537: Chapter 537 A fool's judgment is the best disguise in the world!

At the same time.

In the depths of a forgotten dark alley on the outskirts of Peng City.

The air inside the secret room was cold and thick, mixed with a faint smell of blood and the musty scent of stone walls.

Han Rui sat cross-legged in the center.

The bone-shard sound transmission formation before him flickered with a ghostly light, and a secret agent's Divine Thought condensed into a cold reporting voice within it.

"...Target is at a junk stall at the end of the Loose Cultivator Market, spent one million high-grade immortal stones to purchase over a dozen pieces of Magic Treasure wreckage."

"Remote inspection confirms they are all completely scrapped items, with no repair or use value whatsoever."

"Repeat, all are scrapped items."

The reporting voice dissipated.

The secret room fell into a dead silence that lasted for two breaths.

Han Rui raised his hand and pinched his brow with two fingers, a gesture as if dispelling some bad luck that had rubbed off on him.

Then, the corners of his mouth curled upward into an arc.

It wasn't a smile.

It was the bone-deep contempt of an experienced old hunter seeing a newborn rabbit clumsily covering itself in mud, trying to disguise itself as a rock.

"One million high-grade immortal stones."

He repeated the number slowly, as if savoring an incredibly hilarious joke.

"Bought a pile of... scrap metal."

He slowly turned his head.

His eyes were like two ice-quenched blades, piercing through the gloom and pinning down the charred figure in the corner of the secret room.

"Martial Niece Lin."

His voice was cold, carrying the unquestionable tone of judgment characteristic of the Law Enforcement Hall when sentencing heretics.

"This is the opponent who made you suffer such a great loss?"

Han Rui raised his hand, pointing a finger disdainfully toward the sound transmission Formation.

"A fool ascended from the Lower Realm who squanders millions at a street stall just to pick up a pile of trash."

"You, the dignified Fairy of Hundred Flowers of the Heavenly Immortal Seventh Heaven."

"Were plotted against by him to the point of nearly having your Dao destroyed?"

These words were no longer blunt; they were an insult.

Translated, they meant: "You are truly an embarrassment to us."

You and the Hundred Flowers Peak behind you have completely lost face for our Xuantian Immortal Sect.

Lin Wan did not look at him.

She kept her eyes closed, letting Zhao Qingyi's immortal essence flow like warm water through the last damaged meridian in her body.

But she heard him.

Every word was like a steel needle dipped in cold poison, accurately piercing deep into her Divine Soul.

In the corner, Zhang Ningshuang was shaking with rage, her pretty face turning pale instantly. Just as she was about to open her mouth to argue, she was suppressed by Zhao Qingyi's cold gaze.

Han Rui didn't care about Lin Wan's reaction at all.

This was the effect he wanted; the authority of the Law Enforcement Hall needed to be established by beating down these arrogant inner sect geniuses.

He turned to the five True Immortals behind him, his tone carrying a hint of relief and contempt as if a cold case had been solved.

"A fool from the Lower Realm who craves greatness and has more money than brains."

He gave his final verdict on Su Chen.

"He even dares to spend a million to pick up junk that has been scamming people in the Loose Cultivator Market for ten thousand years. It's clear this person has a narrow vision and no depth; he only ascended to the Immortal Realm through sheer dumb luck."

He gave Lin Wan one last glance, his eyes like those looking at a piece of trash that had lost its utility value.

Word by word, carrying a blade-like chill.

"To be plotted against by such a character, Martial Niece Lin, this is truly... losing all face for our Law Enforcement Hall."

The secret room fell completely silent.

It was so quiet that only the faint, seemingly fragile hum of Zhao Qingyi channeling immortal essence remained.

Lin Wan still kept her eyes closed, but the knuckles of her hand resting on her knee tightened one by one, the bone joints protruding and turning white, as if she were about to crush her own kneecap.

The humiliation of having her scars exposed and trampled upon in public turned into a pool of scorching magma in her heart.

But the magma did not erupt.

Instead, in her extreme anger, it rapidly cooled and solidified into a substance colder, harder, and more lethal than ten-thousand-year profound ice.

She loosened her grip.

When she opened her eyes again, all emotions in those pupils—whether anger or humiliation—had been burned away, leaving only a black-hole-like dead silence.

She didn't look at Han Rui, nor did she look at anyone else.

Her gaze pierced through the walls, through the dark alley, through half of Peng City, and finally landed in a direction she couldn't see, but which was already deeply engraved into the marrow of her Divine Soul.

"The stupider the enemy, the better."

She finally spoke, her voice hoarse like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together, but every word was clearly heart-pounding.

"Because only things taken from a fool are the cleanest."

She slowly turned her head and, facing the mocking Han Rui, revealed a smile.

On the charred and terrifying half of her face, that sweet dimple emerged once more.

It was so sweet it was nauseating.

"Rest assured, Captain Han."

"At the auction, I will make him happily spit out every single Immortal Stone on his body, contributing to his own coffin board."

"And at the moment he walks out of the Peng City gates, thinking he has achieved a great victory—"

She paused for a moment.

The wind from the alley entrance rushed in at some point, blowing the charred strands of hair on her forehead like ghostly tentacles.

"I will let him witness."

"What true... despair is."

Looking at her charred, twisted face that nevertheless bore a sweet dimple, a brief trace of discomfort—one even he didn't catch—unexpectedly flashed through the depths of Han Rui's heart.

But he quickly attributed this discomfort to disgust for the weak.

He nodded, his voice cold and hard as iron.

"The auction."

The candle flame in the secret room flickered violently, nearly extinguished by the invisible Killing Intent.

The auras of the six black-robed figures completely merged with the shadows.

...

Su Chen, of course, didn't know that his act of "collecting junk" had inadvertently completed a textbook-level perfect strategic deception.

Xie Jinghong was convinced he was a peerless con artist pretending to be poor while carrying a mountain of gold, and was sharpening her blade, ready to slaughter him at the auction.

Han Rui and Lin Wan were convinced he was a peerless noob with more money than brains, and had already dug a pit, ready to bury him along with his treasures after he went bankrupt.

Two groups of people, two blades.

All sharpened to a bright sheen.

All pointing toward the first day of the month.

All pointing toward the same person.

And the man at the center of the storm was currently tugging at Wang Baobao's sky-high braid that had been blown crooked by the wind, leisurely walking toward the tavern while scolding her crossly.

"I said no gnawing! Why did you gnaw half of a roadside guardrail again! Don't your teeth hurt!"

"But Boss, that guardrail was really crunchy! It was 'ga-ben' crunchy, just like potato chips!"

"Potato chips my foot! I'm cutting three days of your rations when we get back! Let's see you eat potato chips then!"

"No, Boss! Boss is the biggest villain in the world!!"

The evening in Peng City sank once more amidst the little girl's aggrieved cries.

Su Chen looked at her pitiful appearance and whistled in his heart with a great mood.

[Tsk, kids just don't understand.]

[Some iron is for you to gnaw on as a snack for fun.]

[But some iron is for me, the boss, to use for burying the bad guys.]

The curtain of the First-of-the-Month Auction was slowly being drawn back in the night.

...