15: Chapter 15 Wanbao Pavilion

Early the next morning, Li Zhengyang took a taxi straight to the west of the city.

The old street wasn't long, lined with old buildings on both sides. At the end, he turned into an even narrower alley, where No. 14 was located.

The storefront of Wanbao Pavilion wasn't large, but the moment he pushed open the door and stepped inside, he knew it was no ordinary shop.

The counter was made from a single slab of granite, polished well enough to reflect a silhouette. Display frames for various spiritual materials hung on the wall, with black velvet lining each compartment.

A woman sat behind the counter.

She was in her thirties, with short hair, gold-rimmed glasses, and a neatly tailored qipao, with a string of Buddhist beads on her left wrist.

The moment Li Zhengyang walked in, he felt it.

A fluctuation of blood qi.

And it wasn't weak.

He couldn't judge her exact level, only certain that she was higher than him, or at least in the same tier.

For someone like her to run a shop buying spiritual materials in a dusty corner of an old street, the waters here ran deep.

"Beast cores, 3rd rank, three of them."

Without exchanging pleasantries, Li Zhengyang pulled three monster cores from his pocket and placed them on the counter.

The woman set down her teacup, picked up one, examined it, turned it over, and flicked it lightly, producing a crisp hum.

"Two cores from Rock-Spine Beasts." She set it down and picked up the third. "This one is a bit different; it doesn't look natural."

"Boss, do you also ask about the source?"

The woman pushed up her glasses and didn't press further.

"The quality is good, with few impurities. 120,000 for the package of three."

It wasn't a high price, but it wasn't a rip-off either.

The key was that it was quick and hassle-free.

"Deal."

The woman scanned a code, and 120,000 arrived in his account.

Li Zhengyang put away his phone and turned to leave.

"Wait a moment."

The woman called out to him, her gaze peering over her glasses as she sized him up for a few seconds.

"Young man, did you hunt these alone?"

"Yes."

"A 3rd rank monster, alone, and you hunted three of them?"

"Just good luck."

The woman nodded, pulled a business card from under the counter, and slid it over.

"I buy beast cores and rare spiritual materials on a long-term basis. If you can provide a stable supply, we can negotiate a higher price. If the volume is large, adding ten percent per core won't be an issue."

Li Zhengyang picked up the card and took a look.

Manager of Wanbao Pavilion, Su Jin.

Below her name was just a mobile number, with nothing else printed.

"Sure, let's add each other's contact info." He recited his number.

Su Jin saved the number and took a sip from her teacup. "There aren't many young people in this line of work, and even fewer who can bring 3rd rank beast cores to my counter alive. How old are you?"

"Twenty."

Su Jin said nothing more and simply nodded.

Li Zhengyang left Wanbao Pavilion and turned into an empty dead-end alley nearby.

He pulled out his phone to check; he had a total of 430,000.

4,300 points of blood qi.

His current blood qi was 6,328. Adding 4,300 would make it 10,628.

The threshold for a 1st Rank Great Martial Master is 10,000.

It was enough.

Top up.

Enter amount: 430,000.

Confirm.

[Top-up successful!]

[Top-up amount: 430,000]

[Blood qi obtained: +4,300]

[Current blood qi: 10,628]

[Detected blood qi threshold breakthrough]

[Realm Breakthrough: Seventh-Rank Martial Master -> 1st Rank Great Martial Master!]

This breakthrough was different from any of the previous ones.

There was no warm current, nor any cracking of bones.

Instead, it was an expanding sensation from the inside out, as if his entire body had been stuffed into a high-pressure vessel.

Astral qi surged out of his body, not just covering his skin, but expanding outward.

The air within a three-meter radius vibrated with a low hum under the pressure, and cracks appeared on the ground beneath his feet.

Great Martial Master.

The gap between a Martial Artist and a Great Martial Master was even wider than that between a Martial Warrior and a Martial Artist.

A Martial Artist's astral qi clings to the body, while a Great Martial Master's astral qi can be slightly projected outward.

The textbooks call this 'Astral Qi Projection'.

Li Zhengyang raised his right hand and splayed his fingers.

A vortex of air condensed in his palm, visibly warping and distorting the surrounding air.

Meanwhile, in the east of the city.

The head office of Speed Loan Treasure.

"Say that to me one more time?"

Behind the desk sat a short, stout man in his fifties. Balding, with his eyebrows knitted tightly together, he held a report that he had crumpled in his grip.

Qian Long stood before the desk, his back bent and his head lowered.

"President Sun, that's just how things are. That kid is quite strong—a 4th Rank Martial Artist. I couldn't beat him."

"I sent you to collect a debt! And you went and gave him another hundred thousand!" The short, stout man slammed his palm on the desk. "Are you running a fucking charity? Huh?"

Qian Long remained silent.

"The first loan was ten thousand, and you couldn't even collect that after it went overdue. Then you added another hundred thousand! One hundred and ten thousand! If you can't get it back, I'm docking it from your fucking salary!"

"President Sun, this kid is a 4th Rank Martial Artist in his early twenties. He's bound to be worth a lot in the future."

"Worth a lot? Worth your mother's ass!" The short, stout man stood up, walked around the desk, and stopped in front of Qian Long. "Just because a debtor says he'll be valuable in the future, you believe him? You've been in debt collection for over a decade, has your brain been eaten by dogs?"

Qian Long lowered his head even further.

The short, stout man paced around the office twice, breathing heavily, before finally coming to a halt.

"Old Feng."

On the sofa in the corner, a figure stirred.

He hadn't spoken or moved the entire time, his presence so faint that Qian Long hadn't even noticed someone was there when he entered.

The man stood up.

He was 1.9 meters tall, lean, with an expressionless face, wearing an old military jacket.

His right hand had only four fingers, with a bare stump where his pinky should have been.

Sweat instantly broke out on Qian Long's forehead.

A Great Martial Master.

In a small city like this, what did a Great Martial Master represent? They were qualified to teach undergraduate martial arts.

An ordinary small company couldn't afford to hire one at all.

"Old Feng used to be an instructor at the Northern Military Region's Martial Arts Special Training Camp, a 2nd Rank Great Martial Master," the short, stout man introduced with a hint of pride in his voice. "He left the military later due to some personal reasons, and now he helps me out with a few things."

Personal reasons.

Qian Long had heard of this man. Feng Tiezhu, retired from the Northern Military Region, had taught undergraduate martial arts for a year but was forced to resign after injuring a student during a drunken episode.

From the regular army, to an undergraduate instructor, and now to a thug for a loan company—this man's career path was like a roller coaster.

But his strength was the real deal.

A 2nd Rank Great Martial Master was hard to find a match for in this city, except among professional martial artist squads.

Feng Tiezhu picked up a cup from the sofa, and Qian Long caught the scent of alcohol.

"Send me the address," Feng Tiezhu said hoarsely, keeping it brief.

The short, stout man smiled. "I can rest easy when Old Feng is on the job. Remember, getting the money back is secondary; subdue him first. If the kid doesn't cooperate, you know what to do."

Feng Tiezhu had already reached the door, never once looking back.

Meanwhile, Li Zhengyang wasn't idling.

He browsed through the D-rank and C-rank mission lists, accepting five of them in one go.

The receptionist had changed; it wasn't Liu Ting, but a young man wearing glasses.

"Five missions? By yourself?"

"Yes, alone."

The young man looked at his certified rank—Seventh-Rank Martial Master—and then at the difficulty of the missions.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Hurry up."

After completing the registration and leaving the hall, Li Zhengyang noticed a few people squatting by the wall, cursing.

"Fuck! Sniped again!" a bearded man cursed, slapping his thigh. "I've been eyeing that C023 order for two days, and it vanished the moment it refreshed!"

A short man beside him chimed in, "Not just yours. D019, D021, and D025 are all gone, all taken by a single person! Who the hell is so badass?"

"I heard from the front desk that it's some kid in his twenties. He's sweeping through D-ranks like he's sweeping the shelves."

"Alone? He must be bullshitting, right?"

The group grumbled in the corner.

As Li Zhengyang walked past them, the bearded man looked up at him, then glanced at the long spear on his back.

"Is that him?"

The short man nodded.

The bearded man stood up. Sensing the fluctuations in Li Zhengyang's aura, he wanted to say something, but his mouth twitched and he sat back down.

These days, it was getting harder and harder for martial artist squads to make a living.

Li Zhengyang left the agency and hailed a car.

Today's goal: five missions, plus the Rock-Spine Beast bounty in the Beishan Mineral Vein Belt—kill as many as possible.

At a conservative estimate, today's income wouldn't be less than 600,000.

Halfway through the ride, his phone rang.

An unknown number.

He picked it up.

"Li Zhengyang?" a raspy voice asked.

"Who is this?"

"The money you owe—when do you plan on paying it back?"