3: Chapter 3 The First Blind Box

Can this thing really sell for 10,000?

Lin Fan weighed the heavy black box in his hand, his fingertips tracing over the intricate and obscure patterns on its surface.

10,000 alliance coins.

For those wealthy young masters who spent their days hanging around the CBD area, it was nothing more than the corkage fee for a bottle of red wine.

But for Lin Fan right now, this money was enough to buy two low-level gene stabilizers, allowing his younger sister, who was lying in the life-support pod, to live for three more days.

[Rot Wolf blind box (Ordinary)]

[Probability of included items:]

[70% probability: Rot Wolf fur, fangs, sharp claws (trash materials, recycling value about 500).]

[29% probability: essence blood, wolf heart (low-level alchemy materials, market price about 2,000).]

[0.9% probability: undamaged D-grade beast soul/skill book (market price: 50,000 - 100,000).]

[0.1% probability: ??? (hidden item).]

The data on the system panel was cold and direct.

"This is such a rip-off."

Lin Fan couldn't help but curse.

Unless someone was a complete fool, who would spend 5,000 to gamble on trash that had a high probability of being worth only 500?

This was even more unscrupulous than the underground casinos in the black market.

Even that 0.9% chance for a D-grade beast soul was just a slightly more valuable toy in the eyes of true experts.

Who would buy this kind of blind box?

Just as Lin Fan was preparing to curse this rip-off system to high heaven, the light screen on his retina suddenly flickered, and a line of striking, blood-red characters forced their way into his vision.

[Host, please note that this system is called the Myriad Races blind box, not a charity blind box.]

[The true value of the blind box lies not in "selling," but in "returning."]

[Core passive, hundredfold return (current level: 10-20 times):]

[When a customer opens a blind box, regardless of what item is pulled, the Host will receive a critical return of the same type and higher quality.]

[Return multiplier: minimum 10 times, maximum 100 times.]

[Example: If a customer pulls a Rot Wolf leg bone (trash), the Host might receive a Refined Iron Bone (D-grade material) or Adamantine Wolf Bone (C-grade material).]

[Example: If a customer pulls a D-grade Strength Talent, the Host might receive a B-grade "Giant Strength" or even an A-grade "Mountain Shaker" talent.]

At this moment, the wind stopped.

The nauseating stench of the wasteland seemed to have vanished.

Lin Fan stared fixedly at those few lines of blood-red text, his heart feeling as though it had been tightly gripped by an invisible hand, then began to pound frantically against his chest.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

So that was it.

This was the correct way to use this system!

The so-called blind box was just a facade, a lure.

The real treasure was the hundredfold return!

As long as he could sell them, as long as someone opened them.

Even if a customer pulled a pile of trash, he would still be guaranteed to make a profit without loss.

And once someone got lucky and pulled that 0.9% D-grade beast soul...

Wouldn't he take off instantly?

This wasn't just a golden finger; this was clearly a golden path leading to becoming the world's richest person and reaching the pinnacle of martial arts!

"Hoo..."

Turbid air flooded into his lungs, forcibly suppressing the restless hot blood in his body.

The confusion and hesitation in Lin Fan's eyes were burned away completely, replaced by a sense of confidence and ambition for the future.

Make money.

Must make money.

Not just for his sister's surgery fees, but to live like a human being in this man-eating world!

If it were before, if he had been asked to swindle people into buying these blind boxes that were guaranteed to lose money, he might have felt a shred of guilt.

But now?

How much is a pound of conscience worth?

In this era where strength is paramount, weakness is the original sin.

As long as he could become stronger, as long as he could save Xiaoya, let alone selling blind boxes, he would sell his soul to the devil without hesitation.

Besides, this couldn't even be considered a scam.

Can the affairs of gamblers be called a scam?

It's like Zhou Yu beating Huang Gai; one is willing to hit, and the other is willing to take it.

"Three blind boxes, 30,000 in principal... no, that's startup capital."

Lin Fan nimbly took off his blood-stained jacket and carefully wrapped up the three pitch-black wooden boxes.

These weren't just some rotten wood; these were his chips to turn his life around, his sister's life-saving medicine.

He couldn't stay here for long.

The commotion from the fight earlier wasn't small, and the smell of blood would soon attract stronger exotic beasts, or even those murderous scavengers.

Even though his Qi and Blood value had risen to 0.9, he was still just an ant that could be crushed at will in front of a real martial artist.

Retreat!

Lin Fan shouldered the package and, like a nimble wild cat, sprinted toward the direction of the safe zone under the cover of the ruins' shadows.

...

Half an hour later.

Jianghai City, public shower point in the outer district.

Cold water poured down from the rusty showerhead, washing over his slightly thin but well-defined body.

Dark red blood water snaked down the drain.

Lin Fan raised his head and looked at the youth in the mirror.

His wet, messy hair stuck to his forehead, and his features were still the same, but the cowardice and humility caused by long-term malnutrition had vanished without a trace.

In their place was an edge like a drawn blade.

It was a ruthlessness that seeped from his bones after seeing blood and taking lives.

"One million, one week."

Lin Fan turned off the faucet and casually threw on a faded T-shirt.

Conventional methods definitely wouldn't be fast enough.

Get a job?

Even if he broke his back moving bricks without sleep, he wouldn't earn a million in a hundred years.

Go hunting?

With his current strength, going back to the wasteland would be suicide.

He was lucky with those three Rot Wolves earlier; if he tried again, he would definitely be the one to die.

The only way was through those three blind boxes.

Where was the biggest money pit in Jianghai City?

Not the auction house in the city center; the threshold there was too high, and he couldn't even get past the doormen.

Nor the black market; that place devoured people without spitting out bones, and with his meager strength, he'd probably be stripped down to his underwear if he went in.

There was only one place.

Martial Artist Night Market.

That was where all sorts of people gathered; it was the most chaotic, most noisy, and most miracle-filled place in Jianghai City.

Whether it was students who had just awakened, mercenaries who licked blood off their blades, or even scouts from big families, they all went there to hunt for treasures.

As long as the item was strange enough, and the gimmick was sufficient, there was nothing that couldn't be sold.

"Tonight, I'll go there."

Lin Fan picked up a piece of relatively clean cardboard from beside a trash can on the side of the road and rummaged through his schoolbag to find a marker that was running out of ink.

The tip of the pen scraped against the rough cardboard, making a rustling sound.

What to write?

"Honest business, no cheating customers"?

Too cheesy, no one would look.

"Top-tier blind box, guaranteed big rewards"?

Too fake, that's treating customers like fools.

Lin Fan paused, memories flashing through his mind of the stone gambling scenes from his past life that had caused countless people to lose their fortunes, and the unboxing videos that sent people's adrenaline soaring.

Human nature is inherently greedy.

The more dangerous and unknown something is, the more it can stir up the deepest desires in a person's heart.

With a flick of his wrist, several wild, cursive characters jumped onto the cardboard; the handwriting was sloppy, yet it exuded a sense of arrogance and defiance.

With this stroke, he was gambling not just with the customers' money, but with his own life, Lin Fan's life.

...

The lights came on at dusk.

Jianghai City, West District, Martial Artist Night Market.

This was the most noisy wound in this steel jungle.

The air was mixed with the smell of cheap tobacco, cumin from roasted meat, and sweat.

Huge neon signs flickered overhead, casting the entire street in a bizarre, kaleidoscopic light.

"Walnuts from a Tier-2 Demon Ape! Spin them! Strengthen your body, prolong your life!"

"Newly unearthed relics from the old era! Suspected alien technology! Don't miss out as you pass by!"

"Super Strength Potion! Ancestral secret recipe, one bottle to refresh your mind, two bottles for eternal energy, three bottles for immortality!"

The sounds of hawking, bargaining, and occasional outbursts of conflict and cursing converged into a massive wave of sound, assaulting everyone's eardrums.

Lin Fan stood at the entrance of the night market, clutching the package tightly in his arms.

Even standing at the very edge, he could feel the heat and pressure rushing toward him.

Among the passing crowd, there was no shortage of powerful martial artists.

They wore well-made combat uniforms, with gleaming alloy battle blades tucked at their waists, their gazes condescending.

By comparison, Lin Fan, in his cheap clothes, was like a sheep that had wandered into a wolf pack.

"Move, move! Don't block the way!"

A burly man roughly shoved Lin Fan aside, the force from his shoulder making Lin Fan stumble back two steps.

The burly man turned back to glare, and seeing Lin Fan's ragged attire, spat disdainfully: "Where did this poor student come from? Not even grown up yet and coming to the night market? Go home and drink some milk!"

A few bursts of laughter rang out around them.

Lin Fan didn't speak, just reached out to pat his wrinkled sleeve.

No anger, no shame.

In this world where strength is paramount, the dignity of the weak is thinner than paper.

If you want others to respect you, you have to show the strength to make them shut up, or... interests that make them go crazy.

He tightened his grip on the cardboard in his arms and stepped into the crowd.

He didn't go to the prime stalls with the highest foot traffic; he couldn't afford the stall fees there.

He walked straight toward a spot in the furthest corner of the night market.

It was right next to a public toilet, with a foul smell and dim lighting, making it the most desolate dead corner of the entire night market.

But it was also the only free place.

"This will do."

Lin Fan squatted down and propped the tattered piece of cardboard up in front of him.