened his mouth.

To perfectly complete his first main quest, he must earn money from Mister Deep Sea.

"Hmph," Mister Deep Sea chuckled coldly, still emitting the Ancient God-like murmurs from deep within his throat, "I see your ulterior motives; you've fled to this haven on the third floor to escape the war below, afraid of getting shot, don't expect me to shelter you."

Fury unabated, he glared at the handle in An Su's hand—a handle that always worked to his advantage, never to the advantage of others.

"And my shop has enough help with just my wife and son," Mister Deep Sea smirked coldly, "No need for other temp workers."

Under the influence of the Second Edict, the whole Chaotic City erupted into war, yet the tattoo shop was one of the few places exempted by the edict.

So how to drag the Deep Sea Demon Clan into the battlefield?

"Mister Deep Sea, you misunderstand."

After a moment of contemplation, a clever An Su replied with a smile,

"I've come specifically to notify you; actually downstairs, they're running a grand opening promotion, 24 hours countdown, bullets are given away for free for a limited time—first come, first served."

At the mention of "free," Mister Deep Sea's eyes lit up; he hastily wrapped his wife and son with his tentacles, hurling them off the third floor, and urged them earnestly: "Don't come back until you're hit by a few more bullets!"

Such an important task, Mister Deep Sea could not trust to outsiders.

"Your shop is now short-handed," An Su offered considerately.

"Hah, what skills do you have?"

Mister Deep Sea pulled off his hood, revealing his Ancient God's Face; innumerable twisted suckers and tentacles slowly writhing. His ghastly, sallow eyes resembled dead wells, uncanny, his jaundiced skin and oversized nostrils covering half his face—a discomfiting visage, blessed by the Outer Gods, one that if a mortal stared into, their soul would plummet into an abyss of chaos and error.