14: Chapter 14 Citywide Lockdown

Printing payment slip...

【Deduction successful. Transaction amount: -150,000 alliance coins. Current balance: 11,200 alliance coins.】

The hospital's self-service payment machine spat out a thin sheet of thermal paper.

Lin Fan reached out to tear it off, his fingertips feeling the faint residual warmth of the paper.

In just one night, that long string of zeros behind the first digit had vanished, leaving only a pitiful four-digit number.

The money flowed out like water, yet he hadn't even heard a splash.

"It's eased up slightly."

The attending physician pushed the gold-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, looking at the latest test report in his hand with a professional and cold tone.

"The nutrient solution in the life-support pod has been changed to Grade B, which can slow down the rate of Xiao Ya's cellular decay by 30%. But this is only a temporary measure."

The doctor closed the folder and looked directly at Lin Fan.

"The schedule for the gene-targeting surgery is very tight. You only have half a month. In half a month, if the initial 500,000 surgery fee isn't paid in full, the hospital will forcibly cut off the high-level permissions for the life-support pod. At that time, even a god wouldn't be able to save her."

Half a month.

Five hundred thousand.

Plus the subsequent one million remaining balance.

This mountain hadn't moved just because he earned over a hundred thousand yesterday; instead, it grew heavier due to the urgency of time.

The air was filled with the smell of disinfectant—pungent and suffocating.

Lin Fan didn't plead for mercy or play the victim. He simply nodded calmly, folded the payment slip neatly, and placed it into his inner pocket.

"Understood. I'll get the money together."

After saying that, he turned and left.

His silhouette was thin, yet he looked like an unsheathed blade.

Leaving the hospital, Lin Fan hailed a hover-taxi and headed straight for the western outskirts of Jianghai Jianghai.

Western District Scrap Collection Depot.

This was the largest distribution center for low-level materials in all of Jianghai Jianghai, as well as a den of vice for countless scavengers and low-level martial artists. The air was perpetually thick with the smell of rotting blood and engine oil.

To ordinary people, this place was hell.

But for Lin Fan, who possessed the 【myriad races blind box system】, this was an untapped gold mine.

Since the blind box business had already made a name for itself, he had to strike while the iron was hot and expand production. Those few Rot Wolf corpses yesterday were just testing the waters; today, he planned to go big.

"Old Chen!"

Lin Fan walked familiarly into a tin shack with a sign that read "Chen's Material Recycling."

He used to come here often to sell the junk he scavenged, so he was an old acquaintance of the owner, Old Chen.

"Give me fifty... no, a hundred intact low-level alien corpses. Any species is fine, as long as they've been dead for no more than three days. I want the wholesale price."

Lin Fan slammed the 【Alloy Battle Saber】 he got yesterday onto the counter with a heavy thud.

His presence was imposing.

This was the confidence only a big client possessed.

However, the expected enthusiasm did not materialize.

Old Chen, who was sitting behind the counter smoking a pipe, looked up at the sound.

Seeing it was Lin Fan, a flash of panic crossed his wrinkled face, which he immediately masked with a stern expression.

"No stock."

Old Chen tapped his pipe and turned his head away, no longer looking at Lin Fan. "Today's stock is all reserved. You should leave."

Lin Fan's eyebrow twitched slightly.

No stock?

What a joke.

When he walked in just now, he clearly saw the backyard piled high with freshly delivered corpses, the blood not even dry yet. Moreover, this was the largest distribution center in the Jianghai; how could they be out of stock?

"Old Chen, we've got a long history."

Lin Fan's fingers lightly tapped the tabletop, his voice flat. "I'll pay 1.2 times the market price. Cash on the spot."

Money talks.

In this wasteland era, no one would turn down money.

But Old Chen's reaction was unexpected.

As if he had been burned, he suddenly stood up and waved his hands vigorously: "I said no stock means no stock! It wouldn't matter if you offered ten times the price! Get out of here, don't be an eyesore and waste my business time!"

There was even a hint of terror in his eyes, as if he couldn't wait to distance himself.

Something was wrong.

Lin Fan keenly captured this emotion.

He didn't leave; instead, he took a step forward, leaning in slightly as the blood-qi pressure of a Fifth-Stage Martial Apprentice was instantly released.

"Old Chen, speak plainly."

Lin Fan stared into Old Chen's dodging eyes. "Who told you not to sell to me?"

In this place where profit was paramount, there was only one reason a greedy boss would refuse a deal at his door:

A greater power had intervened.

And it was a power Old Chen couldn't afford to offend.

Old Chen was forced back two steps by that pressure, bumping into the shelf behind him.

He swallowed hard, looked left and right, and lowered his voice with a bitter expression: "Lin Fan, don't make things hard for me. I've got a small business, and I still need to make a living in Jianghai Jianghai."

He extended a rough finger and pointed cryptically upward.

"Just half an hour ago, someone sent word to every collection station in the Western District. If anyone dares to sell you even a single bone, they can forget about opening their shop tomorrow."

"The Wang family?"

Lin Fan uttered two words.

Old Chen didn't speak; he just nodded helplessly, then turned around to tidy the shelves, adopting a posture of seeing a guest out.

It was indeed Wang Teng.

Lin Fan walked out of the tin shack and stood on the dusty street.

The sunlight was somewhat dazzling.

He visited several other nearby collection points in succession.

The results were identical.

Some bosses spoke tactfully, saying stock was tight; others were cold and told him to get lost. There were even a few shops where burly men in black uniforms with the character "Wang" embroidered on their chests stood at the entrance, staring at everyone coming and going with malicious eyes.

A Jianghai-wide blockade.

This was the power of capital.

As a giant in medicinal herbs and materials in Jianghai Jianghai, the Wang family controlled the entire low-end supply chain of the Jianghai. With just one word from Wang Teng, he could cut off all of Lin Fan's sourcing channels.

This was a dimensional strike.

Wang Teng didn't need to compete with Lin Fan in martial prowess, nor did he need to cause trouble at the night market. He only needed to lift a finger and use his family's commercial monopoly to leave Lin Fan's "blind box business" with nothing to cook.

Without alien corpses, he couldn't make blind boxes.

Without making blind boxes, he couldn't earn money.

Without earning money, Xiao Ya would die.

This was a vicious scheme.

Sinister, direct, and effective.

*Ding-dong.*

The phone vibrated.

A text message from an unknown number.

【Wang Teng: Big Boss Lin, is business booming? I heard you're looking everywhere to buy corpses? Don't waste your breath. As long as I, Wang Teng, am around, you won't be able to buy a single hair in this Jianghai Jianghai. Want to do business? Fine, come kneel before me, spit out yesterday's money, and give me three kowtows; maybe then I'll reward you with a few rotten bones. — Your VIP customer.】

Even through the screen, one could smell the arrogant stench of a petty man in power.

Wang Teng was forcing him to submit.

He was enjoying this cat-and-mouse game. He wanted to watch Lin Fan struggle in despair, to see Lin Fan forced to crawl like a dog to his feet to beg for his sister's life.

Lin Fan looked at the lines of text.

He wasn't angry.

On the contrary, the corners of his mouth slowly curled up, revealing an extremely dangerous smile.

There was no warmth in that smile, only a chill as sharp as a blade.

"Idiot."

Lin Fan turned off the phone screen and casually shoved it back into his pocket.

Wang Teng's biggest mistake was using the logic of an ordinary person to measure Lin Fan.

In Wang Teng's eyes, Lin Fan was a businessman, a peddler who relied on a supply chain.

But for Lin Fan...

The system was called the 【Ten Thousand Races blind box】, not the 【Scrap Recycling blind box】!

The raw materials for making blind boxes were never meant to be "bought."

Purchased corpses were mostly processed, defective goods with severe energy loss and dried-up essence blood. Blind boxes made from such things not only had low quality but also couldn't reach high return multipliers.

True top-grade blind boxes had to be made from the freshest, most intact corpses—even those still carrying residual warmth!

"Want to cut off my path?"

Lin Fan looked up, his gaze passing over the low-lying shantytown before him and casting toward the towering alloy Jianghai walls at the edge of the Jianghai.