He tilted his head. The demon core was precious to Chen Guan—he couldn’t come up with a second one—but to Beidou, it meant nothing. Right now, Beidou just wanted to get rid of Guan Jinyue and Baal as quickly as possible.
He figured he’d come up with some excuse, just to get it over with.
“Let’s round it up. A hundred thousand. You pay, the box is yours. I won’t ask a single question.”
From the black smoke came a barely suppressed snicker.
“Heh heh heh heh...”
Baal was genuinely amused.
He had witnessed gods negotiating the ownership of worlds. He had seen kings bartering over territories spanning thousands of miles. But never had He witnessed a scene like this.
A twelfth-tier awakener, one of the oldest humans still alive, was holding a broken hammer and, with all seriousness, trying to sell his own mission target to a wanted criminal worth ten billion.
And all for a few pieces of paper.
“Little Jinyue, did you hear that?”
Baal’s voice was dripping with schadenfreude.
“A hundred thousand for a demon core.”
“I’d say that’s a steal.”
“A win-win. This is absolutely a win-win.”
Guan Jinyue slid the gleaming longsword back into its sheath.
“I don’t have that much cash on me.”
She didn’t care whether the man with the broken hammer was an ancient monster or just some third-tier summoner. To her, as long as she could smoothly obtain the precious demon core of the Jiaoshen, spending a hundred thousand to avoid a fight to the death was the smarter choice.
“Mobile transfer works too. I’m not picky about payment methods.”
With remarkable ease, Beidou pulled an old smartphone from his dusty trouser pocket, deftly brought up his payment QR code, and held it out.
The white glow of the screen was blindingly conspicuous in the dim and wrecked harbor ruins.
Guan Jinyue stared at the square QR code for a good five or six seconds before pulling out her own communication device and scanning it.
“Your account has received 100,000 yuan.”
The mechanical system prompt rang out crisp and clear across the open ground. Beidou glanced down at the confirmation on his screen and nodded with great satisfaction.
“Pleasure doing business.”
He tossed the iron box casually toward the silver-haired woman across from him, with the careless air of someone discarding worthless junk.
Guan Jinyue raised her right hand and caught the flying box smoothly.
“Who exactly are you?”
She stored the iron box safely into her spatial storage and fixed her gaze again on the strange man who called himself He Chenguan.
“My name is He Chenguan. Just a bottom-rung freelancer who takes money and does jobs. I don’t care about who’s who, only about the cash.”
Beidou tucked the old phone back into his pocket, hoisted the dust-stained broken hammer back onto his right shoulder, and turned around, ready to head back the way he came.
“Stop pretending.”
The black smoke that was Baal drifted over, blocking his path.
“That clone you made with your ability? It might fool some inexperienced brats, but before Lord Baal, don’t bother with such cheap tricks.”
Beidou slowly halted his steps. Behind the mask, his unfathomable eyes calmly fixed on the constantly writhing black smoke.
“Are you going to force a confrontation here?”
“I don’t have the spare time to meddle in your affairs. I’m just a little curious—what level of being is this mysterious new leader of yours?”
Baal’s tone carried an unmistakable thirst for answers.
“Someone... I deeply respect.”
Beidou was silent for a long moment before giving his answer. Then he simply stepped forward, walked around the black smoke, and headed straight into the depths of the alley.
This time, Baal did not block him again.
Guan Jinyue stood beside the wreckage of the carriage, watching as Beidou’s figure gradually vanished into the night.
“I should go now.”
She said softly to the lingering black smoke, then turned and strode quickly toward the direction of the harbor gate.
...
Chen Guan ran for a full six minutes.
Baobao followed behind him, its violet eyes flickering in and out of the darkness. Its four paws made almost no sound, making it even quieter than Chen Guan himself.
The alleys of the harbor were narrow and deep, the ground riddled with cracks and rubble. Half of the streetlights were broken, and the remaining ones barely lit up the general outlines.
Chen Guan stopped at the third corner, leaning against a damp wall. He slowed his breathing and pricked his ears for over ten seconds.
No pursuers.
Guan Jinyue’s sword intent had a range of at least three hundred meters, but he had already left that area. Behind him, there was only the wind and the low hum of harbor machinery in the distance.
Baobao crouched at his feet, its tail curled, looking up at him.
Chen Guan patted its head and pulled out his phone.
When the screen lit up, he first checked the time: 4:19 AM. It had been less than half an hour since he got into the vehicle, but it felt like an entire lifetime had passed.
He sent a message to White Tiger, explaining the general situation.
White Tiger thought for a moment and said, “Since Beidou has taken full charge, you can head back to the academy first.”
Chen Guan, you work fast, White Tiger thought to himself, puzzled.
Chen Guan acknowledged the message, stuffed the communicator back into his inner pocket, and looked down at Baobao, who was licking its paws.
The cost of this tenth-tier demon core had turned out much lighter than he had expected.
For now, the mutated leopard at his feet, having gotten its full share of benefits, let out a yawn. It seemed like all it wanted was to find a place to sleep.
Chen Guan walked out of the small alley, the night wind making his clothes rustle loudly.
Since that was the case, it was time to go back to school and sleep. The rest, as White Tiger had said, was their business.
...
Time always passes quickly.
The opening day of Huaqing Academy arrived amid waves of noise and excitement.
Chen Guan was once again walking down the tree-lined avenue with that heavy, enormous coffin on his back. New and old students alike kept casting glances his way.
Geniuses from all over, returning to their schools, had inadvertently done him a small favor by spreading word about him. He was somewhat famous now.
Luckily, he had long grown used to such stares.
[Coffin Guy is still the brightest person in the crowd today.]
[It’s been a few days since we last saw him. Miss you, man. The recent daily episodes haven’t included our Coffin Guy.]
[The production team is deliberately isolating Coffin Guy.]
A few comments scrolled across his retina, all jokes from Earth’s audience.
But “isolating” was an exaggeration. If anything, it was he who was isolating everyone else.
“Chen Guan, this way.” A clear voice came from ahead.
An Changqing, dressed in a sharp academy uniform, stood under an old locust tree. He was smiling and waving at him.
This first-year class president always carried an aura that made people feel at ease, like a natural leader. It had nothing to do with strength—he was born to lead.
Standing next to An Changqing were Su Yuehe and Long Ao.
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!
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?!
ng to die together with you." Lin Xuan is dead, his body thrown into the river by his scumbag lover and her accomplice. She, the president of the Su Group, is decisive, ruthless, and ice-cold. For three days and three nights, she had his body fished out of the river, and without hesitation, she kissed the bloated corpse of Lin Xuan. She laid down beside him in a cold coffin, their fingers intertwined, a smile lingering on her lips as she closed her eyes. The noble and cold-hearted woman, only bending for one man—Lin Xuan. Lin Xuan, with his golden finger, is reborn and returns to the day of his wedding to the treacherous woman. Su Qiang comes to steal the bride. Lin Xuan's eyes light up, eager to pledge his loyalty on the spot, but instead, her kiss transfers a glass of drugged wine into his mouth, causing him to pass out... 【Male Protagonist with Single Female Lead】【Yandere Tycoon】【Action-Packed】【True vs. Fake Heir】
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.
