Let Me Try

Zhuluoji. Since it was connected to this, Bai Zhou couldn't just turn a blind eye. Stopping in his tracks, he stood to watch. Someone was currently attempting to repair it. "Let me try." The speaker was a formidable high-ranking Extraordinary. Watching the surging, vibrant spirituality radiating from him, a glimmer of hope rose in the witch's heart. In the mystical world, a high-ranking Extraordinary wasn't necessarily an occult master, but an occult master would never be a low-ranking Extraordinary. Yet before long, accompanied by a low hum from the wand, the magic runes he had inscribed faded away on their own. The wand glowed, rippling with tremors. *Hummm—* The man cried out in alarm, forced back several steps by the dark-red ripples. "What a vicious wand!" The man shook his head with a grave expression. "Standard restoration formulas don't work at all. These are ancient magic runes I've never seen before!" Right then, a bystander chimed in, "So just how many kinds of magic runes have you actually seen?" "Uh—" The man was at a loss for words. "Failed again, sure enough..." A cloaked bystander sighed sympathetically to the witch seated behind the stall. "You've been coming here for a year straight, haven't you? Even I've taken note of a regular fixture like you. A whole year, and not once has anyone managed to restore the runes on this wand... I doubt you'll have any luck in the future either. Why not try selling it instead? I have—" Before he could finish, the cloaked witch looked up, casting a gaze toward him from afar. Burning spirituality flared for a split second. In that instant, the speaker felt a shuddering terror as though targeted by a primeval beast, alarms blaring endlessly from the deepest levels of his cells. Though the sensation vanished in a flash, by the time he came to his senses, cold sweat had already drenched his back. "If you can't help, mind your own business!" The voice was icy and gender-neutral, stiff and flat, yet carried an inexplicable weight of oppression. Evidently, the young witch had specifically modified it. "You..." The man stammered, drenched in sweat. In the end, without another word, he scurried off in disgrace, fleeing like a frightened stray. Watching his miserable retreat, the other onlookers also began to entertain thoughts of backing away. Right then, an aged voice sounded as an old man leaning on a walking cane slowly approached. "How about I give it a try?" *Tap, tap, tap...* The sound of his cane striking the ground arrived before he did. Though he also wore a black cloak, he hardly seemed concerned about concealing his identity. His voice was unmasked, and his exquisite cane carried identifiable traits. He wore an air of effortless composure and unfathomable depth. Beside him, two other black-cloaked figures flanked him on either side, upright and rigidly disciplined. Evidently, this elder possessed no small status. "Could he be...?" From these subtle traits, someone hazarded a vague guess at his identity. Yet that realization only left them all the more stunned and uncertain. "You don't think he's from the Armory, do you?" The hushed exchange reached Bai Zhou's ears. A flicker of curiosity stirred in his mind. The Armory... Which faction was that? A new term. It sounded like an official institution, perhaps one managing ordnance logistics... Yet what resources could someone from an organization like that possibly lack? What was he doing coming to a "sewer" like the ghost market? "Young fellow, you're in luck having run into me." Chuckling, the elder with the cane stepped closer. "It appears to be an ancient relic. My interest is piqued. Hand it over, let me take a look for you." His tone seemed gentle and genial, yet backed by supreme confidence and poise, it carried an imperious authority that brooked no refusal. Bluffed by his imposing bearing, the witch hesitated before handing the wand over. "...Then I shall trouble you, sir." One of the cloaked attendants stepped forward promptly, took the wand, and presented it to the elder with both hands. "...Hm?" Holding the wand to inspect it closely, the elder's casual demeanor gradually turned solemn. Because at first glance, he couldn't make heads or tails of it. On the other side, watching from a distance as the elder turned the wand over, Bai Zhou was able to get a clear look at the artifact's full appearance. The upper half of this fractured wand was waxed ebony, smooth and warm, capped by a crack-covered dark-red gemstone. The lower half was tarnished bronze, which extended for only a third of its length before snapping off abruptly. Judging by the taper of that bronze extension, however, one couldn't help but suspect... When intact, its lower half had likely been a sharp javelin. —The top half was a wand, and the bottom half was a throwable javelin? What kind of design was that? Such blatant "pragmatism" instantly reminded Bai Zhou of that pile of flashy scrap metal on the battlefield. The same style, cut from the very same cloth. Without even thinking, Bai Zhou knew there had to be a mechanism built into this wand! In a single glance, he spotted the raised button subtly inlaid into the ebony... In fact, Bai Zhou had good reason to suspect that the wand hadn't been snapped by external force at all. Someone had triggered the mechanism and fired the javelin, leaving only half behind! The other half might very well still be lodged in some old skeleton's skull. ...Right now, the elder was studying that very button with a puzzled frown, wondering what it was for. More and more people gathered around. Even in the mystical world, Extraordinaries were not immune to the universal human instinct to gawk at a spectacle. After a while, the elder produced an exquisite quill patterned with threaded grooves, while the person beside him brought out a box of pigment that shimmered with an occult luster. Dipping the nib into the ink, the elder began to draw along the wand's broken patterns. "There's no mistaking it—that's the Armory's special consultant, Expert Li, Old Mr. Li!" Someone in the know recognized the elder's identity from the pigment and quill. "Which Expert Li?" someone asked tentatively. "You don't mean that..." "The exact one you're thinking of." "The Adjudicator-300 enchanted pistol popular among high-ranking official circles—that was his modified masterpiece!" "Whether it's the structural improvements to the firearm or the enchanted runes inscribed on it, both are works of art." With that, the crowd erupted into lively discussion. "The Adjudicator-300 enchanted pistol... Isn't that notoriously sought-after on the ghost market?" "Last time one showed up here along with fifteen enchanted rounds, it was snapped up at an astronomical price within five minutes." "..." Listening in, Bai Zhou understood. Sure enough, it was just as he had surmised. A special consultant to the Armory was naturally someone who researched and modified ordnance... If it were some other weapon, Bai Zhou might not know much. But the Adjudicator-300? That he knew intimately. After all, he happened to have one on his person right now. ...He just hadn't expected to run into its creator here. Small wonder the man didn't care much about concealing his identity. Even setting aside the two attendants of unfathomable depth beside him, even if he paraded through the streets bare-faced, no one would dare lay a finger on him... The word "Official" weighed heavier than Mount Tai in a place like the ghost market, which was populated largely by rogue Extraordinaries! And from the way these people spoke, an occult master in rune craft was far rarer and more revered than an ordinary high-ranking Extraordinary! —Every occult master proficient in their respective field was akin to nobility among Extraordinaries! After all, for Extraordinaries accustomed to tomb-raiding, repairing runes, breaking curses, and deciphering cryptic cyphers were inevitable daily affairs in their lives. Everyone needed favors at some point, unless they were an all-around prodigy. Thus, every occult master—even if they were inept at combat and appeared tottering like an old scholar—wielded terrifying influence whenever they chose to exert it. Nobody wanted to cross them. And this expert, as a bona fide master specially hired by the authorities to develop enchanted firearms, was already an unattainable "legendary" figure to the denizens of the ghost market. He had no business being in a petty place like this. A single word could mobilize vast resources from official organizations; wading through the ghost market was simply looking for trouble without reason. Unless something had drawn him here— Bai Zhou's eyes flickered, his heart tightening. He thought of the auction. "..." *Hummm—* Right as he was pondering, a soft ringing sound reached his ears. The runes the elder had inscribed faded into nothingness, and perilous ripples radiated outward from the wand. The elder staggered back, the wand slipping from his grasp, only to be caught swiftly by the sharp-eyed witch. Steadied by his two attendants, the elder's earlier smugness and self-satisfaction vanished completely, leaving only an awkward silence that stretched for a long while. "How embarrassing." "This should be an artifact of our current civilizational era, but it is an enchanted weapon dating back at least two thousand years, if not earlier." The elder shook his head. "I attempted over a dozen rune restoration methods, yet none could guide the runes to sustain themselves. It appears its runic system forms an independent framework entirely distinct from modern runic theory." "Now that I think about it, I seem to have seen records of similar patterns... though I would need to consult ancient texts back home." With that, he turned to the witch carefully inspecting her wand and said solemnly, "Young fellow, I have some interest in studying its runes. If it's convenient, would you be willing to part with it?" "—Price is entirely open to discussion." "You must realize that research into it could very well contribute to advancing official equipment." "...I honestly have no idea what you're rambling about, old man." The young witch scratched her head, her disguised, gender-neutral voice coming out blunt and unapologetic. "You almost dropped my wand on the ground just now, and I haven't even asked you for compensation!" "—Doesn't the sign say it clearly enough? Rune restoration! Not for sale!" Confronted by the witch's complete lack of courtesy, the two attendants flared with fury and stepped forward. "Do you have any idea who you're speaking to?!" Their spirituality rippled faintly. Only then did the onlookers realize in shock that both attendants appeared to be Grade 3 Extraordinaries! Even if they weren't Grade 3, they couldn't be far off. To have two such individuals acting as bodyguards proved just how highly the Armory valued this "master expert." Unexpectedly... The young witch, who had been holding back her irritation for a long time, glared right back at them as her surging aura erupted once more: "—And do *you* know who you're speaking to?!" A terrifying pressure rolled off her, engulfing the two men and instantly draining the blood from their faces beneath their cloaks. Pressure like mountains and oceans poured endlessly over them. Only now did they understand the kind of suffocating dread that the man who had scurried off earlier had endured... Could this be... A Grade 5 Extraordinary?! Where wouldn't a Grade 5 Extraordinary hold immense power and prestige? —Setting up a roadside stall in a ghost market?! They had kicked an iron plate. Yet they could hardly be blamed. Who could have known this slab of iron had the bizarre kink of dressing itself up as cotton! "My sincerest apologies. Please forgive their presumption..." Leaning on his cane, the elder stepped forward and offered a polite apology before probing uncertainly, "Might you be...?" Only then did the young witch rein in her aura and scoff coldly, "I don't care who you are. This is the ghost market, understand?" In the ghost market, everyone kept their faces hidden and heads down. In other words, whatever someone did here wouldn't immediately expose their real identity. "Understood, I understand..." The elder nodded, offering a bitter smile. "Truly, I meant no offense. I merely became eager upon seeing such a rare prize..." The young witch waved her hand dismissively. "Whatever. I just have no interest in contributing to Tinghai. You'd best look elsewhere; perhaps you'll find something new." Faced with this veiled eviction, the elder sighed and prepared to leave. Though the unfamiliar runes tempted him immensely, in this tense atmosphere he couldn't utter another word, and he could see how deeply she treasured the wand. She had never intended to sell it in the first place. They were the ones who couldn't fix it, and she was the one with the bigger fists—what else was there to say? "..." Beneath her cloak, the witch's flat chest thumped wildly. *So thrilling!* Under normal circumstances, the Gem Witch would never dare talk back so brazenly to an official expert and master. But right now was different. Nobody knew who she was. Here, there was no Gem Witch, the good neighbor to Tinghai's weak and defenseless—only a mysterious merchant, a roadside vendor. Don the cloak, be yourself! She had been annoyed with this old man for a while now. Whether it was his imperious, haughty demeanor or his later righteous, entitled posture demanding that others contribute to the greater good... Though subtle, as the person on the receiving end—how intimidated she had been into meekly handing over the wand at first was exactly how infuriated she felt once she came to her senses. But it was fine— After chewing them out, they had behaved themselves, leaving her utterly refreshed. Refreshed from the tips of her toes to the top of her skull. Who told her to have bigger fists? She almost wished she could play the Gem Witch by day, and by night transform into a masked, cloaked vigilante, delivering heavy punches to everything she couldn't stand! The only pity was... Gazing down at the wand cradled in her hands, the witch let out a faint sigh. A pity that this wand still hadn't been repaired. A whole year, and even an expert like him couldn't do it... Was there really anyone left in Tinghai who could fix it? In truth, repairing this wand itself wasn't necessarily vital to her. What mattered was that she needed someone capable of restoring these runes. Only then would she have hope... *Forget it.* The witch shook her head. Ignoring the awe-filled gazes of the onlookers watching from a distance, her enthusiasm drained, she prepared to pack up her stall. Yet right at that moment— "Let me try." A nonchalant voice suddenly drifted out from a corner behind the crowd. Everyone turned to look. ...Who was that? So headstrong! Didn't they see Master Li himself fall flat on his face? The expert elder, who was just about to leave with his men, halted in his tracks as well, glancing back in astonishment. A "mysterious person" clad in a very strange cloak entered everyone's view. He truly was "mysterious"—mysterious enough to have writing all over him! "'Mass Grave'... What is that?" Someone couldn't help but read the bizarre characters aloud. The moment he realized what he was reading, a cold shiver ran through his entire body, and his words abruptly cut off. The reason left in his brain hastily suppressed the urge to read further. Why did it feel like... a curse inscribed onto the cloak? Could there really be such a high-tier mystical cloak? Then, under the varied gazes of the crowd, the person in the strange cloak stepped forward from the throng. Bai Zhou silently calculated the timing for the auction, realizing he was running a bit short on time. He needed to pick up the pace for what came next. Then, under the young witch's peculiar scrutinizing gaze, he pointed at the wand in her hands. "I feel like it and I share quite a destiny." Bai Zhou gave a light cough and asked: "—How about letting me try?"