120: Entering the black market, a disfigured woman!

"Slaves?"

Yi Zhengtian's face turned livid as he heard this, and he couldn't help but speak up, "This... this is illegal. Human trafficking is simply lawless!"

Night Owl shot him a sidelong glance.

"Illegal?"

"Old man, the law is a rope that binds the weak, a pasture demarcated for the sheep."

"In the face of true power and darkness, it is as fragile as a sheet of paper."

"The Ghost Market has existed for so many years; what do you think it relies on? Naive!"

Yi Zhengtian was left speechless by her words, his expression looking quite ugly.

Ye Chen waved his hand, signaling Night Owl to stop the nonsense: "Give me an address."

The threat of the Hidden Sect was like a sword hanging over his head, ready to fall at any moment.

He had to build up enough power as quickly as possible to protect those around him.

With Bing Lan by his side, she would be under his protection, so that wasn't a big issue.

His parents had recently moved into Dijing Garden, and while the neighborhood's security was top-tier, it probably wasn't enough to deal with enemies at the level of the Hidden Sect.

Going to the Ghost Market to recruit manpower was imperative.

Night Owl crossed her arms and said coldly.

"Giving you the address is useless."

"The entrance to the Ghost Market is hidden; you need a specific invitation or a guide to enter."

"The location of each market opening is never fixed. Only those with a Travel Permit can get the specific location the day before it opens."

She paused, and although reluctant, she added.

"I have a Travel Permit on me that I got after the last mission. It hasn't expired yet, so I can take you."

Ye Chen nodded; this would save some trouble: "Fine, then you lead the way. When can we go?"

"Tonight will work."

Night Owl glanced at the deep night outside the window, "The Ghost Market, as the name suggests, only opens late at night and disperses before dawn."

"Good."

Ye Chen made the final decision, then looked at Yi Yue and the other two, "Yueyue, you all get some rest. I'm going to take a look."

Yi Yue said worriedly: "Ye Chen, you must be careful... that place sounds very dangerous."

"Don't worry."

Ye Chen gave her a reassuring look, "There are very few places in this world that can make me suffer a loss."

Once arrangements were made, Ye Chen left Yi Yue's house with Night Owl.

The Cullinan traveled through the night, finally stopping on the outskirts of an abandoned industrial area in the east of the city.

Pushing open the car door, the surrounding scene came into view.

Before them was a cluster of abandoned factories with broken walls, dark, gaping windows, and weeds sprouting from the cracked concrete, swaying rustily in the night wind.

In the distance, there were only a few scattered, dim streetlights, their light barely outlining the twisted silhouettes of the factory buildings... "This is it?"

Ye Chen scanned the area; it was so desolate that even stray dogs wouldn't want to stay for long.

Night Owl didn't say a word, simply walking toward the depths of the factory area.

Ye Chen followed behind her.

After bypassing several half-collapsed factory buildings, a warehouse appeared ahead. The rusted iron door was slightly ajar, with an extremely faint light leaking from within.

When they were about ten meters from the iron door, a dark figure seemed to seep out from the wall, abruptly blocking the middle of the path.

The person was entirely covered in a voluminous black robe, with even their head and face hidden in the shadow of the hood, leaving only a pair of eyes exposed—eyes that were as cold as ice, devoid of any warmth.

He carried an old-fashioned kerosene lantern in his hand, its dim yellow glow only lighting the small patch of ground beneath his feet.

"Halt."

"Travel Permit."

Night Owl fished out a black card with faint golden patterns from her bosom and handed it over.

The black-robed man took it and examined it carefully by the light of the lantern.

A moment later, he handed the card back and simultaneously pulled out two masks from his robe.

The masks were pure black, exposing only the eyes, nose, and mouth. The material was neither metal nor wood, feeling ice-cold to the touch, and simple ghost-face patterns were outlined on them with dark red lines, appearing somewhat sinister in the dim light.

"Put them on. You are not allowed to take them off once inside."

"Break the rules, and you bear the consequences."

After the black-robed man finished speaking, he stepped aside, his figure merging back into the shadows of the wall as if he had never appeared.

Night Owl tossed one of the masks to Ye Chen and put on the other herself.

The moment the mask covered his face, a scent mixed with herbs entered his nostrils.

Ye Chen's eyes flickered slightly.

This mask wasn't simple... it didn't just hide one's face; it also had the effect of confusing one's aura and even interfering with perception to a certain extent.

The Ghost Market had been able to exist under the noses of various factions for so many years; it indeed had some tricks up its sleeve.

Once both had their masks on, they pushed open the rusted iron door and walked in.

The interior of the warehouse was much larger than it appeared from the outside, startlingly cavernous.

Thick dust had accumulated on the floor, and broken machine parts and discarded oil drums were piled in the corners.

In the very center of the floor, there was a square entrance leading downward, with rough concrete steps extending into the darkness.

Night Owl took the lead down the steps, with Ye Chen following closely behind.

The stairs weren't long; after about thirty or forty steps down, the view suddenly opened up.

A massive underground space presented itself, at least a dozen meters high and as large as two football fields.

Shadowy figures moved about.

Hundreds of people were gathered here, and almost everyone was wearing a mask.

They moved between simple stalls, talking in low voices, haggling, and trading all sorts of illicit goods.

The stalls were set up directly on the concrete floor, with a cloth or animal hide spread out, displaying a wide variety of goods.

Further away, several areas were partitioned off with thick iron chains and wooden fences.

In one of these areas, dozens of people were kneeling.

Men and women, young and old, all were dressed in rags with numb expressions, iron collars around their necks, being displayed like livestock.

And there... was the Goods Area Night Owl had mentioned, the place where slaves were sold.

Beside the Goods Area, some people were standing or sitting; though most also wore masks, their temperaments were clearly different.

They had lean, powerful builds and sharp eyes; even with their auras deliberately restrained, one could feel the faint fluctuations of blood qi and a sense of danger.

Most of these people had simple signs in front of them with brief information.

"Mid-stage Grandmaster, skilled with the blade, accepting guard duty or vendettas, price negotiable."

"Early-stage Great Grandmaster, proficient in assassination and stealth, only accepting single missions, 50% deposit upfront."

"Combined Strike Battle Array, five-person group, capable of trapping and killing a Great Grandmaster, long-term employment preferred."

...This was the Martial Artist Employment Area.

Ye Chen's gaze swept across, and his heart settled slightly.

The Ghost Market indeed lived up to its reputation.

Night Owl lowered her voice and spoke in his ear.

"This place is a mixed bag, so keep your eyes open."

"If you see someone you like, go up and negotiate the price directly. Once settled, pay the deposit on the spot. The Ghost Market takes a 10% commission and will act as a guarantor. If either party backs out afterward, the Ghost Market's pursuit order... is worse than death."

Ye Chen nodded and was about to head toward the employment area.

However.

His steps suddenly faltered, his gaze landing on a figure in the corner of the Slave Area.

It was a woman.

She was curled up in the innermost corner of the fence.

Her head was bowed, her long hair disheveled and covering most of her face.

The most eerie thing was—

Her exposed neck, arms, and calves—every bit of visible skin—were covered in hideous burn scars. The flesh was twisted and varied in color, looking like tree bark.

But Ye Chen's gaze pierced through this shocking exterior.

In his perception, within this woman's body... there was actually a faint trace of 'Qi' remaining!

Although most of her meridians were broken and blocked, and her dantian was like a leaky water bag—completely empty—this 'Qi' was like a tenacious spark, slowly circulating and mending within her broken body.

What surprised Ye Chen even more was that the circulation method of this 'Qi' was very special; it was like a small blade of grass in a stone crevice, tenaciously self-repairing the destroyed pathways... This was definitely not the state a normal martial artist should be in after being crippled!

Usually, when one's cultivation was destroyed, the blood qi would dissipate and the meridians would wither; being able to survive was already considered lucky.

But this woman... it was as if an undying seed had been planted inside her.

Ye Chen's interest was piqued instantly. He changed direction and walked straight toward the corner of the Slave Area.

"Hey!"

Night Owl frowned and called out to him in a low voice, "What are you going there for? That's the Slave Area! People only go there to pick out laborers, playthings, or if they have special kinks. Truly powerful martial artists don't end up there!"

In her view, Ye Chen had come to the Ghost Market to hire capable helpers.

What kind of quality could be in the Slave Area?

It was either ordinary people with no ability to resist, or cripples who were half-dead like the one in front of them.

Ye Chen acted as if he hadn't heard her, his steps never stopping as he soon arrived before the woman.

The slave owner was a lean, middle-aged man wearing a green-faced, long-fanged ghost mask.

Seeing a customer arrive, he immediately approached.

"My lord, you have a good eye! This woman is fresh stock. Interested?"

Ye Chen ignored him, his gaze fixed on the woman as he spoke calmly: "Look up."

The woman's body trembled slightly, but she kept her head bowed, like a lifeless clay sculpture.

"Tsk, a stubborn one."

The slave owner spat, reaching out to grab the woman's hair, wanting to force her head up.

"I'll do it myself."

Ye Chen raised his hand, interrupting the slave owner.

Then.

He squatted down, looking at the woman at eye level.

She seemed to sense Ye Chen's gaze and subconsciously tilted her head up slightly... her long hair slid to the sides, revealing a heart-stopping face.

It wasn't beautiful.

It was that her entire face... was almost completely destroyed.

Only a pair of eyes remained clear, with distinct black and white.

But within that clarity, they were filled with hatred.

She used those eyes to stare fixedly at Ye Chen.

No pleading.

No fear.