The next morning, Ethan woke before sunrise. The copper coin still rested on the table where he had left it. For several moments, he studied it again. Nothing had changed overnight. It still looked like an ordinary coin.
No markings.
No strange symbols.
No hidden patterns that he could find.
Yet the traveler had left it for a reason.
After washing and eating a simple breakfast downstairs, Ethan left the inn. The market was quieter than usual. Many merchants were still setting up their stalls.
A cool breeze drifted through the streets.
The traveler had only given him one instruction. Tomorrow. Take the coin. Nothing else.
Ethan walked toward the square where they had spoken the previous day. The tree was still there. The food stall was still there.
The traveler was not.
That did not surprise him. Someone involved in a hidden world was unlikely to wait in the same place for newcomers.
He continued walking.
Observing.
Waiting.
About half an hour later, he noticed something. An elderly merchant was opening a small stall near the edge of the market.
The stall sold ordinary rope, lantern oil, and travel supplies. Nothing unusual. Yet Ethan recognized him. The man had received one of the wooden tokens two days earlier.
Ethan slowed.
Not enough to attract attention.
Just enough to watch.
The old merchant worked quietly. A few customers came and went. Nothing happened. Then a traveler approached. The traveler did not speak immediately.
Instead, he placed a copper coin on the counter. The same kind of copper coin.
The merchant glanced at it once.
Then nodded.
"Third alley," the old man said.
"Left turn. Red door."
The traveler picked up the coin. No purchase was made. No money exchanged. He simply left.
Ethan remained still.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
A few minutes later, he walked toward the stall. The merchant barely looked at him.
"What do you need?"
Ethan placed the copper coin on the counter. The merchant’s eyes dropped to it. A brief pause followed. Then he nodded.
Exactly as he had with the previous traveler.
"Third alley."
Another pause.
"Left turn."
His eyes lifted slightly.
"Red door."
Nothing more.
The merchant returned to arranging his goods. The conversation was over. Ethan picked up the coin and left. His pace remained steady.
He did not hurry.
There was no reason to. If the instructions were genuine, the destination would still be there. If they were a trap, rushing toward it would not improve matters.
The third alley was easy to find. The left turn was equally simple. The red door waited exactly where the merchant had said it would. At first glance, it looked ordinary.
A little worn.
A little faded.
Nothing about it suggested hidden cultivators. Or secret markets. Or anything unusual at all.
Ethan stopped a short distance away.
Watching.
Several people passed the door.
None entered.
Then a middle-aged woman approached. She knocked twice. Waited. Then knocked once more.
The door opened. The woman entered. The door closed again.
A few minutes later, a young man repeated the same sequence.
Two knocks.
Pause.
One knock.
The door opened.
The young man disappeared inside.
Ethan watched two more people do the same thing. The pattern became clear.
Eventually, he walked forward. Raised his hand. And knocked twice. A pause. Then once more.
Nothing happened.
Several seconds passed.
Then the door opened. A narrow-eyed man stood inside. His gaze immediately dropped to Ethan’s face. Then to the copper coin in his hand.
The man stepped aside.
"Enter."
Ethan did.
The door closed behind him.
The room beyond looked nothing like what he expected.
No glowing treasures. No powerful cultivators floating in the air. No mysterious formations.
Instead, it looked like a warehouse. Crates lined the walls. Shelves filled the corners.
Several people sat behind tables recording information on sheets of paper.
The atmosphere felt more like a trading company than a secret organization.
A faint scent of herbs drifted through the room.
The narrow-eyed man pointed toward another door.
"Through there."
Ethan nodded.
The second door led downstairs. Stone steps descended beneath the building. Voices gradually became louder.
The deeper he went, the more people he encountered.
Not ordinary travelers.
Not merchants.
Not townsfolk.
Cultivators, or at least people connected to the cultivation world.
Some wore weapons openly. Some carried unusual pouches. Some moved with the calm confidence Ethan had begun noticing among rogue cultivators.
Nobody paid much attention to him.
That alone told him something. Newcomers were not rare.
The staircase eventually opened into a much larger area.
Ethan stopped.
The sight before him was unlike anything he had seen before. A long underground street stretched ahead. Rows of stalls lined both sides. Lanterns illuminated the ceiling.
Voices filled the air.
People traded herbs.
Minerals.
Beast materials.
Maps.
Books.
Strange objects Ethan could not identify.
Some stalls displayed items openly. Others kept their goods hidden until customers asked specific questions.
The atmosphere felt completely different from the market above. Not because it was louder. Not because it was larger. Because everyone here seemed to understand something that ordinary people did not.
This was not a place for food and cloth. This was a place where opportunities changed lives.
Ethan slowly walked forward.
Taking everything in.
A stall selling medicinal herbs.
A trader offering beast bones.
A man negotiating over what appeared to be a cultivation manual.
A woman purchasing strange black stones.
Every direction revealed something new.
At one stall, Ethan overheard a conversation.
"Three silver."
"Too much."
"The herb came from a spirit-infested valley."
"Two silver."
"Two silver and fifty copper."
The deal was accepted.
Ethan continued walking.
The numbers immediately caught his attention.
Silver.
Not copper.
The scale of trade here was different, much different. A realization slowly formed.
The savings he had carefully accumulated over the past few months might not stretch nearly as far as he had hoped.
That was useful information, disappointing But useful.
He continued exploring, not buying, not asking unnecessary questions. Simply observing. Just as he had done since arriving in this world.
Information first.
Decisions later.
By the time he reached the far end of the underground street, Ethan understood one thing clearly.
The hidden market was real.
Not a rumor.
Not a trail.
Not a possibility.
It existed.
And he was finally standing inside it. The real challenge would begin now.