100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full?-Chapter 436 - Trade

Right now, Lucien was meeting the black-robed leader once again.

This time, he did not receive him in a hall.

He brought him instead to the edge of the Palace of Stillness, where the view opened over the rising body of Lootwell below.

Marie and Kaia came with him.

Kaia already knew the man, having crossed paths with him in the Liberator headquarters on the Middle Continent.

Marie, on the other hand, had once been invited by him to join the Liberators, only to refuse and remain with Eirene instead while waiting for Lucien’s return.

Lucien raised one hand slightly.

Without sound, an Edict descended into the world.

The stone at the palace edge shifted.

A round table rose.

Then chairs.

They emerged from the floor as naturally as if they had always belonged there and had simply been waiting for permission to appear.

The black-robed leader sat across from Lucien.

Behind him stood the four black-robed women who had always followed him like shadows.

Lucien’s eyes rested on them for a moment longer than courtesy required.

His old conjecture finally settled into certainty.

They are indeed puppets.

The black-robed leader noticed his gaze and said, "You have already guessed."

Lucien nodded once.

"You integrated with the Law of Puppetry."

The man inclined his head slightly.

"Correct."

Then he glanced toward the women behind him.

"Alpha. Beta. Gamma. Delta."

Marie blinked.

Then she looked at him.

Then at Lucien.

Then back at him again.

"Wait," she said, "don’t tell me you call yourself Shadow."

Kaia let out a short laugh.

"Yes he does. He’s Shadow. Though he still hasn’t completed the Shadow Garden."

The black-robed leader fell silent.

Lucien, unfortunately, understood the reference too.

His brows rose.

"Wait," he said, "don’t tell me your real name is Cid Kag—"

"My name is John," the black-robed leader said immediately.

Then he added, with deep pain, "Just John."

Marie grinned.

"Ooh. Creative parents."

Kaia leaned in. "The name John is already taken. He should at least be John69 or John71."

Marie snorted. "Too ugly. Make it John 6-7."

Lucien closed his eyes.

He had heard enough.

With a flick of thought, the world answered him again.

Both women vanished from their seats and reappeared far below, unceremoniously relocated into one of the active construction districts where, judging from Marie’s outraged shout and Kaia’s laughter, they were now surrounded by workers and confused slimes.

Lucien exhaled.

"I apologize," he said, looking back at the black-robed leader. "Those two are difficult to control when placed together."

The man across from him remained silent for several breaths.

Then, in a tone so weary and human that Lucien almost doubted he had heard correctly, he said, "I hate women. My puppets are indeed the best."

The four black-robed women behind him immediately leaned in with perfect timing and began rubbing his shoulders and back as if they had been trained specifically for post-trauma emotional support.

Lucien nearly choked.

That was not an image he had ever expected to witness from the mysterious black-robed leader who moved like a blade through ruins and shadowed operations.

"I will make sure they do not come near you," Lucien said.

The man coughed once, as though realizing too late that he had shown a little too much of himself.

When he spoke again, his deeper, controlled voice had returned.

"Good."

The puppets stepped back into stillness.

Then his expression settled, and the real reason for his visit emerged.

But before that—

Lucien’s thoughts briefly returned to how this meeting had even happened.

•••

Days earlier, the black-robed leader and his puppets had arrived outside Lootwell.

The truth was, he had not come by his own curiosity alone.

He had been directed there.

The Liberator headquarters had sent him.

By that point, everyone in the West Continent knew that the Karesh Desert had changed. Entire merchant routes had begun bending around it. Scouts failed to cross the outer barriers. Diviners saw only distortion when they pushed too deeply.

Stories spread quickly in the absence of facts.

A mighty figure has claimed the desert.

An ancient sovereign sleeps within.

A hidden civilization has risen there.

Most people stayed away.

The unknown was still stronger than greed when the scale grew large enough.

The black-robed leader had thought much the same.

Then he arrived.

And the black card he carried reacted.

That had been enough to tell him the diviner at headquarters had not lied.

Someone who can help is here.

Kaia had been the one to report that a Liberator was waiting outside.

Lucien went himself.

Then he had been surprised to find Shadow.

That surprise had turned into convenience almost immediately.

For the whole next day, Lucien had drawn information out of him piece by piece, learning the shape of the world beyond Lootwell.

•••

Now, at the palace edge, with the interruptions removed and the table quiet at last, Lucien folded his hands and said, "Can you tell me the real reason you came here?"

Shadow gave a single nod.

"Yes."

Lucien waited.

The man did not rush his answer.

"To summarize," he said, "the West Continent branch needs help."

He did not dramatize it. That made it more convincing.

"The East moved first. The Middle remains the strongest in organization. The South and North have older roots than we do. The West..." He paused briefly. "The West branch was formed too recently."

Lucien understood immediately.

There were too few people, too little infrastructure, and far too much chaos.

Shadow continued.

"The world changed too soon for more Liberators to reinforce this branch. We have the cure. We have channels. What we lack is sustained capacity."

Lucien’s eyes sharpened.

Production.

Shadow noticed he understood and continued without wasting time.

"The problem is not only ingredients," he said. "It is what must be done to them. The hybrid cultivation process for several components cannot be maintained continuously by ordinary hands. We do not have enough capable people in the West to keep supply stable."

That was the real wound.

The cure existed.

But existence was not enough.

Medicine that could not be produced at scale was not salvation. It was privilege.

Lucien glanced once toward Lootwell below.

He already saw where this was going.

Shadow went on. "Headquarters considered several options. Most were too slow, too visible, or too unreliable." Then he looked directly at Lucien. "In the end, they chose the most practical one."

Lucien smiled faintly.

"They sent you to ask me."

"Yes."

Shadow did not flinch from saying it.

"And this will not be charity," he added. "We came with something to trade."

Lucien’s expression did not change, but something inside him sharpened instantly.

"What kind of trade?"

For the first time in the conversation, Shadow seemed to measure his words more carefully. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

"The diviner paid a price to find it," he said. "The restrictions around the Primordial Slime’s small worlds are not simple, and tracing one tied to someone like you was... costly."

Lucien said nothing.

Shadow held his gaze.

"We know where your small world is."

For a moment, the wind itself seemed to stop.

Lucien’s eyes changed.

The shift was slight.

But the palace edge grew quieter around him, as if even the space nearby understood that something important had just been said.

"Say that again," Lucien said.

Shadow did.

"We know the coordinates of your small world."

Lucien did not speak immediately.

He had searched for more than a year.

He had crossed planes.

He had pulled worlds into himself.

He had been noticed by something unknown during that search.

And still, he had not found it.

Now, the Liberators were offering exactly that.

The black-robed leader watched him steadily and added, "Finding it was not easy. It cost the diviner. Do not mistake this for information lightly acquired."

Lucien believed him.

That only made the offer heavier.

He leaned back slightly.

"And in exchange," he said, "you want production support."

Shadow nodded.

"We need mass cultivation of the hybrid ingredients. Not just a temporary batch. Not just local processing. A sustained flow. Enough to support the West branch before the Exchange tightens its hold here the way it did elsewhere."

Lucien’s fingers tapped the armrest once.

"It is a good trade," he said at last.

Then his eyes lifted again, sharper than before.

"I accept."

Shadow did not smile.

But some of the tension in his shoulders eased.

"Great."

Lucien looked down over Lootwell again.

Then he looked back at Shadow.

"You will have your production."

And in return—

The path home had finally appeared.