Zhou Su pedaled around the corner. A giant billboard happened to block the sightlines, and several motorcycles swept in fast, closing around him and the shared bike.
The riders were all burly, muscles bulging, most of their faces hidden behind tight masks.
“Brother, we buy Blood Moon items at a premium. Price is negotiable.” The bald leader’s voice was low.
After the second Blood Moon rule, “Celebration,” a global craze for buying up Blood Moon items had erupted.
So-called “Blood Moon items” referred to the things opened from Survival Chests.
In the face of these extraordinary objects, any Heart of the Ocean or rare antique could step aside.
Blood Moon items were now being hyped online to sky-high prices, and even so demand still outstripped supply—after all, very few people would sell something that could save their lives.
Driven by huge profits, dark currents surged everywhere. For a single Blood Moon item, any filthy method might be used.
The “roadblock” in front of him was one such outfit. Zhou had seen posts about them on the message boards; he hadn’t expected to bump into them today.
“My Blood Moon items have already been used up.”
Hemmed in by a group, Zhou’s gaze didn’t ripple in the slightest. He parked the shared bike and unhooked the blade bag from the handlebar.
Obviously the bag didn’t hold Tang Dao: Ghost Hong. That blade was far too sharp for daily drills—the villa’s rock floor had already cost him a chunk of money.
Inside was his newly purchased practice saber, the same Tang-Dao style, the handfeel somewhat close to Ghost Hong.
It was only a practice blade, but more than enough for this crowd.
The air grew heavier. The bruisers hopped off their bikes, sealing all of Zhou’s escape routes.
Just as hands were about to move, the leader suddenly waved. “Since you don’t have any Blood Moon items on you, forget it!”
Zhou shot him a surprised look. Since they didn’t mean to start anything, he didn’t intend to waste time. He swung back onto the shared bike.
The spoked wheel turned slowly. Under a dozen burly stares, Zhou rolled away at an unhurried pace.
When his back vanished from sight, a lackey couldn’t help asking, “Boss, we’re just letting that kid go? I’m a hundred percent sure he’s carrying good stuff!”
“You think I couldn’t tell?”
The leader shook his head. “That guy was way too calm. And you didn’t notice his eyes? That was a look from above—like we were ants by the roadside.”
“Boss, isn’t that a bit much? There’s so many of us, and we’ve got plenty of Blood Moon items. How could we not handle one guy?” The lackey’s face screamed disbelief.
The boss glared at him. “You daring to question my read? He’s hard as nails. And with this many people around, why fixate on a tough target? The risk doesn’t match the return.”
Zhou had no idea about the debate behind him. By then he’d already boarded the subway.
The train thundered along. Zhou sat in an empty corner. He looked like he was resting his eyes; in truth, he was digesting memory fragments in his head.
Besides saber technique, those memories included some garbage information he would clear out whenever he had spare time.
There wasn’t much left before the next Blood Moon rule dropped. He had to squeeze value from every minute.
“In order to revive traditional culture, the Great Xia Federation issues a sincere invitation to all sectors of society. The benefits are generous! Interested parties may contact their local authorities. Taoist priests and monks receive priority…”
Every few minutes the subway PA replayed the notice. Zhou listened quietly, thoughts sparking.
The Great Xia Federation had been moving frequently of late, rolling out decree after decree. Rumor had it they had even set up a Dusk Power research group and were recruiting capable people.
The importance of the Guide to Awakening Dusk Power (Incomplete) was obvious even to the blind.
If Zhou hadn’t already completed the first stage of Dusk Power cultivation, he might have been interested in that organization himself.
After absorbing some of the Headless General’s junk info, Zhou felt his head throb and swell. He rubbed his temples, planning to relax a little.
He took out his phone and opened an app called Catalog of a Hundred Ghosts.
The app was an official release, containing records of all kinds of ghosts—some even with photos, mostly shot during the first Blood Moon rule.
During that rule, malevolent spirits had become “entities” that could be photographed.
Catalog of a Hundred Ghosts also had a terror-index leaderboard. Ranked first was the “Spider Duchess,” who had appeared in a large foreign prison.
They happened to be doing collective labor at the time, all the inmates gathered together, which had summoned that terrifying spirit.
But in Zhou’s view, compared to the Headless General, that Spider Duchess was still far off.
After exiting the station and walking a few minutes, Zhou reached the gym. He changed and began training.
Under a professional coach’s guidance, Zhou squeezed out the last drop of strength from his body.
After finishing, he even needed to use the wall to walk. The only reason he made it out of the gym was the ability of lightning-thought to forcibly command his body.
A familiar Wuling microvan slid to a stop in front of him. Chen Zhengkai hopped from the driver’s seat and trotted around to yank open the rear door.
Zhou “threw” himself onto the back seat. The instant he released lightning-thought, he felt about to pass out.
“How is it? Can you keep going?” Chen started the van, and the Wuling eased onto the road.
This was why Zhou didn’t drive when he went out. After training, he simply couldn’t operate a car.
Fortunately, Chen could come to the rescue and drive him home.
At times like this, everyone’s time was precious; only a true diehard friend like Chen would carve out time to help.
“Not dead yet.” Zhou barely had the strength to speak.
As for whether high-intensity training would hurt his body—Zhou felt that was pure hand-wringing.
If he couldn’t clear the next Blood Moon rule, what good would pristine health do?
He was exhausted, but he kept summoning the crimson book, flipping through it now and then, eyes full of expectation.
There were less than three minutes until the Mystery Shop refresh!
At the instant the van rolled up to the villa gate, the time hit midnight—12:00. Zhou immediately flipped the crimson book to the Mystery Shop page.
New goods had already refreshed. Three items again this time.
【Mystery Shop (Refresh Countdown: 29 days 23 hours 59 minutes)】
【Current Goods: Tiger-Strength Pills ×1, Fox-Ghost Mask ×1, Duling Mountain Talisman Codex ×1.】
【Tiger-Strength Pills: (White-Legendary)
Intro: Pills refined by the Tiger Daoist. After swallowing, they fortify vital blood and enhance muscular strength! One bottle contains eight pills.
Price: 70 Dusk Crystals.】
Zhou’s eyes lit up at the first item.
It was exactly a pillow delivered to a drowsy head; what he lacked most right now was something to strengthen his body.
He was about to buy it straight away, hesitated, and kept reading.
【Fox-Ghost Mask: (Blue-Rare)
Intro: A mask with “self-repair.”
When worn, enables “aura masking” and “voice alteration.”
Grants “soul-power heart-flame”: soul-power recovery speed +20%, soul-power condensation speed +5%.
Price: 400 Dusk Crystals.】
“A pocket artifact.” The phrase flashed through Zhou’s mind the instant he read the description.
The mask’s first two functions were very practical, but compared to “soul-power heart-flame,” they were nothing.
With that ability, the second stage of Dusk Power cultivation could reach completion faster.
“This Mystery Shop refresh doesn’t feel random.”
Zhou suddenly noticed a problem—because this was just too convenient. The first two items were exactly his urgent needs.
He reread the user guide carefully and finally solved it.
The guide only said it refreshed at the start of each month; it never used the word “random.”
So-called “random refresh” had just been his own assumption.
“Damned gacha games!”
Cursed and conditioned by pay-to-win mobile games, he’d gotten used to it.
“See? How could a cheat be so inconvenient?”
Once he understood, his mood lifted.
That being the case, the Mystery Shop’s strategic value became limitless.
But his brow quickly furrowed—he only had 410 Dusk Crystals left.
An awkward number. If the gap were huge, fine—but he was only 60 short of buying both items. It was enough to make a man itch.
Unable to decide for the moment, he looked to the last item—and his eyes flared like bulbs.
【Duling Mountain Talisman Codex — Fragment: (Green-Legendary)
Intro: Records the detailed process for crafting Duling Mountain talismans, but for unknown reasons, some high-tier talismans are missing.
Price: 6900 Dusk Crystals】
Without question, this was a rare treasure.
If he could learn to make talismans, it would be equivalent to having a steady stream of “Blood Moon items.” The profits were unimaginable.
“Only…the price…” Zhou glanced at the number and his face fell.
He had no idea how long it would take to scrape together 6900, and the killer was that the Mystery Shop would refresh at the start of the month.
In other words, if he wanted this, he had to amass the Dusk Crystals within a month.
“Only when the money’s due do you hate being short.” Zhou couldn’t help sighing.
He could only do his best; whether he could gather enough would be up to fate.
“Top priority is getting the first two items in hand.”
An idea struck. He closed the crimson book and asked as he pulled the van door, “Old Chen, didn’t you say you had a deal lined up?”
“I thought you said you didn’t have time?” Chen shot him a surprised look.
“Circumstances changed. Lay it out.” Zhou sat up straight.