As the saying goes, when people meet, it’s either deception or performance, and Chen Guan figured his acting wasn’t half bad.
“The guy in the hat said to hold your position and report anything on the radio. I heard something went down in the southeast corner and called in, but nobody answered. Baldie over there said to wait until dawn, so I waited.”
The woman didn’t respond.
The two people standing behind her at the door—one watching Baldie, the other watching the short-haired woman—had faces frozen cold, enough to send a chill.
“What did you do before?” the woman asked.
“Watched venues, moved cargo, took the occasional freelance job cleaning up anomalous beasts.”
“Where are you from?”
“The southwest.”
“How long have you been in Rustport?”
“Less than a month.”
“Who referred you here?”
“No one. I hung around the No. 13 Warehouse cluster for a few days, heard there was work, and came over.”
The woman shifted her gaze from him to Baldie.
“What about you?”
Baldie sat up straight, answering succinctly.
“I was at the northwest corner, never moved all night. After the southeast went silent on the radio, I asked if I should check it out. The team lead told me to stay put. Then nothing.”
“And you didn’t see anything either?”
“The northwest corner faces the outskirts of the warehouse complex. I had my back to the berths and cold storage. All I saw were the road out front and a few stray dogs.”
The woman then looked at the short-haired woman.
“South side corridor. I was there the whole time.” The short-haired woman’s reply was even shorter.
“Did anyone pass through your area?”
“No.”
The woman fell silent for a moment.
“Last night’s job wasn’t the work of ordinary people,” she finally said again, her tone flat.
“The cold storage door was torn open from the inside. Both guards are missing—no bodies, no trace. No signs of a struggle at the scene. No blood.”
“To pull that off, you’d need to be at least five tiers, and it’s very likely a spatial ability user.”
Chen Guan blinked behind his mask.
Spatial type, five tiers or above—that was a spot-on assessment.
Though… Chen Guan thought back. Earlier, he hadn’t been able to sense Guan Jinyue’s strength at all. He had no idea what tier she was now.
“You three are the only freelance workers from last night’s perimeter who survived. By the rules, if a job goes south, freelancers are either dismissed or dealt with. There’s no third option.”
The woman looked at Chen Guan. “You said you’re a summoner.”
“Yeah.”
“Where’s your beast?”
Chen Guan tilted his head, his gaze landing on Leopard.
Leopard was lying nearby, chin resting on its paws, its violet eyes half-lidded like a sleepy big cat.
The woman’s gaze swept over the cheetah, lingering briefly on its purple fur.
“A variant?”
“Yeah.”
“What tier?”
“Third tier.”
“What’s its ability? And what’s your level?”
“It’s got some spatial ability. As for me, I’m a bit over third tier—almost at fourth.”
Chen Guan was trying to play weak. That level was decent for an eighteen-year-old student, but nothing special for someone He Chenguan’s age, since eighteen to twenty-two was a golden period for rapid growth.
She didn’t press further on the tier.
“The freelance jobs you’ve taken before—what levels were they?”
“Mostly low-tier, occasional mid-tier anomalous beast cleanups with a team. Nothing too tough.”
After listening, the woman briefly looked away, glancing at one of the people at the door.
The man gave a slight nod.
She turned back to him.
“How much do you want to earn?”
The question came out of nowhere, making both Baldie and the short-haired woman tilt their heads slightly.
“Depends on the job,” Chen Guan replied without naming a price.
“If there’s a steady gig—longer-term, three times the pay of freelance work—would you take it?”
“What’s the job?”
“Still watching a venue.” The woman’s lips curved just a little. “But a different place. You’d need to stick with us for a while and handle some matters more important than last night’s.”
Hearing that, Chen Guan already knew where this was going.
Guan Jinyue had unintentionally done him a favor.
What a good person.
Chen Guan looked down at Leopard sprawled at his feet, went through the motions, and reached out to stroke its head, like he was consulting his beast.
“Alright.”
Chen Guan agreed.
As for Baldie and the short-haired woman, they were dismissed by the woman, though she gave them some cash. They didn’t linger and left promptly.
Whether they actually made it out safely was none of Chen Guan’s concern.
The woman told him her name was Wang Dan.
Wang Dan led Chen Guan out of the No. 13 Warehouse cluster, taking a route different from the one he’d arrived on. They walked through several rows of abandoned factory buildings, turned two corners, and finally exited through a steel door that someone had cut open with a welding torch. Outside sat a gray box truck.
“Get in.”
Chen Guan opened the back door. Leopard jumped in first, and he climbed in after.
The truck bed was lined with a moisture-proof mat. A few empty iron crates were stacked in the corner, smelling of engine oil mixed with disinfectant.
Wang Dan sat in the passenger seat without looking back. The truck started moving.
About forty minutes later, the truck stopped.
Chen Guan climbed out of the back. Before him stood a three-story concrete building, its outer wall painted a faded white. The windows had iron bars, and several rusty antennas stuck up from the roof.
“This is a transfer station,” Wang Dan said, stepping out of the passenger seat and standing in front of the building. “You’ll stay here temporarily. Future jobs will be dispatched from this location.”
Chen Guan scanned the surroundings. To the left was a narrow alley, and to the right, a wall. Beyond the wall, he could see the silhouettes of a few crane arms—still within the port area, but a good distance from the docks.
Without giving him more time to observe, he followed her up to the second floor, down a dimly lit hallway, and stopped at a room at the end.
Wang Dan pushed the door open. Inside was much better than the sheet-metal room at the No. 13 Warehouse cluster—at least it had a window, a decent desk and chair, and the cot had been replaced with a single iron-frame bed with a thin mattress.
“You’ll stay here.”
Chen Guan walked in. Leopard followed, circled the room once, and chose a spot by the window to lie down.
Wang Dan stood at the doorway without entering, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe.
“This time, I’ll be upfront too.” She uncrossed her arms, reached into the inner pocket of her trench coat, and pulled out a palm-sized iron box, placing it on the desk.
“Inside this box is a demon core.”
Chen Guan glanced at the iron box but didn’t reach for it.
“A fifth-tier mizuchi demon core, perfectly intact.”
Chen Guan blinked behind his mask.
He knew about mizuchi demon cores. They sold for an absurd price on the black market—not because of the tier, but because mizuchi themselves were incredibly rare.
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
rowess are unmatched, commanding a million-strong army! Yet, the Emperor wants to depose him for the sake of a false prince? Hold on, are you throwing me into some female-oriented romance plot? How can I tolerate this? With a grand wave of his hand—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! Slander the Emperor? Very well, all of you shall die! ... The False Prince: "Although I am not the biological son, Father and Mother love me more. The throne should be mine!" The Female Lead: "Qin Xiao, you are the Emperor, and I am a commoner. If you wish to marry me, you must abdicate. Otherwise, you will never have me!" The Empress: "After we divorce, you must give me half the empire!" The Transmigrator Consort: "You worthless Emperor, why should I kneel to you? All men are equal—I advise you to be kind!" The Great General: "The enemy general is my childhood sweetheart. For her sake, I willingly abandon the frontier defenses!" The Retired Emperor: "Although Yu'er was adopted, I prefer him. Qin Xiao, you should abdicate and let him become Emperor!" ... Very well! So this is how you want to play? Facing this twisted world of female-oriented tropes, Qin Xiao grins and raises his hand to unleash—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! I am the Emperor. Why would I bother reasoning with you? Seal the gates! Leave none alive!
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
