The Rich Cultivator-Chapter 379. Eyes in the Crowd

"Hello, my name is Alna," said a young woman with a warm smile. She wore a medieval-style innkeeper outfit: a white chemise with wide, puffy sleeves under a reddish-brown corset laced at the front, paired with a plain brown skirt that reached her ankles. Her attire gave her a classic charm, and her posture carried the quiet confidence of someone familiar with her surroundings.

"Alna, huh..." Tyler tilted his head thoughtfully. "I recall meeting another girl named Alna before. First Darla, now Alna. What a coincidence."

Lily rolled her eyes and smirked. "Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if every girl we meet from now on shares the same names as the ones you’ve ’played’ with."

"Hello, Miss Alna. My name is Tyler White. You can just call me Tyler," he said, brushing off Lily’s remark with a polite smile.

"There’s no need for formalities. Just call me Alna," she replied quickly and cheerfully.

With that, Alna began leading the group through the bustling streets of the island. As they walked away from the Port Castle, the view opened up, revealing the entire island in its strange, colorful glory.

Rows of multicolored houses stretched out before them, interspersed with clusters of lush trees and whimsical structures. The buildings didn’t follow any standard architectural style—some looked like candy shops from fairy tales, others resembled crooked towers or houses built atop giant mushrooms.

"This place doesn’t feel like a pirate turf," Darla murmured. "It’s more like..."

"An amusement park," Mana finished for her.

"Didn’t we just had this conversation?" Tyler muttered.

As Tyler continued taking in the sights, he suddenly felt a gust of wind rush past him. Instinctively, he stepped back just in time to avoid getting clipped by something strange. A bizarre rollercoaster, shaped like a string of clown-themed carts, zoomed past them—except it wasn’t riding on any tracks.

Tyler stared at it, baffled. "What the hell...?"

"That’s the Death Ride," Alna said with a shrug. "It never stops. Just loops around the entire island endlessly. No tracks. No maintenance. And nobody’s ever seen it being refueled with Prana or Aura Pearls. It just... goes."

"Death Ride," Tyler echoed, watching it disappear in the distance. In one of the carts, he could swear he saw skeletons sitting upright, arms raised in frozen excitement.

"So, what exactly is this island’s specialty?" Tyler asked, his curiosity growing with every step.

As they moved deeper into the market area, the atmosphere changed. While there were regular stalls selling food, clothing, weapons, and charms, there were also disturbing sights—slaves, bound in colorful enchanted collars, stood on platforms like merchandise.

Alna sighed. "Just as you see. Slaves are the specialty here. Especially the ones brought in by the Circus Group. They regularly sail north and come back with captives—people taken from islands, ruined ships, even flying cities. And once they’re here, well... they’re sold."

Lily’s eyes narrowed. "Circus Pirates, huh? The Boss of this Island. Are they here now?"

"Yes, they are," Alna answered. "They’re at the Tent."

"Tent?" Mathilda tilted her head.

"You’ll understand once you see it," Alna replied cryptically.

Soon after, Alna led them to a large shop, its exterior decorated with bright banners and wind chimes that jingled in the breeze. As they approached the entrance, a group of suspicious-looking men walked toward them. Their movements were deliberate, and one of them made a series of subtle hand signs directed at Tyler and the girls.

Tyler and girls immediately tensed, their eyes narrowing in confusion. The group instinctively raised their guard.

Before things could escalate, Alna stepped forward and shouted, "We’re not buying it! Get lost!"

The men scowled in frustration but eventually dispersed, muttering curses under their breath.

Once they were safely inside the shop, Tyler turned to Alna. "What was that all about?"

Alna’s expression turned serious. "They were trying to sell Immortal Dreams. It’s a dangerous drug—highly addictive and potent enough to affect even Grandmaster level Immortal Practitioners. Once you’ve tasted it, it’s almost impossible to stop. That’s why it’s banned in most regions in north, but here... well, everything’s for sale."

She turned to emphasize her point. "Never try those—"

Before she could finish, her voice was cut off by the sound of haggling just a few feet away.

"How do I even know this stuff’s the real deal? You trying to scam me ’cause I’m new here?" came Mathilda’s voice. "I’ll only pay half."

Tyler turned to see Mathilda, arms crossed, facing the very same shady vendors from earlier. One of them was holding up a shimmering black pipe and a pouch filled with glowing powder.

"Lady Boss, trust me," the man insisted. "Just one puff, and you’ll feel like you’re floating in dreamland. Master level, Elite level—our regulars include them all! Even a few Grandmasters, I swear!"

Alna’s jaw dropped. "Aren’t you going to stop her?!"

Tyler just waved a hand lazily. "Oh, leave her be. She’s probably not interested in using it. She’s just curious about the ingredients... maybe wants to study it."

Alna blinked. "She wants to study illegal drugs?"

"It wouldn’t be the first time," Lily muttered under her breath.

Alna thought they were righteous Merchants. But she didn’t except they are also show interest in this stuff. Well she really didn’t care. Her mom ordered her to take care of the group.

Meanwhile, Mathilda continued to haggle, poking at the product with a stick and demanding proof of authenticity. The vendors, a little intimidated but also eager to make a sale, tried their best to impress her.

But still Alna rubbed her temples. "I think you guys might be more chaotic than the island itself."

"Probably," Lily said with a chuckle.

Tyler stepped back outside the shop and looked around. The island was alive with noise and color—music from flutes and drums echoed through the streets, the clinking of coins mixed with laughter, and the occasional shout of a hawker offering a "once-in-a-lifetime deal."

Despite the island’s darker elements—slavery, drugs, pirate presence—it had a strange, surreal charm to it. Like a circus hiding knives behind its painted smile.

"This place is kind of fun," Tyler remarked, his eyes scanning the vibrant, chaotic streets filled with clashing colors, street performers, and bizarre architecture that looked like it came straight out of a fever dream.

"Isn’t it?" Alna replied with a wry smile. "At least they don’t fight openly in the market or on the streets. That’s the unspoken rule around here. But if the Circus Group spots us doing anything even slightly suspicious... well, it won’t matter who’s in the wrong. They’ll take everyone involved straight to the Tent."

"The Tent?" Mana echoed, raising an eyebrow. "What happens in the Tent?"

Alna’s face went pale. She lowered her voice and leaned in closer. "Two things. Game Arena... and the Time Pass Room."

Tyler and the others exchanged confused glances.

"That doesn’t sound so bad," Mathilda said, folding her arms.

Alna shook her head quickly. "Those names are just sugarcoated. It’s a ’Game Arena’ only for the spectators—mostly tourists and twisted nobles looking for entertainment. For the people taken inside? It’s a death trap. And the ’Time Pass Room’? It’s a nightmare. A place where Circus members pass time in their own twisted ways using... captives."

The group went silent. Even Darla, who usually had a snarky retort, simply clenched her jaw.

Alna continued, her voice trembling slightly. "My mother used to tell me stories about the Tent. She warned me never to attract the Circus Group’s attention. If someone survives both rooms, it’s nothing short of a miracle."

The ominous warning hung in the air, dampening the earlier cheerfulness. After a few quiet moments, Tyler clapped his hands lightly. "Alright. Let’s not dwell on that. We’ll visit the Tent later—when we’re ready. For now, let’s explore the island."

They left the shop, having bought a few rare items—alchemical herbs, strange coins from sunken ruins, and even a glowing, ever-Thunder pearl that caught Lily’s interest. Mathilda rejoined the group soon after, carrying a suspiciously bulging bag with an innocent grin. She quickly tucked it away into her storage ring.

"Don’t ask, ok?" she said before anyone could question her.

As they moved through the marketplace, they passed booths filled with exotic pets, fortune tellers reading fate through smoke, and weapon stalls selling enchanted blades with names like Soul Bleeder and Whisper Fang. The air was thick with spices, incense, and the distant laughter of mechanical clowns spinning in circles.

But what they didn’t notice—at least not yet—was the growing attention they were attracting.

A group of men stood casually near a food stall, seemingly uninterested in anything. But on closer inspection, their bare arms bore the mark of a painted clown face.

They watched Tyler’s group carefully, their eyes lingering on Lily’s confident stride, Mathilda’s energy, Mana’s calm aura, and Darla’s composed presence. These weren’t ordinary tourists, that much was clear.

The group had yet to realize that trouble was quietly brewing around them.