Meteor Fall Master in the 'Starry Abyss'
Chapter 396 - 039. Heroic Spirit Bar

Chapter 396: 039. Heroic Spirit Bar

The bar was bathed in dark blue lights. With a mint and chili tequila in hand, a mercenary holding a laser rifle, strumming a heat-seeking acoustic guitar, and a silicon-based lifeform bartender with dead fish eyes were casually chatting with you.

The mercenary next to you, clearly drunk, spewed acidic spit while cursing and discussing political conspiracies. He talked about how to chop off Redd Gold’s head, as if that would free the border satellites of Valkyrie Fortress from control.

This was Mintak’yko, the most famous bar in Valkyrie Fortress, but regular patrons couldn’t care less about remembering its cumbersome name.

"Heroes"

That was their true destination.

In the pricey Valkyrie Fortress, not everyone could afford hotels and apartments. Even if you splurged on housing, gang wars and mercenary skirmishes, coupled with frequent changes of local overlords, made most new arrivals opt to rest in bars.

"Did you see the news? I told you, Redd Gold, that bastard, stealing things all over the place, he’d eventually stir up trouble — look, the Union Group got fined 1.2 trillion Ammonium Gold by the Abyssal Intergalactic Alliance as punishment for their early repayment to the Alat Federation!"

A silicon-based being, covered in crystallization, took a sip of highly acidic liquid. The circuit boards in their veins lit up red-hot, and their expression panel beamed as if afraid no one would notice how impressive their self-generated program was:

"In my opinion, this is the most badass fine Layer Abyss has ever imposed on a Narrative-level civilization. But the Empire of Heralds is no saint either; they’re making the Alat Federation fend off Purple Moon Society’s Atenia."

"No, you’re lacking a macro perspective here. Without Narrative-level civilizations blocking up top, these societies would’ve plundered the Starry Abyss clean already."

A priest knight with a crocodile head finished his prayers, tucked the scriptures into his cloak, grinned, and grumbled:

"The Obliteration Sanctum, over the past four millennia, has been waging war incessantly using Stellar Gods’ strategies, expanding their territory by one-fifth. The Empire of Heralds, though expanding their Inherent Time Domain, only solidified two interstellar routes, totaling less than 40 million light-years — that’s still better than the gluttonous priests from the Obliteration Sanctum."

Clang!

A dagger was stabbed into the bar table, and immediately a strikingly beautiful elf sat down between them. She flicked her silver ponytail, and her exoskeleton armor adapted and transformed, revealing her dazzling chocolate-colored skin.

"Hey, Kaven Magnet, Crocodile Prophet. You two are quite full today, attacking political affairs so early in the morning."

She casually put her feet on the table, grabbed a glowing magic energy beer, and said sarcastically:

"On one side, it’s the Philosopher King battling the Pope; on the other, societies are invading ’civilization.’ Hahaha, the Starry Abyss is so exciting. We, with our heads on the line, free mercenaries paying minimal taxes per year, actually care about which Narrative-level big shots are better? Truly incredible!"

"Flana Nightingale, if your sharp tongue were half as beautiful as your Dark Elf face and figure, you wouldn’t be wandering as a free mercenary for 90 years without finding a permanent team," Magnet retorted sharply.

"Although Magnet is shortsighted and often speaks with a sandy mouth, honesty is one of his few admirable qualities."

Crocodile Prophet crossed a sign on his chest:

"May the all-knowing, all-powerful Infinite Longevity Buddha bless you, and may you soon escape this sea of suffering, Amino."

"Screw you." Dark Elf Flana flipped her slender middle finger: "When I find a rich, young, innocent handsome guy, you’ll all regret it."

"Then you’ll have to find a blind one," Magnet said bluntly.

"Hey, you sand-spitting silicon eater, enough already!"

"No fighting, if you break anything, you’re paying for it."

Creaaak—

As the three bickered, the bar’s doors slowly opened. A young man with short golden hair, wearing a blue and white coat, walked in slowly. He wore a hood, looking like a Mage but entirely different from the usually understated Spellcasters.

He did nothing special, yet people naturally paid attention to him.

"Hey, a newcomer?" Magnet muttered.

"A carbon-based human Mage, not sure which human race," Crocodile Prophet instantly identified his race and occupation.

Dark Elf sharply commented:

"Green."

Plop, plop.

The man went straight to the counter, sat down, and said to the bartender:

"Oblivion Spring Brew, Sub-dragon Blood Whiskey, Nuclear Beer, Cherry, and Lemon."

"One Valhalla, 25 Ammonium Gold," the bartender said with a peculiar expression:

"Haven’t seen your face around, but you don’t look new. Mages shouldn’t be down to hanging out in a free mercenary bar."

"Political asylum," the young man said succinctly: "Mr. Olavir once posted a bounty for Phoebe Zhennan, marking this bar’s location."

"I see, here for the reward, huh?" The bartender shrugged: "You’re late. Olavir’s supply for that material is already sufficient. We won’t be buying Phoebe Zhennan in the short term."

The young man chuckled:

"I know, but I think Mr. Olavir won’t refuse a raw material planet for Radonuo that hasn’t been claimed."

The silicon-based bartender’s face stiffened and immediately took on a serious tone: "Please wait a moment."

The next moment, he plugged a data receiver into the interface at the back of his head. After a moment’s flicker on his facial display, it reassembled into an old, grumpy face. His voice also grew elderly:

"You have a Radonuo production planet?"

"You don’t believe me?" the young man asked back.

"Radonuo is an excellent raw material for silicon-based lifeform maintenance, capable of extending their life sparks. Its inert gas molecules can prevent internal crystallization oxidation. Moreover, Radonuo is an irresistible delicacy for silicon-based lifeforms — the market is immense, the profit too high. If I, as a bar owner, could get my hands on it, I’d be able to buy this whole street in a month."

The other party did not openly express doubt, but every word conveyed one point:

Such a high-value product as Radonuo can’t possibly be provided by a newcomer, barely out of political asylum.

"Moreover, you’re not even at Gamma Rank." He glanced at the young man, his tone laced with a bit of contempt: "How long have you been an adult? Are you in college? If you need money urgently, I can offer you a job — but if you’re here to bluff, sorry, this is one of the most lawless places in the Entire Abyss. There’s no rule of law."

"Mr. Olavir, I think you’ve misunderstood." The young man smiled, saying: "I never claimed to own a raw material planet capable of producing Radonuo."

"Then there’s nothing left to discuss. Get out. I don’t have time to waste with you."

With that, Olavir prepared to lift his hand and unplug the signal receiver.

"That’s too bad," the young man said with regret: "I was thinking, that planet is a no man’s land, and the civilization on it is still playing with stone tools and bones. Known for your hard work, ’Six Eyes,’ Olavir should like it very much."

"Who knew that the rumors were not true. The real Mr. Olavir isn’t willing to put in the effort to develop and just wants to buy ready-made, expensive Radonuo farms — in that case, I’ll have to look elsewhere."

With that, the young man turned to leave.

"—Come back!"

Olavir hurriedly called out:

"You said...the planet is unclaimed? Surely it’s not one of those secretly observed by interstellar civilizations, used as societal experiment fields? Is it really an independent planet?"