At that moment, Tars realized something crucial: this was the very opportunity he had been waiting for—a way to reach the place he yearned for.

  Though the method was a bit difficult to stomach, it seemed the people here were no strangers to such arrangements. The specific terms likely varied by period, particularly the price. Tars could imagine that during the so-called "Official Talent Testing" seasons, many resentful souls—people like Myrtle, who possessed talent but of an inferior grade—would be sent as servants to the wizard world. Their families would scrape together the mana stones or accept longer contract terms just so they could follow the proud, qualified candidates as attendants.

  As Tars pondered this, he watched the man who was standing and hawking the servant's contract. In the end, no one showed any clear interest, and the man sat back down, looking crestfallen.

  Soon, another person stood up. "Seeking a Gem Summoner capable of communicating with a Fairy King. Rewards will be given based on the quality of the lead. Interested friends can talk to me in detail later." This person sat down quickly after speaking.

  After a brief silence, a man whose mask could not hide his advanced age stood up unsteadily. He looked as though he had stumbled into the gathering straight from a drinking bout.

  "I... have a treasure! Not for sale! Many of you sitting here are likely wizards—or to be precise, 'wild wizards.' I am one too."

  The old man swayed as he spoke, looking as if he might topple over at any second. His words introduced a discordant note to the atmosphere of the room.

  "Even among wild wizards, there are geniuses. This is a spell of my own creation," the old man said, holding up a book. "I offer a wager of five hundred mana stones. If you can learn it, I’ll give it to you for free—I'll return all your mana stones and the spell is yours. But if you fail to learn it, the five hundred stones belong to me."

  He held high a somewhat tattered, grey volume. Initially, his tone sounded boastful, almost as if he were trying to scam people with an unlearnable fake. Yet, in those final sentences, one could hear a deep, underlying sense of regret.

  "I thought many people would show up today, but we got caught by an early closure. Perhaps this is just my fate," the old man lamented.

  When no one responded for a long time, the old man scanned the room but didn't sit down immediately. Just as some were beginning to grow impatient, Tars spoke up.

  "Sir, may I have a look first?"

  "Haha! Why not!"

  The old man tossed it over carelessly, as if the tattered notebook were something he had just picked up off the street rather than his life's work. Tars caught it and flipped to the first page.

  Zero-Ring Spell: Miser's Touch.

  As he turned the pages, his initial plan to skim through slowed to a crawl. He found himself genuinely drawn in.

  "You two, if you are interested, you may converse privately later," the crisp female voice rang out again.

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  "No need. I'll take this book." Tars raised the book toward the old man and offered a nod of apology to those around him before he began producing mana stones. He hadn't expected to be so captivated by it. The strange little bird flew over once more to collect his payment.

  "Only one person? Fine. I was going to give it away anyway, and now I have drinking money," the old man muttered. Amidst the irritated glares of the crowd, he finally returned to his seat.

  Tars listened to his grumbling, wondering privately what kind of liquor was so expensive it required mana stones to purchase. He felt not a shred of regret.

  "Seeking verification: The Baron of Starry City is seriously ill, or perhaps gravely injured, and his life may be in danger... Anyone with information or who can piece together clues, find me for a detailed talk afterward." The speaker sat down decisively.

  Tars glanced at the red-haired woman beside him. Being so close, he could sense her breathing becoming heavy.

  This was his first time seeing this style of gathering, and he found it quite fascinating. When the stout man had released his intel earlier, he made a guarantee, and everyone here believed him and paid—it was as if the room itself could distinguish truth from lies. However, that didn't stop people from using the forum to spread misleading information. For instance, the person who just sat down had essentially released the news of the Baron's potential death for free under the guise of "seeking verification." No one could know if his intent was truly to verify it or simply to broadcast it.

  The people sitting here were undoubtedly individuals of some status in Starry City, and this news was bound to cause ripples. His companion, Myrtle, had been visibly tense since the moment she heard it.

  Following this, someone offered potions for sale, two people sought to buy materials, and another person asked for help in deciphering a piece of magical knowledge. Unfortunately, no deals were struck.

  The room fell quiet. After a moment, the floor was opened for free conversation. People left their seats, scattering throughout the hall, some even producing drinks as if they were old friends. Tars wanted to talk to the old man, but looking around, the man was nowhere to be found.

  "Do not worry. That man's promise was judged to be true. If you learn the spell in that book and return here, I will help you recover your payment," the little bird flew to Tars's side, uttering the crisp girl's voice.

  "Thank you," Tars said. Perhaps unable to withstand Tars's direct stare, the bird didn't linger; it flapped its wings and flew off immediately.

  Tars stood up, intending to find the scrawny man to see why he was digging for information about him. Unfortunately, two others were already talking to the man, and the exchange looked unpleasant. Tars decided to wait.

  "What do you think about all this?" he asked suddenly.

  Myrtle clearly knew what he was referring to, but she still looked dazed. To her, this was a catastrophe. She was deeply entwined with Young Master Rodrigo, the Starry Family, and the city itself.

  The two of them began to wander the hall. "Let's leave," he said. The old man was definitely gone, and the other man had devolved into an argument with someone.

  "A reminder to you both: you cannot return to the black market you came from. If you leave, you will be sent directly to the entry point outside the market," the little bird chirped as it passed by.

  The two stepped through the door by the hall wall and appeared directly in the original small alley. They returned to the manor in silence. Seeing that she was still overwhelmed with worry, Tars decided to start a conversation.

  "I'll give you a gift worth a hundred mana stones. Twin Moon City is facing a 'Sunset,' and it will happen within a few years. That was the stout man's news," Tars said. "He said the war started because of it."

  Upon hearing this, the red-haired woman's worry vanished, replaced by a deathly pallor.

  "What exactly is a 'Sunset'?" he asked.

  The woman blinked, slowly regaining her senses. "A Sunset—also called Light-Loss—is a term born specifically for Cavern Cities. From the moment a city is established upon the discovery of a 'Light-Stone,' there is naturally a moment where it loses its light and moves toward destruction. The difference is... the opening act is sparked by light, but the curtain never falls on the actual day the light vanishes. Whether it's a great city or a small one, long before the light is truly lost—sometimes decades before—the city is destroyed prematurely by the madness of its people."