New information appeared in his mind as he smirked at the brightest core in the vault.
///// Introducing new feature [Core Identification]: Focus on a monster core to identify the name, energy, and benefits.
///// Nine Fangs Triple Dots Lightning Cobra Core
///// +27% energy at Four Fangs
///// +16 proficiencies to [Pinnacle Flash Lightning] Level 1
Feng Luotian's expression froze. The satisfied smirk faded, replaced by a weary, internal sigh. Can't you just let me be a reincarnator who holds an absolute advantage over others by using my vast knowledge and memories from another lifetime for once? If you're going to tell me more than I already know, then what's the point of being a reincarnator at all?
Despite his complaints, Luotian couldn't deny the value of the information. His memories told him a monster core's type, but the ancient records he had studied never gave exact proficiency yields. CRONOS supplied figures he could use immediately.
After a moment of rapid calculation, Luotian selected the solitary Nine Fangs Monster core, two Eight Fangs cores, and one Seven Fangs core. He looked up, his gaze steady. "I'll take these four, but their combined energy is not nearly enough to match the market value of this Talon core. I assume I may check the storefront and select more to even the scales?"
"Of course, Young Master!!" the shop owner replied immediately, his voice cracking slightly. He dared not risk offending the God's Son and stood trembling, a mix of professional excitement and primal anticipation radiating from his posture.
"Good. Take this then." With a casual flick of his wrist, Feng Luotian tossed the Wight Wolf core toward the man.
The shop owner's heart lurched. He hadn't expected Luotian to toss a Talon core as casually as a pebble. For a moment, he pictured the treasure slipping past his hands and shattering on the floorboards.
He lunged forward and caught it with both hands. Turning the core carefully, he inspected its smooth surface, his fear giving way to delight. His fingers still trembled, but he couldn't stop smiling at the treasure he had secured.
Meanwhile, Feng Luotian returned to the storefront. He moved with efficient grace, his eyes scanning the glowing displays for the specific signatures compatible with his Skills. He swept core after core into his travel bag, the heavy stones thudding against one another. By the time he finished his sweep, the bag was so gorged with power it looked as if the reinforced leather might burst at any moment.
But just as Feng Luotian reached the threshold of the gem shop, the owner's voice hurried after him, thick with urgency. "Young Master, wait! Please—accept this modest gift as a token of my sincere gratitude."
In the merchant's calculating mind, the scales were still tipped too heavily in his own favor. Luotian had surrendered a Talon-rank prize for mere Fangs; to a man of commerce, leaving such a massive favor unpaid was an unbearable risk. Favors from the powerful were like debts that grew interest in the dark, and he preferred to settle his accounts while the sun was still high.
After tactfully observing Luotian's strained posture under the weight of the enormous pile of Monster cores, the owner settled on the perfect gesture of appreciation. Bowing with practiced reverence, he presented a spatial ring—a silver band etched with micro-sigils, capable of anchoring a pocket dimension within its compressed space.
"Thank you," Luotian said, a flicker of genuine satisfaction glinting in his eyes as he accepted the relic. With a fluid wave of his hand, he triggered the ring's Ability, watching as the overstuffed bag and the loose Monster cores vanished into the void of the silver band.
As he probed the ring's interior with his intent, his sharp gaze caught the dull luster of several heavy sacks of gold coins nestled in the corner. This was the surplus—the exact balance he would have received had the transaction been strictly dictated by market rates. A small, knowing smile tugged at his lips. This merchant was not only astute but possessed a rare, forthright integrity in his dealings.
"Not at all, Young Master," the shop owner replied with a smile. "We've made a handsome profit from this trade. But carrying such wealth is bound to attract trouble. I'm afraid I can offer little protection, so please be careful."
"Oh?" Luotian's lips curved into a faint smirk. "If someone wants it, then let them come and try to take it."
He turned and strode from the shop without another word, his confidence radiating with every heavy footfall.
Moments later, as he navigated the winding streets, faint shadows flitted through the high alleys and across the sun-bleached rooftops. Their movements were a blur, barely perceptible to the untrained eye, but to a Cultivator of his experience, they were as loud as a thunderclap. Silent and deliberate, they trailed him like vultures stalking a dying beast.
The shop owner watched from the shadowed doorway, his face clouded with a sudden, heavy worry. A deep, ragged sigh escaped him. "How can he be so reckless? With his current cultivation, he might not even last half an hour against those circling predators. I can only hope some hidden guardian intervenes before the street runs red."
* * *
Feng Luotian continued down the street, apparently untroubled by his pursuers. The silver band of the spatial ring glinted on his hand, plainly visible to anyone watching. His smirk had not faded.
Instead of navigating toward the safety of the main thoroughfares or the city gates where the iron-clad guards could ensure his protection, Luotian deliberately veered into a narrow, suffocating alley.
The dim corridor, choked with the scent of damp earth and lined with weathered, crumbling bricks, held an eerie stillness that swallowed the sounds of the bustling market nearby. It was the perfect stage for the unfolding drama.
Once he confirmed the dead-end was deserted, he leaned casually against the grit of the wall. His posture was relaxed, his heartbeat steady, as though he were merely waiting for the arrival of old friends rather than a slaughter.
Not even a minute passed before three silhouettes fractured the alley entrance. They blocked the overhead sunlight, casting long, distorted shadows that slithered across the cobbles toward Feng Luotian like creeping serpents. These were the men from the gem shop—vultures who had watched his trade with a feverish, barely contained avarice.
The trio, their blonde hair gleaming with a greasy sheen in the low light, sauntered toward him. Their confidence was a thick, suffocating arrogance that filled the narrow space.
"Well, well. Good morning, God's Son! It seems you've been waiting for us," the leader sneered, the words dripping with a mocking cruelty.
"Since you already noticed us, why didn't you bolt for the crowds to beg for help?" another jeered, his hand resting on the hilt of a rusted blade.
"Anyway, just hand over that ring, and we'll ensure you walk away without a scratch," the leader added, stretching out a calloused hand as if the transaction were already a foregone conclusion.
Feng Luotian raised an eyebrow, a faint, mocking smile tugging at his lips. "Good morning, fellow brothers. As for your question, why don't you think for a moment? Why would I avoid a crowded place for our little transaction?"
One of the robbers snorted, the sound thick with derision. "Hmph! Don't tell me you're actually trying to deal with us in secret because you didn't want witnesses? Is that it, God's CRIPPLED Son?"
"Wow! You actually got it right in one try! You must be quite the scholar," Luotian said with mock enthusiasm, even rhythmically clapping his hands as though truly impressed by a toddler's first steps.
The trio exchanged incredulous glances before bursting into a cacophony of laughter. The sound bounced off the weathered bricks of the alley, sharp and mocking. "You really think a waste like you can defeat the three of us on your own?"
"Oh, you've got it all wrong," Luotian replied, shaking his head slightly, his posture loosening into something far more dangerous.
"What do you mean?" the leader asked, his amusement faltering as he felt a sudden, inexplicable prickle of cold sweat at the base of his neck.
Feng Luotian's smile vanished. He met their eyes and lowered his voice. "I'm not going to defeat you. I'm going to kill you."
The words struck like a physical thunderclap. The robbers froze, their bodies shuddering involuntarily as a wave of pure, unfiltered killing intent washed over them. For a heartbeat, the primal fear in their marrow outweighed their bravado. How could someone they dismissed as a powerless commoner radiate a presence that felt like a Monster looming in the dark?
But the sting of humiliation quickly burned through their terror. How dare a crippled son of a God instill such dread in them—established Cultivators? Fury surged, hot and reckless, and they roared in a ragged unison, "You bastard!"
Their Theríon flared to life, a golden radiance that filled the narrow alley with oppressive waves of power.
///// Four Fangs Blonde Feather Sonar Pigeon
///// [Sonar Hearing]: The user can hear much farther than others.
///// Three Fangs Blonde Feather Sonar Pigeon
///// Two Fangs Blonde Feather Sonar Pigeon
Even without CRONOS providing its surgical data, Feng Luotian had pinpointed their exact Cultivation levels the moment he crossed the shop's threshold. To his refined senses, their energy signatures were as glaring as the midday sun.
He didn't truly need to decipher their bloodlines or specific Abilities to gauge the threat; to a reincarnator with centuries of blood-soaked battle experience, fearing a trio of petty thugs—even those of an equivalent or lower rank—was an absurdity. His mind had already dismantled their stances before they even finished their roar.
Still, the detailed analysis flickering in his mind only deepened his disdain. Luotian's expression darkened into a mask of cold contempt as he spat, "With Abilities like yours, you could have served this city as an exceptional search team or elite intel scouts. Instead, you chose the path of a common thief. What a pathetic waste."
Luotian straightened from the brick wall and rolled his shoulders, his joints popping. A smirk returned to his face. "Enough talk. Let's fight and be done with it."
"Die!!" The three thugs roared in a ragged, desperate chorus as they lunged forward. Their fists and kicks hurtled toward him with reckless abandon, their senses blinded by adrenaline, completely oblivious to the cold, surgical killing intent radiating from their target.
Feng Luotian's eyes shone azure as he activated Momentum Eyes.
In a heartbeat, the world's frantic rhythm stuttered and slowed. The air turned viscous, and the frantic shouts of his attackers stretched into low, guttural groans. Thin, neon-blue trails of light ignited before his vision, tracing the trajectories of every incoming strike. It wasn't just the attacks he perceived; his Ability allowed him to see the shifting of their muscles and the distribution of their weight, making even the smallest preparations for their next strike clear.
Following those trajectories, Luotian moved his body with the fluid grace of a shadow. He sidestepped the first lunge with a fraction of an inch to spare, his calculations perfect, his breathing rhythmic. As the lead thug's fist entered his kill zone, Luotian shifted his center of gravity, pivoting on a heel to meet the incoming face with a counter-punch.
A split second later, the three-pronged assault had been effortlessly dismantled, and then—
BAM!!
The sound of the impact reverberated through the narrow alley like a hammer hitting an anvil. The thug with the highest Cultivation level—the four-fang leader—took the full weight of the strike directly to the bridge of his nose. Cartilage crunched audibly under the impact; a spray of hot, crimson blood erupted from his nostrils, splattering across the weathered bricks. The sheer, concentrated force of the blow sent him reeling backward, his boots scraping the cobbles as he clutched his shattered face in agonized disbelief.