Dawn Walker-Chapter 76: Blood for Sale IV
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"You have good eyes," she said.
Sekhmet smiled faintly. "I have expensive eyes," he corrected.
Bat Bat whispered, "Master eyes cost money."
Sekhmet ignored it and began selecting.
First, he chose several fresh jars for Bat Bat.
He picked blood types that were safe, rich, and compatible with bat physiology, based on what his blood eye showed. He avoided toxic troll blood and anything cursed.
He selected:
– Fresh Beastkin (Boar) blood
– Fresh Night Deer blood (rich stamina traces)
– Fresh Sky Serpent blood (light affinity traces, diluted)
– Fresh Shadow Lizard blood (minor shadow traces)
Bat Bat watched the jars like a child watching sweets being stacked.
"Mine," it whispered.
Sekhmet then selected the rare ones.
He chose the divine vial, three drops.
He chose additional rare bloods from the shop’s hidden stock the witch revealed after seeing he was willing to spend.
One jar was ancient demonkin blood, thick and dark, labeled by his blood eye as useful for summoning violent minions.
One jar was old beast king blood, dried into flakes, capable of producing a stronger scout-type summon.
One jar was a strange silver-red blood labeled as "fallen angel" by the blood eye, older than most, with high summon compatibility but unknown temperament.
The witch watched him choose without comment, but her eyes gleamed with the satisfaction of a predator watching prey walk willingly into a trap of spending.
Sekhmet calculated quickly. He was about to burn money like it was kindling. But he did not feel regret. He felt invested.
Because blood was not only food.
Blood was growth.
Blood was future.
Finally, after the last selection, Sekhmet placed his hand on the counter and spoke clearly.
"I will take it all," he said.
Bat Bat squeaked in joy.
The witch nodded once, satisfied.
She began packing the jars into runed containers to preserve them.
As she did, Sekhmet noticed something odd.
The witch moved with practiced efficiency.
She had done this for centuries.
That meant her customers were not only criminals.
They were people with power. And that meant the underground market was deeper than it looked.
Sekhmet paid.
Chaos stones clinked onto the counter in piles.
Clink... clink... clink...
Bat Bat stared at the stones with awe.
"So many shiny," it whispered.
Sekhmet’s merchant instinct still twitched painfully at each clink, but he forced himself to stay calm.
When the transaction was complete, the witch slid the packaged bloods toward him.
Sekhmet accepted them and opened his void land storage connection.
One by one, he stored the packages into the void land safely.
The system chimed quietly as it registered the stored items, organizing them like it always did.
[Ding! Inventory Update.
Blood Purchases Registered.
Total Spent: 2,000,000+ Chaos Stones.
Stored Blood Types: Multiple.
Notable Acquisition: Human God Normal Blood (3 drops).
Notable Acquisition: Rare Summon-Compatible Blood Jars (6 total).]
Sekhmet’s eyes flickered.
Two million.
It was a painful number even for someone holding ten million.
Bat Bat leaned close.
"Master rich," it whispered.
Sekhmet muttered, "Master is poorer now."
The witch watched him store everything.
"You have interesting storage," she said casually.
Sekhmet’s expression remained neutral.
"Relic," he replied.
The witch’s eyes narrowed as if she wanted to ask more, but then she waved a hand.
"Underground rule," she said. "No questions."
Sekhmet nodded.
"No questions," he agreed.
The witch leaned back.
"Come again," she said, voice dry. "You spend like a man trying to fill a hole in his soul."
Sekhmet’s gaze sharpened. He did not answer. Because she was too close to the truth. He turned toward the curtain.
Bat Bat stared at the witch one last time, then whispered, "Danger lady."
The witch’s eyes gleamed.
"I heard that," she said.
Bat Bat froze.
Then it smiled awkwardly.
"Compliment," it squeaked.
Sekhmet left before the witch decided what kind of compliment that was.
He stepped back out into the underground market corridor, the noise hitting him again like a wave.
Vendors shouting.
Chains rattling.
Boots scraping.
The underground breathed.
Sekhmet’s hunger was quieter now, not because he had fed fully, but because he had hope.
He had blood stored. He had options. He had a way to feed without losing control in his own home.
Bat Bat leaned close to his ear.
"Can drink now," it whispered eagerly.
Sekhmet muttered, "Later."
Bat Bat pouted.
They began walking toward the exit.
Sekhmet’s mood was strangely light as he moved through the underground crowd. He had come here to test his power and feed.
He had done both.
He had also gained something he did not expect.
A resource.
A path.
He remembered being ten years old, walking here with Uncle Ben, feeling scared and excited at the same time, holding his uncle’s coat like it was a shield.
Now he walked alone.
And the underground felt smaller.
Not because it was weak.
Because he had grown.
He and Bat Bat spoke quietly as they walked, their voices blending into the market noise.
Bat Bat asked, "I want to eat the god blood."
"No, I have other plans. that might summon a human shaped bat." Sekhmet replied.
Bat Bat whispered, "God blood jar... make bat people."
Sekhmet replied softly, "If it works."
Bat Bat flapped excitedly.
"Bat people," it repeated. "Half human. Half bat. Family."
Sekhmet’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"That is not family," he said.
Bat Bat blinked.
"Then what," it asked innocently.
Sekhmet sighed.
"A problem," he replied.
Bat Bat nodded solemnly as if accepting the sacred truth of life.
"Problem good," it said. "Problem make master strong."
Sekhmet almost smiled.
Almost.
They drew closer to the exit corridor, where the stairway back to the city waited.
That was when, far above, in a different part of the underground...
The two thugs Sekhmet had fed on earlier finally crawled back to their hideout.
They did not remember the feeding. They remembered pain. They remembered humiliation. They remembered being beaten and left like trash.
Their minds had blurred the rest, as if something inside them refused to accept that they had been prey.
