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{Chapter: 76: Gregg's Tavern}
Wandering the bustling streets of the abyssal city, Dex maintained a low profile.
He neither provoked anyone, nor did anyone dare to provoke him.
Despite the chaotic reputation of abyssal realms, the streets here almost resembled the wide, noisy avenues of a mortal metropolis.
If one could ignore the occasional duels to the death happening in dark alleyways or even in the middle of the road, this place might have even seemed... civilized.
As Dex casually walked down the broad, cracked streets, he passed by countless strange lifeforms, each wrapped up in their own businessâtrading, brawling, whispering deals in shadowy corners. The air smelled of sulfur, sweat, and the faint coppery scent of blood.
Suddenly, two towering figures blocked the narrow path ahead, bellowing curses in a harsh language before engaging in a brutal fistfight. Fists, claws, and jagged teeth clashed as they rolled across the ground, oblivious to everyone else.
Dex gave an annoyed sigh and, without slowing his pace, delivered a lazy kick.
The two battling creatures were instantly launched hundreds of meters away, crashing into a row of decaying stone buildings with a thunderous boom.
Dust and debris rained from the impact, causing nearby demons to glance up brieflyâthen, seeing it wasn't their business, they quickly resumed their affairs.
Admiring the scene, Dex grinned and murmured to himself, "What a harmonious place. Tens of thousands of beings on this street, but only a few hundred fighting. It's so peaceful it barely feels like the Abyss at all."
He continued his leisurely stroll, hands tucked into the ragged black cloak hanging from his shoulders, his sharp eyes drinking in the sights.
"Hello, hello!"
A shrill, oily voice suddenly called out from behind him, jarring Dex from his thoughts.
He turned, raising an eyebrow, and looked down at the source of the interruption.
Standing before him was a bizarre creature, barely reaching Dex's chest in height.
It had green, rubbery skin, a body shaped like a cracked egg, four stumpy legs, and two thin, jittery arms. Sparse tufts of white hair sprouted from its scalp, and dozens of small mismatched eyes blinked independently across its body, giving it a grotesque, twitchy appearance.
Ugly.
That was Dex's first thought, blunt and without mercy.
Ugly butâŠunique.
That was his second thought, after a moment's appreciation for the sheer commitment to asymmetry the universe must have had in creating such a thing.
The little creature wrung its knobby hands nervously and smiled a wide, toothy smile that looked anything but reassuring.
Dex tilted his head slightly, intrigued. "What's the matter?" he asked, his voice calm but carrying an undertone that warned against wasting his time.
The creature licked its dry lips and pointed frantically at the two unconscious fighters Dex had sent flying moments earlier. "Uh, excuse me, mighty lord! Do you still want those two guys?" he asked, his voice eager like a street vendor selling wares.
Dex glanced lazily in the direction of the crumpled bodies, still twitching faintly amidst the rubble.
With a dismissive wave of his hand, he replied, "No. They're garbage."
The little creature's face lit up with uncontained joy. His excitement was so palpable that Dex could almost feel it vibrating through the air.
"Thank you, great one!" he gushed, bowing repeatedly.
Without another word, he scampered toward the bodies, moving with surprising speed for his awkward frame. In a few quick, brutal motions, he snapped their necks with sharp, practiced movements, slung their bodies over his back, and trotted away like a merchant who had just struck gold.
Dex watched the scene unfold, an amused smirk playing on his lips.
"Honest fellow," he chuckled to himself. "Even picking up garbage, he has the decency to ask permission first."
Continuing his stroll, Dex's attention was soon caught by a building to his right.
Its exterior was battered and patched with mismatched stone and metal, but a large sign swung creakily above the entrance.
[Grieg Tavern]
The word "Grieg" had clearly been scratched in later, with uneven, jagged letters that overlapped the names of previous owners, now crudely crossed out.
The whole facade radiated the aura of a place that had changed hands far too oftenâand usually under unpleasant circumstances.
Dex paused in front of it, a glint of nostalgia flickering in his crimson eyes.
There was something fitting, something almost story-like about a tavern appearing at this stage of his journey.
In the stories he remembered from his past life, taverns were always the birthplaces of grand quests, dark plots, and unexpected encounters.
"The trigger points of countless legendary adventures," Dex whispered to himself, his grin widening. "It would be a crime not to go in."
Without hesitation, he pushed open the heavy, splintered doors and stepped inside.
The world changed the moment he crossed the threshold.
Instead of the grimy, dimly lit dive he expected, Dex found himself blasted with light and noise. Thousands of glowing orbs floated overhead, bathing the room in a warm, multicolored glow. Mechanical platforms drifted up and down in the air, each carrying a squad of dancers of every imaginable (and unimaginable) species, gyrating to the beat of thudding, alien music.
Hulking demons, sly-eyed warlocks, and mutant beasts crowded the countless tables, roaring with laughter, shouting over each other, gambling, fighting, drinking strange bubbling brews, and making shady deals and having sex and orgies.
Dex took a few cautious steps inside, feeling genuinely disoriented.
"This is... some kind of sci-fi disco nightmare..." he muttered.
He instinctively recoiled slightly as a group of dancing women twirled past him.
Their exoticâand frankly terrifyingâappearances strained even Dex's broad tolerance for the grotesque.
One had three heads, another had scales and wings, and a third resembled a giant caterpillar in a tutu.
Dex considered for a going out moment just turning around and leaving, but his stubborn curiosity won out.
"No way I'm leaving empty-handed," he said to himself firmly.
He wove through the crowd, ignoring the drunken jeers and brawls erupting around him.
Finding an empty chair at a chipped stone table near the far wall, he slumped down casually.
Without even glancing at the menuâor whatever passed for one in this chaoshouseâDex fished a soul crystal from a pouch at his side and tossed it across the bar counter.
The crystal skidded across the slick surface and came to a rest in front of a grizzled, one-eyed bartender polishing a filthy glass.
"Give me something to drink," Dex said lazily, "and keep the change."
The bartender, whose numerous arms moved with an uncanny grace, caught the soul crystal Dex tossed with a flick of one of his many hands. The gem gleamed faintly, its luster marred by the trace memories of its unfortunate former owner. Yet the bartender's smile was dazzling, perfect â a rehearsed masterpiece honed by years of surviving and thriving in a den of monsters and madmen.
'This is an asset donated by passers-by,' the bartender said to himself warmly, his many fingers expertly rubbing the crystal between them. "Though... I must say, the donation was in quite poor condition when it was made." His grin widened, revealing a row of sharp, metallic teeth polished to a mirror shine.
Dex simply chuckled at the remark and leaned back lazily in his chair. His crimson eyes gleamed with faint amusement. He made no further comment â he was no stranger to the ways of the Abyss. Life here was cheap, and possessions even cheaper.
"Please wait a moment!" the bartender said with a little bow that looked surprisingly elegant despite his grotesque form.
Without wasting time, the bartender busied himself behind the bar, plucking various dusty bottles and odd-shaped jars from shelves. Each vessel seemed to ooze a faint mist or glow dimly under the thousands of colored lights that hung like low stars from the ceiling. He poured the contents into a glass â thick, syrupy liquids of purple, green, and black â and stirred them with a thin bone rod, causing the mixture to fizzle and pop like molten lava.
A cup of vividly colored liquid was finally placed before Dex. The drink looked almost alive, with bubbles that burst and reformed endlessly across its shimmering surface. The scent it released was pungent â a mix of iron-rich blood, spiced herbs, and something eerily sweet like rotting flowers.
"Please enjoy your drink," the bartender said with a small flourish.
Dex leaned in slightly, inhaling deeply. His sharp senses immediately picked up on it: the blood of at least thirty different species, intermingled so intricately that it created a strange, alluring bouquet. There were hints of creatures he couldn't even recognize â some from dimensions he had never even think of stepping foot in.
Raising his glass, Dex took a slow, deliberate sip. The liquid slid down his throat like molten honey, heating his insides pleasantly. A strange, tingling comfort spread through his limbs, making his fingers twitch involuntarily.
A spark of genuine surprise flashed in Dex's mind. He wasn't expecting much â after all, most tavern drinks were just strong enough to knock out the weak and embolden the foolhardy. But this⊠this was crafted. Refined.
"It tastes good," he said, a rare note of honest approval in his voice.
The bartender beamed, bowing again. "As long as you are satisfied, dear customer."
Dex leisurely sipped his drink and let his gaze wander around the tavern. The establishment was a madhouse of sound and movement, packed to bursting with a vast array of creatures. There were winged horrors whispering in the rafters, lumbering giants in the corners arguing over the rules of some unknown dice game, and snake-bodied merchants haggling with insectoid warriors over vials of venom.
Surprisingly, only a small fraction of them â perhaps a fifth â were demons. The rest were exiles, outcasts, cursed beings who had found their way to this pocket of madness in the endless expanse of the Abyss.
Dex relaxed even further, kicking his feet up onto the battered table and folding his hands behind his head. He closed his eyes slightly, listening intently to the murmurs of conversation that flowed like a chaotic river around him.
However, after several minutes, his lips curled into a smirk of disdain.
Boastful lies, drunken fantasies, empty threats â the same dreary nonsense you could find in any back-alley watering hole, whether in a kingdom of men or the lowest pit of the Abyss.
*****
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