Synthesis-type adventurers

Chapter 61 Rhodes' "Gold Rush Gamble"

Chiba ran a long finger across the parchment list, finally pressing it onto a few lines of illegible handwriting.

She raised one eyebrow, her amber eyes revealing a businesswoman's prudence, while her thick, bushy tail swept impatiently behind her.

"Boss, there are rules in my business; I shouldn't pry into the buyers' privacy." Chiba shook the sheepskin list. "But are you sure you want to spend real money on this... junk?"

She repeated the items above: "Expired artisan adhesive, moldy swamp rot, and these buckets of inferior corrosive cleaning fluid... If you just want to clean the ditch, you could actually hire a goblin cleaner for less."

"Sometimes, worthless scraps, if placed in the right place, are worth more than gold." Rhodes didn't give a lengthy explanation, simply pushing the money bag across the table. "And, this also perfectly reflects my current state—a scavenger from the gutter, barely making ends meet by collecting junk, isn't it?"

"If you say so, then it is."

Chiba shrugged, snatched the purse, and skillfully weighed its contents in her hand. A sweet smile spread across her fox-like, cunning face.

"As long as the coins in the bag are genuine, even if you asked me to retrieve pebbles from a cesspool for you, I would polish them until they shone and bring them back to you."

"That's unnecessary." Rhodes rose from his seat and pulled his cloak hood tighter. "Meet at the elevator entrance at six o'clock tomorrow morning. Don't be late."

Avira followed behind him, her face still pale and devoid of color, but she took each step firmly.

She had no objection to Rhodes's arrangement. According to her creed, an sworn sword does not need to know every command of the commander, but only how to slash.

……

Rusty Harbor slums, Rod's underground hideout.

By the second hour after midnight, the torrential rain outside had subsided into a light drizzle.

Under the dim light of the oil lamp, the wooden table in front of Rod was covered with various scraps that Chiba had brought.

Rod put on a pair of craftsman's goggles with frayed edges, picked up a pair of rusty, fine-tipped tweezers with his right hand, and grasped a clump of slippery moss.

Within his field of vision, a grayish-white rune appeared above the unremarkable clump of decaying fungus: [Living Radiance (White)].

[At this point, I hope readers will remember our domain name 12199.99]

"Let's get to work," Rod muttered to himself, concentrating.

His spiritual tendrils extended from his consciousness space, transforming into an invisible carving knife that cut into the core structure of the moss.

A sharp pain shot through his head as the rune representing luminescence was completely ripped out, coalescing into a dim speck of light suspended in the air.

Rod's movements did not stop; his gaze immediately shifted to the bucket of asphalt-thick waste glue.

With analysis and stripping, [strong adhesion (white)] was extracted.

Rhode simultaneously input the two runes into the synthesis panel of his consciousness space. His mental energy surged, and white light intertwined and collided, eventually fusing into one.

A few seconds later, a new entry emitting a cold blue light was created: [Alchemy Light Source - Adhesive Type (Blue)].

He loaded the entry into a glass sphere filled with stabilizing fluid, then flung it against the wall.

The glass ball struck the stone wall with a muffled thud. Its structure withstood the impact and it became firmly fixed to the damp rock face, illuminating that small area.

"The effect is good."

Rod looked at his masterpiece with satisfaction.

In that sewer full of slime and deep pits, this little gadget that sticks wherever you throw it and can keep glowing for two hours is definitely a hundred times better than those torches that go out as soon as they touch water, or those ridiculously expensive and non-slip magic crystals.

But this is not enough.

Light can only make people see the face of death; only weapons can make death retreat.

Rod rubbed his throbbing temples, and without pausing, his gaze returned to the buckets of strong acid cleaning agent labeled with skulls and crossbones.

This cleaning agent is used in factories to wash away oil stains from heavy machinery. It is extremely corrosive and can even turn rust into water within seconds. Its only drawback is that it is too volatile and difficult to store.

However, when it comes to the dictionary system, the disadvantages become its strengths, even though this work requires more effort.

Rhodes operated again, peeling the [Corrosion (White)] rune from the cleaning fluid, and also peeling the [Nerve Paralysis (White)] from the remnants of the Agony Embrace that had been used to load the Dragonblood inscription.

He injected the two entries into the acidic slurry, divided them equally, filled them into earthenware jars, and then sealed them with a rudimentary delayed-heat ignition.

Finished product: [Special Toxic Mist Canister - Corrosive Haze] x6.

Once the earthenware pot breaks, the liquid inside will instantly vaporize, forming a pale green toxic mist with a radius of five meters.

This toxic fog can not only corrode the respiratory tract and eyes of living organisms, but also cause irreversible rust damage to metal structures, and even render enemies unable to move in pain through its paralyzing effect.

In this lawless underground world, this insidious yet highly effective contraption is the life-saving talisman for adventurers at the bottom of society.

After doing all this, Rod felt a sharp, stabbing pain deep in his brain.

He glanced at his status and a negative state of [mental fatigue (gray)] that he couldn't shake off quietly emerged.

"We can't continue like this."

Rod stopped what he was doing and carefully hung the finished tool on the hook of his belt.

The underground world is fraught with danger; a moment's hesitation means certain death. Overdrawing one's mental energy and falling into a poor state is tantamount to offering oneself up for death.

He extinguished the oil lamp, lay down on the narrow iron bed, and forced himself into a deep sleep within seconds.

……

Six o'clock in the morning, in the southern part of the port area, at a waste processing plant.

After four hours of deep sleep, Rhodes' mental strength had fully recovered to its peak.

The air was still damp after the rain, and the strong smell of engine oil and the faint smell of the sea filled the nostrils as usual.

The grating sound of gears meshing echoed through the morning mist as the industrial elevator, located in the southeast corner of the junkyard and leading deep underground, once again opened its doors to adventurers.

Although this place appears to be a public entrance, in reality, every time it is opened, money flows through it.

In Aethergard, exploring dungeons is not without its challenges.

For those who belong to large organizations or have long-term contracts, they usually take on specific commissions issued by the guild—such as "clearing the sludge monsters from the C area ventilation duct" or "recycling the copper core cables from the old world."

These jobs not only bring guaranteed bounties, but the organizations they work for also cover the high costs of elevators and basic supplies.

But for lone wolves or low-level squads without a mandate, this behavior is called a "gold rush gamble".

They had to empty their purses to obtain those expensive travel tokens, with no guarantee of return, essentially gambling their lives on the table of chance.

However, after centuries of repeated scraping, the bricks and stones of the surface relics have been completely looted, and any copper and iron fragments that still have some value have long been swept away by the predecessors.

In those days, "gold rush gambling" was practically synonymous with "losing everything".

Those who go down this path are usually desperate criminals with nowhere else to turn, gamblers driven to desperation by loan sharks, or madmen with blind confidence in their own abilities.

But Rhodes' intentions today are completely different.

He was heading to a deeper part of the sub-level one of Zone C, which he had explored last time.

That area had been a forbidden zone for the past two hundred years due to the scorching steam that had accumulated over the years, the alchemical explosives that had not yet deactivated, and the uncontrolled structures that roamed around.

Without a solution, no one would willingly die for a few scattered fragments.

This means that, in Rhodes's mind, that place was a "brand new copy" that had not been touched by scavengers and was completely intact.