Just like that, looking at the remnants of battle left on the ground, images of that slashing blade and the clashing parry automatically surfaced in his mind... Han Qingyu suddenly felt an urge to fight a battle right here on this street of the Third District.
Preferably against an opponent strong enough, and on their person, there absolutely had to be a metal block or a Bone of Eternal Life... If it was source energy blocks, there would need to be at least several hundred, or two hundred at the bare minimum, or else it wouldn't be worth the trouble.
Of course, he only entertained the thought in his head without saying it out loud. For now, at least, they were still keeping their heads down and playing it safe.
"Hey, knife-shaved noodles." Catching the scent before even seeing the storefront, Han Qingyu turned his head and spoke with pleasant surprise.
The streets of the City of Iniquity were far livelier than they had initially imagined. This brutal city had commerce all the same, with storefronts lining the street almost entirely open for business, encompassing all kinds of shops.
Qian Daofeng and Ao Yong had mentioned that shop rents here were exorbitant, yet they were definitely profitable all the same. The real problem lay in qualifying to pay that rent—and there was only one way to earn that right: by fighting for it.
Therefore, under no circumstances should one provoke those shopkeepers; every single one of them was formidable, or backed by someone who was.
The noodle shop owner also had Huaxia features. Lean yet wiry and tough, he stood bare-chested at the shop entrance with an apparatus and a blade strapped across his back, shaving noodles into a boiling iron pot using a dead iron war blade...
When their eyes met, the man showed no warmth, making no move to welcome guests inside.
Wen Jifei braced himself to ask the price, only to return looking thoroughly deflated. Five bowls, five hundred US dollars! "Is this damn stuff made of human flesh?!"
"Human meat is cheaper than this. If you want that, thirty a bowl, and I'll go make it," the noodle-shaving owner said coldly behind them.
Here, human flesh was far easier to obtain than beef—far, far easier. Food, clothing, shelter, and transport in this city were all controlled by the people on the assassin rankings.
Smuggling meant death.
The five turned away dejectedly and continued walking forward.
Among the diverse faces visible on the street, nearly everyone carried a source energy apparatus and dead iron weapons. Shop owners carried them, loitering men carried them, and women carried them.
An elderly man of perhaps seventy hobbled past with labored steps, an apparatus and blade slung across his back.
A tall mother cradled an infant to her chest, openly nursing while hurrying through the crowd, also bearing an apparatus and a blade on her back.
"I've finally noticed something. On this whole street, they're probably the only ones not carrying an apparatus or weapons," Wen Jifei said out of nowhere, turning his head to gesture toward a shop along the curb.
The other four looked back; three quickly whipped their heads back around.
Only Zhu Jiaming stood there gazing openly, thinking to himself: *A bunch of brats...*
It was an establishment for men's entertainment. Standing outside the doorway were women of various skin tones, ranging from their teens to their thirties. Whether voluptuous or slender, their figures were accentuated to display every curve. They wore garments of peculiar cuts made of gauze or mesh... leaving almost nothing to the imagination, or covering just enough to be even more alluring.
They smiled warmly, calling out invitations.
This was a scene none of them—Han Qingyu, Wen Jifei, He Tangtang, or Wu Xu—had ever witnessed before.
Wen Jifei had only seen pictures in magazines and books.
Han Qingyu had only seen snakes with snakes.
Wu Xu had seen dogs with dogs. He had been little back then; during a routine training session where the Yu clan unleashed a pack of dogs to maul them, two of the dogs had suddenly run off to the side to fool around. At the time, he and his young companions had been utterly bewildered.
He Tangtang, on the other hand, had actually seen the neighbor uncle and aunt, but that night had been too dark.
"If Young Master Shiheng were here, we probably wouldn't be able to hold him back," Wen Jifei remarked.
He Tangtang: "Yeah." *Man, I miss him.*
"Young Prince, Young Prince... let's go!" Han Qingyu called out several times to no avail, and finally had to step forward and drag Zhu Jiaming away by force.
Zhu Jiaming followed reluctantly, craning his neck back repeatedly as he muttered in grievance, "In a foreign land far from home, we finally found a place that brings peace of mind, a few people who can bring comfort... They're being so open and baring it all, and you won't even let a guy look."
"What, the Young Prince has a taste for black and white too? Is it your first time seeing them as well?" Wen Jifei teased with a grin, then asked with genuine curiosity.
"Huh? Ha, what does this count for!" Zhu Jiaming waved his hand dismissively, instantly puffing up with regal poise. "Back in the day, stuff like this would be on the tribute lists from foreign vassal states to our imperial clan."
At the end of the street stood the tallest building along the row of storefronts, with a signboard and a price list hung outside the metal block refining workshop.
Han Qingyu bit the bullet and stepped forward to inquire in his broken English. After wrangling through the conversation, he learned that the refining fee was roughly between twenty and thirty percent, depending on whether any discounts applied.
Wen Jifei: "That's brutal exploitation."
Han Qingyu: "Yeah."
"What are you thinking about?"
"Thinking that I need to study English properly."
"Yeah. Actually, once we can bring Rusty Sister out, it'll be fine. Next time we can let Wu Xu hold down the fort at home—after all, there are full armors on this street too. Or Zhe Qiuhong would work, too." Wen Jifei paused, then added, "Anything else? Can you reverse-pour the source energy out of a metal block yet? If you could..."
Lowering his voice, he stared at Han Qingyu as though looking at a mobile refining workshop. "You could just pull up a chair and set up a roadside stall for business."
Han Qingyu shook his head. For now, he couldn't do that with metal blocks; he could only absorb and reverse-pour from blue crystal blocks. Even then, he wouldn't dare reveal it for the time being.
And so, after lingering outside the refining workshop for a bit, the group turned back, obediently staying within the Third District.
Their first outing went without any incident.
The next day, when Han Qingyu stepped off the truck, he told Qian Daofeng that he wouldn't need to pick them up after work—they could make their own way back.
On the third day, they started chatting about their hometown with the noodle shop owner. Zhu Jiaming inquired about the prices at the entertainment parlor and decided he had better work hard on his English and find a girlfriend instead.
On the fourth day, around dinnertime at the dining table, Ao Yong suddenly tilted his head back and downed a mouthful of water with a grim intensity, as if knocking back a cup of strong liquor.
The cup slammed down with a clatter.
Everyone eating at the table looked over at him.
"Why don't you guys go out and find some jobs?!" Ao Yong said, seemingly summoning every ounce of resolve he possessed.
It had been four days—he really couldn't hold out any longer; he was on the brink of bankruptcy! What was with this bunch anyway? Were they on vacation? Taking a trip to stay at a relative's house?!
"Sure," Han Qingyu replied calmly across the table.
"Sure... really?" Ao Yong hadn't expected him to agree so readily.
"Yeah. Could you help introduce us?" Han Qingyu asked.
"We can," Ao Yong nodded vigorously, his excitement showing. "No problem at all. We just can't get you into public service jobs. Private employment shouldn't be an issue, right? It might be a little dangerous."
"That's fine." Han Qingyu swallowed a mouthful of rice and looked up. "Also, while you're at it, could you ask around for some side gigs..."
"Side gigs?" Ao Yong froze for a moment. "Doing what?"
"Teaming up with people to chop Great Spikes," Han Qingyu said.
Chapter 428