Chapter 88
In front of Clayton lay a pile of women’s clothing and undergarments—ranging in styles, all of them indecent. The moment he pulled them out, a foul odor filled the air, accompanied by sticky white stains.
Clayton recoiled in disgust, nausea rising in his throat as if his entire stomach was about to empty itself. He hastily shoved everything back into the spatial pouch. Only once the items disappeared from view did he finally exhale in relief.
"Disgusting! Those guys were seriously messed up," he muttered, visibly disturbed.
He had hoped to profit from looting the bandits’ belongings. Instead, it felt like he’d opened some kind of biological hazard.
Clayton took a moment to compose himself before moving on to the next pouch.
He opened six spatial pouches in total, but each one was just as disappointing. After sorting through eight altogether, he’d only collected around 500 low-grade mana crystals—far less than he’d hoped for.
With little expectation, he opened the ninth pouch—only to find it packed full of empty wine bottles. Hundreds of them.
Now it all made sense.
The stolen money hadn’t gone to treasures or gear. The gang had squandered it all on booze and women.
Whatever hope he had left vanished. He turned to the final pouch with no enthusiasm.
But this one turned out to be different. It held a few useful items: five hundred low-grade mana crystals, a mid-tier one-star healing salve—likely used by the one-handed pickpocket to treat his wounds—and several books.