【Interstellar Contract Magician】Ruyuanke

Chapter 304 [Empire] If I'm Not Afraid of Death

I followed Nightingale out of the room and into the even more chaotic street outside.

"Don't worry about that brat; he's not a real enemy." Nightingale seemed to see my doubts and comforted me, "But since you're here, don't plan on leaving easily. Every step here has its price."

"Price?" I couldn't help but frown.

"Aren't you curious about firearms?" Nightingale raised an eyebrow, his gaze fixed on the dark factory area not far away. His tone was still casual and nonchalant, but it hinted at a hint of provocation and temptation.

I couldn't help but frown. Looking in the direction he pointed, the factory complex was practically enclosed by high walls and barbed wire. From afar, the darkness emanated an unsettling aura. The atmosphere here was completely different, even vastly different from the place I'd been taken to before. It was as if every inch of space here harbored danger, and its presence was no longer accidental.

"You want me to go there?" I asked instead, not directly answering Nightingale's question, a vague sense of unease building within me. Hot weapons are both an attraction and a threat to me. It's filled with chaos, violence, and the exchange of money. Is this exactly the "dark side" I'm looking to understand?

Nightingale didn't answer immediately, but chuckled lightly, with a hint of joking: "Don't you want to understand the real world of mercenaries? Do you think mercenaries just follow orders in the mission center and do simple work? That place is just the surface." He said, slightly tilting his head, revealing a half-joking smile, "What truly supports this world behind the scenes are these hidden forces and the weapons they wield."

He turned and walked towards the factory, his pace neither hurried nor slow. "You're here to learn about the world of mercenaries, right? Then go and see what's hidden in the shadows. Only by looking deeper can you know the truth."

I was irritated by his attitude. He was seducing me so provocatively, like laying a blatant trap before me. I knew this wasn't just a simple temptation; he was challenging me, or rather, he anticipated I would accept it.

I gritted my teeth and followed Nightingale's steps, my steps gentle but full of determination. No matter what, this step must be taken.

I have a world I want to enter, too.

We approached the factory complex, and Nightingale stopped at a seemingly abandoned entrance. There were no guards at the gate, only a few figures wandering around. They looked like mercenaries on patrol, but they clearly didn't notice our approach. Nightingale stopped, turned to me, and whispered, "This is a center for information exchange and weapons trading. You can see a different side of mercenaries here."

"Are you really in this kind of business?" I couldn't help but ask, a hint of sarcasm in my tone. Although I knew he had never concealed his identity and purpose, seeing it all with my own eyes, I still felt a sense of discomfort.

Nightingale sneered, "Mercenaries here don't just fight for missions, they fight for power and resources. If you want to be powerful, you have to deal with these things, that's right." He pointed to the factory gate and whispered, "Go in and experience it yourself, and you'll understand the true rules."

I took a deep breath.

Following Nightingale's footsteps, I entered the factory area, which was filled with a dangerous atmosphere. The air around me seemed frozen, the walls were covered with thick rust, the light was dim, and there was almost no sense of security. The air was filled with the smell of machine oil, and the occasional sound of metal clashing could be heard in the distance.

We rounded several blind corners and entered what looked like a warehouse. The warehouse was filled with weapons and equipment, ranging from rifles to rocket launchers. They were neatly arranged, yet seemed cold and dangerous.

Nightingale didn't seem to care about these weapons. Instead, she looked at me with a hint of pride. "This is the mercenary world you want to know about, a collision of reality and fantasy. True power is not determined by superiors and mission assignments, but by these weapons and the connections behind you."

He turned and walked deeper into the warehouse, where several figures were whispering, seemingly conducting some kind of transaction. I followed him, feeling a mixture of nervousness and curiosity. The oppressive air made it almost impossible to breathe. Everything here was different from my previous understanding, almost suffocating.

"What are these weapons used for?" I couldn't help but ask Nightingale, although there was no need for me to ask.

"Trade, protect, kill." Nightingale's voice was calm and clear.

I stood quietly in the dim warehouse, my gaze etched with unease, as if I had entered an abyss from which there was no return. I remained silent, observing my surroundings, thoughts swirling within me. Those cold weapons, piled in a corner, seemed to declare an unavoidable truth: everything here was governed by rules designed for survival.

And perhaps I have become a part of this rule.

Nightingale looked at me without reacting, seemingly unsurprised. He chuckled softly and took a few steps towards me, his gaze sharp as a knife. "Do you understand?" His tone was somewhat provocative, but more of a test. "What you see now is the true face of this world. Do you think you can continue to pretend ignorance?"

I know very well that everything I see tonight will be the key to determining my fate.

I slowly raised my head, my gaze meeting Nightingale's. I knew there was no turning back. Those doubts had long since faded into silence and calmness over time. No one in this world would treat an incompetent person kindly.

"I don't need to pretend I don't know." I finally spoke, my tone firm. "But you're wrong, Nightingale. I'm not here to be your pawn, nor am I here to accept your so-called temptation. I will give you what I deserve, whether you approve or not."

Nightingale didn't seem to expect me to be so direct. The flash of surprise and a hint of a smile in his eyes made me realize that his attitude towards me had subtly changed. "Oh? Then I'm looking forward to what you can come up with." His tone was relaxed, but still contained that kind of provocation that could not be ignored.

I ignored his provocative gaze and walked to the side of the warehouse, where there were several conspicuous signs, which seemed to be the entrance to some kind of trading center. A clear idea vaguely formed in my mind.

"Who are you?" I asked Nightingale again, my voice low but filled with a desire to explore. "Since you know so much about this world, why don't you tell me the true rules? Where did you find this power?"

Nightingale narrowed her eyes, seeming to be somewhat interested in my direct questioning. "Want to know? If you truly want to take this path, you must be prepared to accept its price. You look at these weapons and these deals, but do you know? Everyone trading here is gambling with their lives. No one will tell you the real answer. Only by going down this path yourself can you possibly discover the 'truth.'"

I didn't respond, only nodded silently, but I had already made up my mind. Since Nightingale wouldn't give me an answer, I'd have to find it myself. I took a deep breath and continued walking towards the black door. The road before me was no longer blurry.

"Aren't you afraid of death?" Nightingale asked coldly behind me.

I didn't look back, nor did I stop. Instead, I took even more determined steps forward: "If I'm not afraid of death, it proves that I'm ready."

Nightingale didn't say anything else, just smiled, as if to express her approval of my answer.