The Deal

After reviewing the recommendations above, Chen Chuan noticed the final, critical remark. "Estimated success rate for reaching the third limit: 35%..." He pondered it. A chance greater than one-third didn't seem low, but it wasn't particularly high either. However, this conclusion was drawn based on his demonstrated physical baseline without factoring in the Furnace Breathing Technique. If he included the Furnace Breathing Technique, plus the Second Self capable of absorbing pharmaceutical damage, the success rate would undoubtedly be higher. Still, he wouldn't brush aside these recommendations. If there was a way to improve his original body, he naturally didn't want to miss out on it. "Phototherapy-assisted training..." This was another term he had never heard before, so he searched for it and quickly got results. This light was known as "radiant light," a form of bioluminescence emitted by certain peculiar creatures. In Center City, it was currently harvested from a unique species of deep-sea fish. Accessing this resource also cost money; checking the fees, he saw it started at a minimum of four figures per hour—exorbitantly expensive. Catching them on his own wasn't an option either. These creatures were not schooling fish; they required specialized breeding environments and medicinal feeding to be brought together in numbers sufficient for use. An ordinary person couldn't possibly manage that. And that was merely the public listed price. Because supplies were limited, even those willing to pay had to wait in line, with no guarantee of getting a slot. Chen Chuan felt that this was out of reach for him right now, so he set it aside for future consideration. Overall, this entrance evaluation had been well worth it. The targeted advice made him aware of his shortcomings and the areas he needed to work on. As for training on his own rather than following the recommendations... He searched through the system, and a dense list of recommended courses instantly popped up on the interface. The programs were meticulously itemized, offering corresponding training regimens for each mutated internal organ. Whenever he closely examined a specific program, the details beneath showed an estimate based on his evaluation scores: the expected number of days required to practice it, the medicines consumed along the way, and the potential results achieved. It was all laid out clearly at a glance. Since this was built upon extensive datasets, it might even be somewhat better than the empirical judgments of certain instructors. Yet that didn't mean instructors were useless. When it came to actual practice, these assessments could never replace personal teaching by word and deed; that kind of profound insight and nuance could only be understood by someone who had truly walked the path. However, these training methods didn't suit him. They all started from a single isolated piece of mutated tissue and delved deeply into that specific part, whereas he practiced the Zhouyuan Jin technique, which emphasized comprehensive balance and treating the body as an integrated whole. Scrolling further down, he noticed that the academy also offered consultation and advice to fighters outside the school, such as several fixed learning templates with every step, detail, and even medication dosage clearly annotated. That way, a fighter only had to follow the template. As long as one's natural constitution wasn't terrible, the ceiling wouldn't be very high, but the floor wouldn't be too low either. Here, he noticed a section discussing special training considerations for transplanting mutated tissue. His gaze paused slightly, and he quickly switched screens to look into it. So-called mutated tissue transplantation meant grafting mutated tissue from other fighters onto oneself to broaden the coverage of one's mutated tissues. Although the efficacy couldn't match native tissue developed from one's own body and carried certain sequelae, it could indeed make up for deficiencies in certain fighters' cultivation. A note at the end specified that this could only be performed within legal limits; unauthorized transplantation violated government and corporate regulations. He shook his head. Though strictly regulated by law, the very existence of such technology spoke volumes. Swiping that away, the final priority of his search was pharmaceuticals—the part he cared about most. Looking through the listings, he found that every drug carried a corresponding price tag. None were free; the complimentary quota provided at Yangzhi Wuyi Academy did not exist here. Although the price for a single dose didn't look overly high, once quantities added up, it would amount to an enormous sum. He thought it over. He was not someone blessed with innate talent and required far more medicine than others. Even if he had the financial means to purchase it, having records on file posed another problem. According to academy regulations, students were forbidden from reselling pharmaceuticals for profit on penalty of expulsion. If his drug purchases exceeded normal amounts several times over, he would have to provide a reasonable explanation. By then, he would inevitably be subjected to tests and examinations within the academy to verify his claims, which would be extremely troublesome. He had no wish to expose the true state of his body. At that moment, a prompt popped up on the interface: "We noticed you tend to view lower-priced pharmaceuticals. If your funds are insufficient, we offer loan services. Students may select from the following..." Chen Chuan shook his head and swiped it away without a second thought. Still, the matter of medicines truly needed a solution... Any attempt to obtain drugs through official channels would leave a paper trail, so that wasn't an option. But earlier, he had noticed the official regulations in Center City prohibiting the private sale of pharmaceuticals. Where there was prohibition, there was bound to be a market. Nor could it ever be completely stamped out, or the law would be meaningless. That meant he could likely find a way in through other channels. The prices would certainly differ, but purchases wouldn't be tracked. He considered his finances. He had saved a fair amount of money before, but it couldn't withstand this kind of burning through. He needed to find a way. In fact, there was another real option—such as... urban legends. If such things existed in Center City, he might be able to use esoteric rituals to capture them and turn them into resources for his cultivation. With that thought, he switched interfaces and searched for things like urban legends. Although nothing was explicitly labeled as such, he quickly noticed several suspicious incidents linked to related commissions. However, when he tried to look deeper, a prompt informed him that this involved specialized business; he needed commissioner status or backing from a commissioner company to gain clearance. Checking further, he saw that as a student of Wuyi Academy, he could directly register as a commissioner simply by paying a fee. However, carrying out commissions still required dealing with clients, various regulations, and taxes. An individual commissioner would need a dedicated solicitor to handle those matters. Alternatively, he could affiliate with a commissioner company, which would take care of all the trivial affairs, allowing the commissioner to focus solely on the job. But without the status of a senior commissioner recognized by Center City, most of the earnings would be siphoned off by them, amounting to working for someone else. Seeing this, he was reminded of Gao Ming. Gao Ming had mentioned before that he would be coming to Center City soon after, so now seemed like a good time to call and check on his progress. He picked up the receiver and dialed a number. Before long, the line connected. Chen Chuan said, "Gao Ming? It's me. I'm already at the Center City Main Academy. How are things on your end?" Gao Ming's chuckling voice came through the receiver. "Cousin, as I said, the moment you entered Center City was when I would truly begin demonstrating my worth. I've already received an offer from a law firm in Center City to join them as an independent solicitor. Once the paperwork is settled in a little while, I'll be heading over." Hearing the news, Chen Chuan was happy for him. "That's wonderful. There happens to be something on my end where I could use your help." Gao Ming said, "Cousin, could you give me the details? I can prepare in advance." Chen Chuan gave a rough overview of what he had just seen. Naturally, he didn't mention that his primary goal was urban legends, framing it merely as a way to earn money. After listening, Gao Ming thought for a moment and said, "I've looked into commissions in Center City before. By the time I arrive and finish the formal procedures, it might be February. If you're in a hurry, Cousin, there's a temporary workaround you might use before I get there." "What kind of workaround?" Gao Ming said, "Since urban legend commissions aren't classified under a separate specialized category from other requests, you could find a commissioner you trust—or someone you can keep under your thumb. Partner with them under the table. They take the commissions, and the two of you split the payout privately. It benefits them as well." Chen Chuan immediately caught on. Commissioners like that were certain to have channels to bypass their companies for moonlighting. Partnering with someone like that would circumvent all those complications. Provided, of course, that one had no fear of being double-crossed. A certain person came to mind. "Thanks, Gao Ming," he said. "Don't mention it, Cousin. Just call if anything comes up." After finishing the call with Gao Ming, Chen Chuan set down the receiver and pondered the idea carefully. Meanwhile, in another part of the city, Old Qi drove into a place where ruined buildings stretched across his entire view. It seemed like a forgotten corner of the city. Creepers clung to crumbling walls; the ground was pitted with potholes and puddles; overturned roadblocks, thick overgrowth, and battered wrecks of vehicles littered the surroundings. This was no illusion. This was the territory of the Skeleton Gang. They refused to use any Yin-Yang apparatus, and they cultivated vast amounts of mutated algae here, effectively disrupting the local biological field and confounding Fumu's discernment. In reality, there were many such areas, large and small, throughout Center City. They were like countless holes punctured through a thin membrane, spaces beyond surveillance and control. But Center City's power structure dictated that, barring exceptional circumstances, the upper echelons wouldn't waste resources meddling with them. He didn't dare venture too deep. After driving in a short distance, he stopped, stepped out of the vehicle, stood beside it, and reached back inside to honk the horn. After a few honks, with a dull thud, a figure landed atop the roof of an abandoned car and squatted there. He wore a feathered coat and a skull mask over his face; the exposed skin was pale and withered, as though it hadn't seen the sun in a long time. As Old Qi looked around, figures wearing skull masks emerged or peered out from the ruined buildings on either side and the trenches below. Some raised crossbows and firearms, aiming directly at him. Quelling his slight nervousness, Old Qi slowly retrieved a circular metal disc from the car seat and held it high. "I brought what you wanted." He opened the disc, revealing fragmented chunks inside. Threads of red ran through them, faintly fluorescing. If Chen Chuan had been here, he would have recognized that it bore a striking resemblance to what he and Ren Xiaotian had acquired near Mount Jiao during his first trip into the wilderness. "Fresh goods." The Skeleton Gang member who had landed first on the car roof licked his lips and called out, "Pay him." Immediately, someone leaped down from above onto the roof of Old Qi's off-road vehicle, making Old Qi wince. The man snatched the metal disc from Old Qi's hands, inspected it, and tossed a metal canister to him. Old Qi hurriedly caught it and pried it open; inside were tightly packed stacks of cash. He snapped the lid back on at once and stowed it in the car. "Same deal as always: if you have goods in the future, bring them to us. We'll take as much as you've got." Old Qi nodded. Having said his piece, the man turned and jumped off the vehicle. Around them, the other Skeleton Gang members withdrew one by one, and silence returned to the surroundings, as though nobody had ever been there. Old Qi let out a breath of relief, got back in his vehicle, and slowly backed out. Once he drove out of the area and onto the main road, the sunlight falling across his car once more, he glanced at the canister of money and couldn't help breaking into a smile. Right at that moment, however, a flash of red light suddenly flared before him, and a warning blared in his ears: "Vehicle ahead, you have been detected entering an abandoned zone. Suspected of carrying an unknown virus. Halt immediately and submit to inspection and decontamination." His smile froze on his face.