My Apocalypse Territory

Royal Capital, outskirts.

Civilian District.

Rows of low and disorderly houses spread out, with very short distances between them, creating cramped spaces. Sometimes, one had to sidle through the narrow passages.

Mark, following his memory, arrived in this Civilian District and knocked on a certain wooden door.

"Who is it?"

A somewhat weak voice came from behind the door.

Accompanied by a creaking sound, the door was pulled open, revealing a face covered with a beard and looking somewhat haggard.

His face bore scars, and one empty sleeve hung limply. With his other hand, he fully pulled open the door.

"Deputy Commander, why are you here? Iron Ball, Wood Fang, come see who's come!"

The Bearded Man's eyes flashed with surprise, and his voice rose several decibels.

He then blurted out, "Deputy Commander, did the recent scouting yield any findings? What's the situation with the Black Tide?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the Bearded Man regretted it.

The "Wing Corps" had been scouting outside the wall for decades with little to show for it. Now, as the Corps waned, they were keen to understand the true nature of the Black Tide but lamented their lack of ability.

Moreover,

each sortie from the city by the Corps was a deadly venture. It was uncertain if comrades would be forever lain to rest in the wilds. It was not easy for the Deputy Commander to visit, yet he had carelessly brought up such a topic.

Iron Ball and Wood Fang, who emerged from inside, also wore expressions of eagerness and tension.

Suddenly, Mark laughed.

It was a hearty laugh.

"Yes, we've had quite a few findings. We not only discovered survivors outside the wall, but our 'Wing Corps' also received substantial financial support. I came here specifically to gather you old companions..."

The "Wing Corps" had just over a thousand Awakeners, but in fact, there were not a few Awakeners who had joined the "Wing Corps" out of dreams and persistence.

However, the casualty rate in the Corps was just too high.

Some couldn't bear it and left the Corps.

Others were buried in the wilderness.

And some, harboring the thought of bleeding their last drop for the Corps, had to withdraw due to injuries and other reasons, settling down to farm in peace.

The Bearded Man was one of them.

Hearing about the survivors outside the wall, he smiled like a child. However, for Mark's proposal to gather the old comrades, he disagreed.

"The Corps has helped us plenty over the years, and now that there's finally financial aid, it should be used on equipment even more. We invalids can no longer fight, and we don't wish to hold the Corps back."

Iron Ball and Wood Fang nodded repeatedly.

The three of them boasted weak and disordered breathing. Only someone knowledgeable could detect the intense malevolence emanating from their bodies, the mark of soldiers who had been through countless battles.

"Who said you are invalids..."

Mark's wrist flicked, producing a bottle of reddish Potion and another of emerald green. The caps were opened, and with a swoosh, he poured them into the Bearded Man's mouth.

"These two Potions were provided by the big boss. If you don't drink them, it would be a waste."

The Bearded Big Man's eyes widened as he gulped, swallowing the Potion that trickled down his throat.

In an instant,

Waves of warm energy flowed through his limbs and soaked into his organs.

Some of the Bearded Man's festering wounds expelled black blood and healed over at a visible pace, scabbing and falling off.

Even some of his scars were slowly disappearing.

The disordered breathing became steady, the familiar strength returned, and what was nearly a shallow breathing, climbed continuously, finally halting at the Ninth Layer Peak of Awakening.

Apart from his still hollow left arm, he had made a complete recovery.

"This, this must be a Master-level Potion... How could you waste it on me!"

The Bearded Man trembled all over his body.

With excitement.

A Master-level Potion!

Two bottles, one for healing wounds, and the other for replenishing vitality...

Only a Potion Master taking action personally could possibly succeed in creating them. Considering the preciousness of the ingredients, the value of these two Recovery Potions was self-evident.

They were priceless!

Even moderately powerful nobles with influence might not be able to obtain them.

And for a great noble, the sudden use of two Master-level Potions could be painful indeed.

He actually just drank it like that?

There was a momentary urge to vomit it back out to see if there was any potion left.

However, the Bearded Man knew that the effects of the potion had already been absorbed by his body.

At this point, there was nothing he could do but repay the debt with his life.

Then,

he saw Mark flip his wrist, and several more potions appeared in his hand.

Light red ones, emerald green ones.

"Don't waste it," Mark said. "These are only master-level potions, and the big boss won't miss this little amount."

...

Royal Capital, Outer City District.

A group of freelance mercenaries walked into a tavern, arm in arm.

The orange flame of the lanterns flickered, casting a soft light.

"Have you heard? Clear Water Baron and Sweet Potato Baron are at it again, heh, looks like there's business for us these days."

"Shush, I've heard the Patrol Army has been out enforcing laws like fishing lately, getting caught by them means not a single gold coin will be left for you."

"What's there to fear! If I'm broke, worst comes to worst, I'll sell my ass!"

A drunken mercenary shouted, filling the tavern with a lively atmosphere.

Conversations continued nonstop, complaining about tasks not paying enough, or mentioning the unfortunate mercenaries who weren't careful enough and got caught by noble families, beaten to death.

Even for mercenaries, it's a high-risk profession.

Suddenly,

from outside the door on the street, came cries of delight that overshadowed the noise within the tavern.

"Have you heard? Black Night Tavern has a three-day sixty percent off opening sale!"

"Is that the tavern newly opened two streets to the east? I heard it's even more luxurious than the ones in the Inner City and has a richer selection of drinks. A friend of mine went there once and said it was unforgettable—so much so that he doesn't want to go back to those regular pubs anymore."

"The nobles have been there and praised it, hurry up, I'm afraid there will be no seats left if we're too late!"

The shouting quickly faded away.

Under the dim lighting, the patrons of the tavern looked at each other.

A new tavern, huh?

Is the alcohol really that good? So irresistible?

The tavern's customers were skeptical, but the fact that a newly opened tavern could gain such rapid renown was also a testament to the uniqueness of its drinks.

They had no idea that to build the reputation of Black Night Tavern and Green Shadow Entertainment City, countless Source Crystals had been secretly spent, and all sorts of modern marketing techniques employed.

Many of the drink recipes were even purchased by Tang Yu from the system market; they had unique flavors that the citizens of the Big Foodie Empire praised, not to mention a bunch of mercenaries who were not quite as worldly.

They had already fallen hopelessly in love with the flavor of the drinks.

Word of mouth naturally began to ferment.

By the time more and more freelance mercenaries arrived in front of the Black Night Tavern, bathed in neon light, they found the common area inside packed to the brim.

And then even numerous nobles...

Initially resistant and disdainful towards the taverns of the Outer City District.

After hearing about the tavern's exquisite décor and high-end ambiance, they felt conflicted.

Later, they sneaked in with their retainers to the tavern's Noble District, initially fearing being spotted and laughed at for stooping to spend in the Civilian District... only to pop their eyes out and realize the Noble District was full of familiar faces.

Their gazes met, and they continued to pretend not to recognize each other, the air filled with an awkward aura.

Until finally,

various types of drinks were placed on their table.

There was the Fire Dragon drink, which had a scorching sensation upon entry, like a volcanic eruption in the throat, leaving a charred taste in the mouth; there was the Clear Pond Wine, which had a lingering coolness and a lasting savor... no matter how picky someone was, they could find their favorite drink at Black Night Tavern.

It tasted explosively good!

So,

at some point, aristocrats who once deemed it shameful to enter the Outer City District suddenly...

"Have you been to Black Night Tavern? What? Never heard of it?"

Pairs of contemptuous eyes swept over, and the isolated noble was bewildered.

What on earth did I miss out on?