Chapter 11

The three I just mentioned are still considered to be doing quite well. There are many other job changers who only hold a rough wooden stick, wear everyday clothes, and have leather thick shoes on their feet. It seems they haven't obtained any equipment yet. Poor kids.

I looked around at the job changers with great interest, and their gazes were also on me. There are only a few thousand job changers in the entire Rogue Camp, so even if we aren't familiar with each other, we all know each other's faces and names. Therefore, my appearance as a stranger, clearly another job changer, drew their attention.

The center of the camp is clearly cleaner and neater than the western district. Just the polished stone ground and the wooden houses, though still modest, are much better than the tents. There's even a huge fountain in the center. Indeed, special status comes with special treatment.

Most of the people moving around in the center are job changers. Over time, this place has become the default playground for job changers.

It's not that there's a sign outside saying, "No commoners or dogs allowed." Anyone can enter and leave, but think about it: most job changers are here. As a commoner, you would have to show humility to every job changer you meet, and you'd probably be bowing and scraping all the way. Besides, there's nothing here for commoners. Most of the items sold are for job changers' travels. What would a commoner be doing here? Drinking? There are plenty of bars in the western district, and the taste isn't necessarily worse. Broadening your horizons? Be careful, you might run into a job changer with a bad temper who could toss you into the Fallen Camp.

Soon, Doug and Gav stopped in front of a wooden house with more ornate decorations. I looked up and saw a sign that read "Rogue Bar." It seems that the drink Doug mentioned was here.

Following Doug and Gav inside, I was immediately greeted by a cacophony of noise. The place was packed, with a sea of people and a surging heat. Voices, arguments, boasts, and roars filled the air. The space inside the bar was vast, and after a moment, I could clearly perceive that, despite the lack of walls, the area was divided into several sections. The main area, taking up about three-quarters of the bar, was mostly occupied by Barbarians, with a few unique Paladins, Amazons, and Druids mixed in. They were drinking ale and making a lot of noise, boasting and arguing. This area was the source of most of the bar's chaos.

To the right of this chaotic area, a smaller section was occupied by Paladins, Druids, and Amazons. They were calm and composed. When they discussed, the Paladins were always meticulous, the Druids were gentle, and the Amazons were cold.

At the very back of the bar, it was the paradise of Sorcerers (Necromancers and Enchanters) and Assassins. Assassins prefer to live in the shadows, making this corner their best choice. The Sorcerers, silent and wise, always liked to think and occasionally discuss academic topics. This quiet corner was the perfect place for them.

"Damn, is it a holiday today? Why are there so many people?" Doug and Gav frowned, as the bar was almost full.

In the end, Doug and Gav, using their physical strength, managed to squeeze out a few seats in the first area. They kindly gestured for me to join them, but I immediately shook my head. In my old world, I didn't like bars because they were too noisy. Now, sitting next to the loud-voiced Doug would be insane.

Seeing my refusal, Doug didn't mind. He turned his head and listened carefully to the nearby conversations, quickly finding a point to join in. He immediately started a loud discussion with another Barbarian. His loud voice easily overpowered everyone else, like adding a high-powered speaker to an already noisy place. I secretly thanked my lucky stars for not joining them.

It seemed the second area was where I should be. Those polite Paladins would surely not refuse my request, and more importantly, there were old colleagues, the Druids, from whom I might learn something.

I turned to the right, but soon became disappointed. There were no seats available here either. I couldn't just barge in and squeeze onto a chair like the Barbarians. Sighing, I thought about leaving this smoky place, but I didn't know where to go. I looked toward the far corner, the domain of the Sorcerers and Assassins.

I didn't like Assassins; they were too cold. Unless I knew them well, I wouldn't sit next to them. As for the Sorcerers, heaven forbid, what common topics could I, a graduate of a third-rate university, have with these old scholars who had studied arcane magic for decades? Those academic discussions were more effective as lullabies to me.

But now, I had no choice. I could either leave or stay with them, or stand here forever. Ha, do you think I'm stupid?

Without much thought (though I had already stood there like an idiot for a long time), I walked to the far back.

As I passed the boundary between the second and third areas, I clearly felt as if I had penetrated a thin, fragile membrane. Suddenly, it was as if I had entered another world; the rough and angry voices outside disappeared.

One of the four Sorcerers at the farthest table, the oldest-looking one, suddenly turned and looked at me. He gave me a kind smile and nodded slightly before lowering his head to continue his discussion.

Impressive, I thought to myself. The membrane was clearly a soundproof barrier set up by the old Sorcerer. I had been detected the moment I touched the barrier.

I wasn't surprised by the existence of the soundproof barrier spell. After all, I'm not an idiot. With thousands of years of history on the Dark Continent, how could there only be the few skills in the game? Do you think those mad mages are just living for nothing?

What surprised me was that, according to Ral, besides the main skills that Sorcerers learn at certain levels, any Sorcerer who wants to use other skills must have a certain ability. Therefore, the old Sorcerer in front of me was either of a high level or had reached a considerable level of mastery and control over his spells.

Forget it, I can't aspire to such heights. I have no interest in flattering him. I looked around. There were only eight tables here, four of which were occupied by Enchanters. Although each table had empty seats, their deep and mysterious discussions made me wisely choose to ignore them.

There were two more tables with plenty of empty seats, but each had a skeleton sitting there. Oh, not skeletons, but two great Necromancers. Their gloomy appearance and faint aura of death clearly indicated they were not yet fully skilled. According to Ral, the most powerful Necromancers could turn the bones on the ground into undead and reanimate corpses into puppets wherever they went...

I immediately imagined a scene: on a former battlefield, countless bodies and skeletons lay on the ground in agonized, twisted poses, with rusted weapons scattered everywhere. The air was filled with the stench of decay and blood. A dark figure approached, shrouded in a large hooded black cloak, surrounded by a black aura, moving slowly without touching the ground. As he passed, the earth began to shift, and pale skeletons, some wielding axes, some holding longbows, some riding fierce bone horses in sturdy armor, and some in black robes with magical glows, slowly rose from the ground, straightened up, and raised their cold skulls to the sky, howling. Soon, the blood-soaked earth was covered in white...

OMG, what a stunning scene. Just thinking about it made my blood boil. It's truly amazing. Such a character could be a villain boss in Star Wars.

But even if these two Necromancers were not fully skilled, I had no habit of dining with them. No one wants to think about corpses and bones while eating.

Then, there were two Assassin uncles at another table, with cold, unwelcoming faces. They seemed to notice my gaze and looked at me, their cold eyes piercing through me as if I were just air, before continuing their silent discussion.

OMG, they scared me to death. I can't afford to offend any of these people.

So, I looked at the last table.

One person. Great, there's an empty seat!

Young. Great, we can have a common topic.

Seems to be a girl. Great, maybe we can have a deeper conversation.

This table seemed tailor-made for me, like a passionate beauty who had waited for eight million years to cross paths with me. However, the saying goes that there are three things to avoid in life: children, monks, and single women. These three types of people are best avoided, and the young female Sorcerer in front of me seemed to fit two of them.

But it's still better than the other tables, I thought, and slowly walked over...