Having two Soul Abilities was unseen as far as the novel had explored but Nicholas didn't think it was impossible.
After all, there were already several people with higher grade Soul Talents than the protagonist.
Yes, the protagonist had an SSS Grade Soul Talent called Quantum Mirroring… flashy, powerful, exactly what you'd expect from the main character.
But he wasn't the most talented… The Trader was.
That bastard had an XS Grade Soul Talent that literally allowed him to trade anything from lifespan to memories to even Soul Talents. Nothing was off the table.
And he was human, unfortunately, he decided that setting Satan free was a reasonable life goal.
'Someone I absolutely do not want to meet yet,' Nicholas thought. 'That guy is a disaster walking. He might actually be the real final boss that the protagonist just never reached.'
But that was a problem for another day.
One of the benefits of having two Soul Abilities was the increased amount of Soul Slots.
Even someone who awakened a single Soul Ability automatically gained ten Soul Slots. The more talented ones—the ones with higher Talent grades or stronger souls—often had one to three more.
Nicholas had expected that two Soul Abilities would grant him twenty Soul Slots.
He only got fifteen.
He wasn't sure why. Maybe because of how he awakened it, Pride didn't count the same way or maybe the universe just liked messing with him.
But fifteen was enough… Hopefully.
***
Nicholas finished drying off and dressed in something simple… dark pants, a loose shirt. He stepped out of his room and made his way downstairs.
A maid was already in the hallway working. She looked up as he approached.
"Young Master," she said, bowing slightly. "Are you heading out?"
"Yeah," Nicholas said, slipping on his shoes. "Don't wait up."
"Would you like any assistance? Call a driver, perhaps? The streets can be… "
"I'll be fine."
She hesitated; he could see the concern flicker across her face… the kind of concern that came from working for a family long enough to actually care about the people in it.
"Should I inform Miss Penny?"
"Yeah." Nicholas grabbed his jacket from the hook by the door. "Tell her I might be gone for the night. Maybe longer. I'll be back when I'm back."
The maid nodded slowly. "Be safe, Young Master."
Nicholas nodded before walking out the door.
***
The vehicle hummed to life beneath him as he settled into the driver's seat.
Hover cars took some getting used to… there was no road resistance, no vibration, just smooth, silent floating that felt more like flying than driving. Thankfully the memory he gained from previous Nicholas helped him.
He programmed the destination into the nav system and pulled out of the mansion's gates.
The evening sky was painted in shades of orange and purple, the kind of sunset that made you stop and stare if you had the time to appreciate it.
Unfortunately, Nicholas didn't… he had somewhere to be.
Getting material for his first graft.
The first graft needed to be something simple. It had to be something he could easily do and live through even if it failed.
He wasn't stupid enough to start with something dangerous like dragon blood or daemon cores. That was endgame territory, that is even if he could get his hand on it.
Right now, he needed to test the waters… see how his body reacted, how Adapt handled the process and whether grafting was even viable for him.
The main reason he had chosen grafting in the first place was simple: that was his area of expertise and the technology in this world was advanced enough to allow it.
This world's technology especially medical technology—main focus of the world for several reasons—was far more advanced than his original world.
With the number of battles occurring—both from the Shattered Realm and on their own planet, Vale—this had been an inevitable path of progression.
***
Nicholas drove around for a while before reaching a public parking lot.
He parked the hover craft, killed the engine, and sat still for a moment, observing.
The lot was nearly empty with very few other vehicles sat scattered in the distance, with nobody paying attention to him.
'Good.'
He got down and pulled an oversized hoodie from the back seat. Then an item that looked like a cheap, white and featureless Halloween mask.
It was a common anti-appraisal mask that prevented appraisal skills or items from working on him… at least low-level ones.
It can be easily gotten with the right connections which his father surprisingly had.
He removed his terminal from his wrist and tossed it under the chair.
He pulled out a small wallet next. He flipped it open and nodded once he confirmed the required items where there, then he slipped it into his pocket.
He glanced around one more time before he slinked away.
***
With every corner he turned, his appearance changed. The hoodie went on first… then the mask and by the time he reached his destination, stairwell leading down, he was fully cloaked.
The stairwell led to an underground parking lot that smelled like oil and machinery parts.
Inside, he made his way towards a door with an emergency exit sign pasted above the entrance.
He opened it and stepped in. Normally such door should have led to a stair that went up but instead this one had a ramp that went down.
Seeing the design, he knew he was in the right place.
'The Black Market.'
It was everywhere. Every corner of Vale had one. Sure, they came in different sizes, different levels of danger… but there was always one, always operational, always willing to sell you something you weren't supposed to have.
This wasn't a mistake. No. No. No. The monarchs allowed it because it served a purpose.
If they didn't want places like this to exist, they wouldn't. Especially not in the capital of the Southern Monarch himself.
The Black Market handled the things that official channels couldn't—or wouldn't—and sometimes that was exactly what everyone needed.
Not to mention they paid fees.
So, they looked the other way and the market flourished.
***
Once you made it down the ramp and stepped through the first door on the right, the noise hit you.
Not the kind of noise you'd expect from an underground black market… There was no screaming, no fighting, no dramatic showdowns in dark alleyways. It was just the steady hum of hundreds of people talking, haggling and moving.
And the smell?
There was no smell.
The entire underground black market had clean air that was processed by a ventilation system that probably cost more than a lot of people made in their lifetime.
The walls were lined with well labelled stalls. Some large, some small, some just a table and a chair and a person who looked like they'd stabbed someone to get that spot.
Nicholas didn't care much for the ambiance.
He was here to shop.
According to his calculations, the one million credits in his savings should be more than enough to complete the first graft.
After that, though?
He definitely had to return to 'borrowing' money from others.
He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.
Glancing around, Nicholas spotted a stall with a board hanging above it: MEDICAL SUPPLIES in blocky letters.
Perfect.
It wasn't like he hadn't considered buying this stuff from a hospital or other reputable sources but most of the items he needed required licences that could not be easily gotten.
The stall was larger than the others… it had multiple tables, multiple staff members. Nicholas stepped forward with his eyes scanning the quality of their displayed items.
A woman approached him. She looked Professional and was neatly dressed with no mask on her face, which meant she either trusted the market's security or didn't care if people knew who she was.
"Respected customer," she said, her voice warm in that practiced, customer-service way. "How may I be of service?"