The Broken Halo

Simon stared at the shell for a few seconds after Yara told him the price.

Seventy six thousand eight hundred hell stones (76,800 hell stones) was a lot of money for a piece of rock, and Simon could imagine how much money the owner of the pavilion was making from the rock gambling business.

’Definitely a shit ton of money.’

Simon shook his head slightly after having this thought, then he finally responded.

"That’s not a problem. I’ll buy it."

Yara’s eyes flickered with surprise.

Seventy-six thousand eight hundred low grade hell stones was not an amount an ordinary Archfiend could casually bring out. Some demons worked for years without gathering that much wealth, yet Simon spoke as if she had told him the price of a meal.

She looked at his simple clothes again, then remembered the way Korran had spoken to him.

’His identity must be special.’

Yara wisely kept the thought to herself.

"I’ll take it," Simon said.

He did not ask for more information about the shell. The reaction from UnholyRegeneration was enough for him to gamble on it.

However, buying only this shell would be strange.

This was supposedly Simon’s first time rock gambling, yet he had walked straight to an ordinary-looking shell in a quiet corner and purchased it without hesitation. Anyone paying attention might wonder if he knew something about it.

Simon turned away from the pedestal and began inspecting the other abyss shells.

He did not rush. He lifted a few after Yara removed their barriers, checked their weight, tapped their surfaces, and read the information plates beside them. None caused a similar reaction or any sort of reaction in him like UnholyRegeneration.

After some time, he selected five more.

One was barely larger than his palm and had pale blue spots across its surface. Another was shaped like a crooked skull, though Yara assured him that the resemblance meant nothing. The third was round and covered in thin bronze-coloured lines.

The last two were larger. One reached Simon’s knee and came from a collapsed mine, while the other was a dark green shell recovered from an abandoned ruin close to a hell hole.

Simon had no special feeling toward any of them but he chose them as decoys.

Yara recorded each shell on a black plate. When she finished, several numbers appeared above its surface.

"The listed price for all six shells is two hundred and eighty-five thousand low grade hell stones," she said. "After Lord Korran’s discount, the total is two hundred and twenty-eight thousand."

Simon nodded without any visible reaction.

"How do I pay?"

"We use a counting formation for large payments."

Yara led him toward a small counter near the private rooms. A square black tray rested on it, and silver runes covered its edges. She placed the record plate beside the tray, causing the amount Simon owed to appear above it.

"You can transfer the hell stones from your spatial ring into the tray. The formation will count them and stop accepting stones once the payment is complete."

Simon placed his hand above the tray.

Low grade hell stones poured out of his spatial ring like a crimson river. The tray swallowed them before they could pile up, and the glowing number above it began falling rapidly.

Yara watched in silence.

Despite the sight, this was obviously not her first time seeing this.

However, she was inwardly surprised that Simon could pay such an amount.

Simon did not pause once, and his expression did not change as more than two hundred thousand hell stones disappeared into the formation.

A few seconds later, the number reached zero.

Hum!

The silver runes flashed, and a black receipt token appeared on the tray.

"Payment complete," Yara said, sounding even more respectful than before.

She handed the token to Simon, then gestured toward the shells.

"Would you like the pavilion to open them for you? Cutting fees are separate, but standard cutting is not expensive."

"How much?" Simon asked.

"For these six, seven thousand two hundred low grade hell stones altogether. The shell from the Dreadfall Sea requires more preparation because of its density."

Simon glanced toward the dark grey shell then he looked at some rooms where some demons were cutting their abyss shells privately.

"And if I want them opened privately?"

"A private cutting room costs thirty thousand low grade hell stones. That does not include the cutting fee."

It was not cheap, but Simon had expected that.

He looked at Yara.

"Why can’t I cut them myself?"

Yara chuckled softly.

It was not the first time she had heard that question. Demons visiting a rock gambling shop for the first time often believed cutting a shell was as simple as breaking a rock and wanted to save their money.

"You can try after purchasing them," she replied. "But abyss shells are not ordinary stones. Their layers are formed from demonic energy, pressure, and whatever environment surrounded them for hundreds or thousands of years."

She gestured at the sea-formed shell.

"Some are harder than Profound Artifacts. We have had customers leave because they wanted to cut their shells themselves, only to return days later because they could not leave a scratch."

Simon raised a brow slightly.

With the Chaos Blade and Chaos Flames, he doubted hardness alone would stop him. However, cutting through the shell was not his main concern.

The object inside was.

What if he damaged the object when attempting to cut it?

"How do your cutters open them?" Simon asked, wanting to know more.

"They begin by studying the shell’s grain, density, sound, and energy leakage. After that, the shell is placed inside a Resonance Cutting Array."

Yara pointed toward one of the private rooms.

"The array sends weak vibrations through the shell and reveals where the outer layers are thickest or weakest. It cannot show what is inside, but it helps the cutter decide where to begin."

She continued,

"Most shells are peeled away layer by layer with thin metal-element cutting threads. Dense sea shells are soaked in a softening solution first. If the cutter senses a change in resistance, energy, or sound, they stop and examine the shell again before continuing."

The process was not complicated to understand, but it required experience and patience.

A careless demon could cut too deeply, strike whatever was inside, or shatter something fragile.

Simon looked at the dark grey shell again.

"What assurance do I have that your cutter won’t damage the item?"

"It rarely happens on the third floor," Yara said. "The cutters assigned here are the pavilion’s most experienced. Some have been opening abyss shells for nearly a hundred years."

Simon remained silent, so she continued.

"If an item is damaged because of our cutter, the pavilion will appraise what it would have been worth without the damage. If we possess an equivalent item, we will replace it. If not, you will receive its value in hell stones."

"And if you claim it was already damaged?"

"The opening is recorded by the cutting formation from beginning to end. You will receive a copy of the record. If there is a dispute, an independent appraiser approved by both sides will examine it."

That was reasonable.

More importantly, Simon had no desire to open the Dreadfall shell where other demons could watch. If it contained something connected to the Fleshwood, allowing its existence to become public would only create trouble.

He looked at Yara.

"Use a professional cutter. I’ll also pay for a private room."