I glanced at the sky. Evening was settling over the city, painting it in deepening shades of orange and gold.
The bandit confrontation will be late evening, I calculated. I have two, maybe three hours.
But first, there's something important I need to finish.
Mo Fan's serious little face flashed through my mind, how he'd stood guard at my door despite being only six years old, trying so desperately to be strong and responsible for his sister.
And Mo Ling's innocent laughter, the way she'd clung to my sleeve with complete trust, calling me "Big Browther Shen" in her bright, hopeful voice.
Their father had been missing for three months.
I couldn't bring him back if he was dead. That was beyond my capabilities.
But I could at least give those children answers. Closure, if nothing else. They deserved that much.
And if he's alive, I thought grimly, my jaw tightening, I'll make damn sure he returns to them.
Uncertainty is its own kind of torture, especially for children.
I knew that better than most because I had lived with it in my past life, that hollow ache of not knowing, of waiting for something that never came.
I refused to let these innocent souls carry that same pain as me.
I navigated through the evening crowd, heading toward the district where the Mercenary Guild was located.
The streets here were different from the commercial areas I'd just left. Rougher, more chaotic.
Loose cultivators in mismatched robes lounged against walls or gathered in small groups, discussing missions and opportunities in low voices.
The atmosphere was competitive, almost predatory. Everyone was looking for their next big break, their chance to earn enough spirit stones to advance their cultivation or simply survive another month.
This is where the desperate come, I observed soberly. Those who failed sect recruitment, those expelled from their families, those with no better options.
The Mercenary Guild is their lifeline and their trap.
The guild building loomed ahead, impossible to miss even among the various establishments surrounding it.
It was a large three-story structure built from dark gray stone, far more imposing than elegant.
Unlike the refined facade of Jin Shang Hall with its artistic carvings and welcoming atmosphere, this building was purely functional.
Thick walls that could withstand attacks, reinforced doors bound with metal, and guard formations visibly etched into the entrance pillars, glowing faintly with protective energy.
They're not trying to attract with beauty, I noted. They're demonstrating strength. A different kind of advertisement entirely.
A constant stream of people flowed in and out through the wide entrance.
Most were loose cultivators, easily identified by their mismatched robes, varied cultivation levels, and the weapons openly displayed at their sides or backs.
Some looked like hardened veterans. Scarred faces, wary eyes that constantly swept their surroundings, movements that spoke of countless battles survived.
Others appeared younger, eager but inexperienced, probably fresh from failed sect recruitments and desperately seeking alternative paths to power and wealth.
I merged into the flow of people and entered through the main doors.
The interior was organized chaos given physical form.
The main hall was vast, easily fifty zhang across, I estimated, with high ceilings supported by thick wooden beams reinforced with metal brackets.
The space could probably hold several hundred people comfortably, and it currently seemed to be testing that capacity.
One entire sidewall was covered in mission boards. Massive wooden panels displaying hundreds of jade slips, each one representing a commissioned task waiting for someone desperate or skilled enough to accept it.
The missions were organized by difficulty and reward, with different colored tags indicating danger levels.
I could see cultivators crowding around the boards, pushing and shoving as they scanned for opportunities that matched their abilities and risk tolerance.
Arguments broke out occasionally over particularly lucrative missions, voices rising in heated disputes about who had spotted the posting first or who was more qualified.
The guild's enforcement cultivators, easily identified by their black robes with red trim, stationed around the hall kept things from escalating into actual violence, though they seemed content to let verbal conflicts resolve themselves.
Typical, I observed with dark amusement. Even in a cultivation world, people scramble for scraps while the truly valuable opportunities are handled behind closed doors, far from this public spectacle.
Along the opposite wall ran a long counter, at least ten zhang in length, manned by what had to be twenty or more attendants.
Each one processed mission acceptances and completions with practiced efficiency, their hands moving in blurs as they exchanged mission tokens for rewards or new assignments.
Lines formed and dissolved constantly, the flow of cultivators creating a dynamic pattern of movement across the hall.
The noise was substantial. Haggling, complaints, celebrations over completed bounties, all blending into a constant din.
I moved away from the crowd gathered around the mission boards, navigating toward the counter area with careful steps.
I waited patiently at an open section until one of the attendants noticed me.
He was a young man with tired eyes and the slightly hunched posture of someone who'd been working too many hours without adequate rest.
"Yes, customer?" he addressed me with professional courtesy despite his obvious fatigue. "Do you wish to accept a mission or report completion?"
"Neither," I replied clearly. "I need to commission a task. Where should I go for that?"
His expression shifted immediately to something more attentive and engaged. Commissioned tasks meant money, and money meant better treatment even for exhausted attendants.
"Ah, of course, honoured customer." He gestured toward a row of private rooms on the opposite side of the hall, partially hidden behind decorative screens.
"The commission department handles all special requests and private contracts. An attendant there will guide you through the process and discuss rates."
I cupped my fists respectfully. "Thank you for your assistance."
He returned the gesture with more energy than he'd shown initially, already turning to address the next person in line with renewed vigor.
Money talks, even here, I thought with wry amusement.
I crossed the main hall, weaving between clusters of cultivators engaged in animated discussions about mission strategies and reward splits, and approached the private room area.
The difference in atmosphere was immediate and striking. Quieter, more refined, with actual privacy formations glowing softly along the corridor walls.
This area was clearly meant for clients with actual wealth rather than desperate mission-takers scrambling for copper coins.
An attendant stood waiting near the entrance, a young woman dressed in the guild's black uniform with silver trim indicating her role in client services.
She bowed slightly as I approached, her movements graceful and practiced.
"Welcome, honored customer. Are you here to commission a task?"
"Yes."
"Excellent. Please follow me."
Her tone was warm and professional, a stark contrast to the chaos of the main hall behind us.
She led me down a short corridor lined with identical wooden doors, each one sealed with basic privacy formations that hummed softly with active energy.
Stopping at one of the middle doors, she opened it smoothly and gestured inside.
"Please make yourself comfortable, honored customer. An agent will be with you shortly to discuss your requirements."
The room was simple but clean and well-maintained. A low table of polished wood, cushioned seats on either side upholstered in dark fabric, and a small tea set arranged neatly on a side tray.
Privacy formations glowed faintly along all four walls, ensuring conversations wouldn't be overheard.
Much better environment for sensitive discussions, I approved.
I settled into one of the cushioned seats and waited, my mind organizing what information I could safely share about Mo Wuliang without revealing too much about myself.
After perhaps five minutes, the door opened again.
A woman entered with confident strides, dressed in the guild's standard black robes with her face covered by a dark veil that left only her eyes visible.
The concealment was standard practice. Many agents preferred anonymity to avoid potential retaliation.
"Good evening, honored customer," she said, her voice pleasant and professional as she settled into the seat across from me. "I am Agent Ling. How may the Mercenary Guild serve you today?"
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ASCENSION FARMING SYSTEM : FARM TO BECOME IMMORTAL CULTIVATOR
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