Three days later, Lincheng, Southern Suburb.
Bai Fan was looking down, adjusting her collar. Her black coat was wrapped tightly, and a Squirrel Daisy mask was fastened over her face.
The snow-haired girl hovering in midair circled around her, making smacking sounds with her lips.
“Dear little sister, what are you doing in this getup? Playing thief?”
Bai Fan didn’t look up. She kept adjusting her cuffs.
“The underground black market is full of all kinds of people,” she said. “I don’t want to casually expose my identity.”
The snow-haired girl didn’t respond. She drifted to the other side, looked down at the bulging little pouch at Bai Fan’s waist, then suddenly changed her tone.
“Are you really going to sell that Ethereal Crystal? Maybe it’ll come in handy later?”
“Nonsense.” Bai Fan fastened the last button on her coat, raised her head, and glanced at her. “If I don’t sell it, what am I going to use to pay off the debt?”
The snow-haired girl fell silent.
Her transparent eyes in midair stared at Bai Fan for a long moment before she spoke softly.
“Actually… you don’t have to pay off that debt, do you?”
Bai Fan froze for a second, then looked up at her.
Her expression was hidden beneath the mask, but the eyes that were visible showed clear surprise.
“You have to pay back what you owe,” Bai Fan said. “Isn’t that just common sense?”
“That debt wasn’t borrowed by you.” The snow-haired girl’s voice was very soft, as if she had been wanting to say this for a while. “No one forced you to repay it, except for that Master Mo who wouldn’t even spare a kid and said he’d chop you up to feed the fish. Did any of your parents’ other creditors ever come to your door demanding money?”
Bai Fan didn’t speak.
She knew what the other girl said was true.
Back then, when the creditors came knocking, they opened the door and saw only a child less than ten years old standing in the entryway. Most of them would freeze for a moment, then sigh and turn away.
No one had ever actually pressured her.
“Are you that morally upright?” The snow-haired girl’s voice carried a hint of indescribable emotion. “You never got any benefit from that debt, and now you have to bear it?”
Bai Fan lowered her head and was silent for a long time.
So long that the snow-haired girl thought she wouldn’t answer.
Then she lifted her head.
“I just,” she said, “want them to come back.”
“Huh?”
Bai Fan turned to look out the window.
The sky over Lincheng was always like this—gray and hazy, as if it might rain at any moment.
“I just want to clear their debts,” she said, speaking very slowly. “That way, if I ever see them again, I can say in a very casual tone—”
She paused.
“I’ve already paid off your debts. You can come back now.”
Silence.
The snow-haired girl stared at her. Something seemed to flash in those eyes.
“You’re actually a good kid,” she said, her tone carrying a hint of helplessness. “I really don’t know what to do with you.”
Bai Fan withdrew her gaze, patted the non-existent dust off her coat.
“Besides, even if we don’t talk about that, I’m short on Credit Points right now.”
Over the past three days, Da Gan had recovered well. He couldn’t stand staying in the hospital, so Bai Fan had taken him home.
She had also treated all the Blood Thirst Disease patients at Lin City Hospital. Lin Xincheng had transferred a consultant assistance fee over for that.
Although the amount was considerable, once you added up the hospital bills and the money for those creditors, the balance didn’t look too good.
Money—the more the better, of course.
Bai Fan gave the mask one last check, confirmed it was fastened tightly, and pushed open the door.
The wind outside rushed in, carrying the distinct dustiness of the Southern Suburb.
Half a day later, Eastern Suburb, Lincheng.
The entrance to the Underground Black Market was hidden behind an abandoned flea market. It was inconspicuous, even a little shabby.
If you didn’t know the place, you’d probably just think it was the back door of some warehouse.
Bai Fan stood before the entrance, her black coat wrapped tightly, the mask on her face looking somewhat comical in the dim light.
A man stood at the entrance, holding a scale, wearing a dusty apron that made him look like an ordinary vendor.
He looked Bai Fan up and down, his voice low.
“Boss, this is the back kitchen stock area,” he said. “Not everyone is suitable for entering.”
Bai Fan lowered her voice, making it sound a bit hoarse.
“Long out, four open. Caught some pets in the back hills. Need to swap out some parts here.”
That was the slang of the Underground Black Market.
Translated, it meant: she was from Thirteen Blades. The guild had fished some Skeleton Beasts out of the Void Rift and was planning to sell off their parts.
As she spoke, she pulled a wooden token from her pocket and handed it to the man.
It was the identification token of a Thirteen Blades member.
Although she never participated in the guild’s internal operations, having worked as a De-husker for Master Mo for so long, she was technically part of Thirteen Blades.
Being stabbed in the back by Master Mo and still using his name to get into the black market—Bai Fan found it pretty ironic.
The man glanced at the token, but his gaze didn’t stop there.
His eyes fell on Bai Fan’s wrist—pale, slender, and not at all matching the rough, desperate crew of Thirteen Blades.
“A woman?”
Bai Fan’s fingers tightened slightly.
She pulled her wrist back into the sleeve of her black coat, her voice turning cold.
“Spare me the chatter. If there’s nothing else, let me in.”
“Got it.” The man nodded and turned around as if to open the door.
But in that instant when his back was turned, his hand quietly slipped inside his inner lining, reaching for the hilt of a dagger.
A chill pressed against him from behind.
Something cold and hard pressed against the back of his neck—a sharpened Steel Bar.
“I said,” Bai Fan’s voice came from behind him, as casual as if she were discussing something trivial, “you wouldn’t mind if the inspectors tomorrow found an extra corpse here, would you?”
The man’s hairs instantly stood on end.
“Haha…” He let out a dry laugh, his voice a little tight. “I wasn’t thinking anything. No need to trouble yourself here.”
He pulled his hand out of his inner lining, honestly fished out the key, and opened the door to the Underground Black Market.
Bai Fan withdrew the Steel Bar without giving him another glance.
The door slowly swung open before her, revealing a deep, dark corridor.
A damp, musty smell rushed out. The light seemed to be devoured by something the moment it reached there.
Bai Fan tugged the hood of her coat lower, pulling it tighter.
She glanced back at the man at the entrance.
The man stood there, his face frozen like it had been locked in place.
Over the past three days, she had purified those Blood Thirst Disease patients in the hospital and accumulated some Spiritual Essence.
According to “Jiejie,” every bit of Spiritual Essence strengthened her body, including her Perception.
For an ordinary person to pull a cheap trick in front of her was no longer possible.
Bai Fan withdrew her gaze and walked into the darkness.
The air was thick with a damp smell, like something had been stored underground for a long time and slowly turned moldy.
Bai Fan wrinkled her nose. Lately, her senses had become much sharper.
Scents she used to think nothing of now carried an indescribable discomfort.
The walls of the underground corridor had light bulbs embedded in them, but the lighting was poor, flickering like a bad connection.
Bai Fan walked forward from memory, passing stall after stall.
The atmosphere here was very quiet. Most people were like her, wrapped in raincoats, wearing masks, hiding their features tightly.
Occasionally someone would exchange words, but they only huddled together and whispered, their voices so low it was as if they feared being heard by something.
Bai Fan passed through the crowd of figures and finally reached the stall she was looking for.
The other stall owners were all wrapped up tightly, but this person was different.
He sat there openly, without any concealment.
Everyone called him Lao Hui, because his hair was a strange gray-white.
Bai Fan had always wondered how Lao Hui had the confidence to show his face in a place like this.
After her Perception awakened, she understood.
She could sense a twisted aura clinging to Lao Hui.
Many people had struggled and screamed in front of him. Those voices hadn’t dissipated; they had remained around him, becoming something invisible.
He was also a Sublimator.
Lao Hui seemed to sense something too. He looked up and smiled at her, showing yellow teeth.
“Looks like an interesting person showed up,” he said.
Lao Hui was known as a “Middleman.”
If you had goods but weren’t sure of their value, you came to him for an appraisal.
After the appraisal, he would give you a cryptocurrency you could use to continue trading in the black market, or exchange for Credit Points to spend outside.
Bai Fan lowered her voice. “Lao Hui, I’ve got a fairly pure Ethereal Crystal. I want you to do an—”
Before she could finish, her brow furrowed.
A large hand swept down from above her head, carrying a rough gust of wind.
“Damn it, get out of my way.”
Bai Fan sidestepped to dodge, turning her head. Behind the Squirrel Daisy mask, her eyes slowly emitted a cold light.
Standing behind her was a man wearing a wild boar mask, built like an iron tower.
When he saw Bai Fan dodge his hand and then caught those cold eyes staring at him, he rubbed his fists together and let out a low laugh.
“Heh, you’ve got some balls, kid.”
Bai Fan stared at him expressionlessly.
But deep inside, something was burning.
She would recognize that voice even if she were reduced to ashes.
Brother Feng.
Master Mo’s subordinate.
She had been looking for him for days.