Night fell, and the mountain winds outside Black Blood Stockade carried late autumn's biting chill, sweeping withered leaves into the air before slamming them harshly to the ground.

  Lin Mu wore a wide black conical hat, his form like a ghost melting into the darkness, once again stepping into that underground market perpetually shrouded in grey mist—Grey Street.

  Compared to his previous two visits when he'd been poor and walking on thin ice, this time he had far more confidence.

  With over a thousand Primeval Stones in his pocket, plus the Primeval Essence reserves of a peak Rank 1 cultivator practically overflowing, Lin Mu's steps remained deliberately slow to navigate the dark, damp flagstone path.

  Yet his every gesture now carried less of a newcomer's timidity and more of an unhurried composure.

  That temperament, tempered through life-and-death battles, often held more deterrent power in this motley Grey Street than gleaming blades.

  Just as he turned into a dim alley, several thugs who permanently lurked at Grey Street's edges—making their living by extorting newcomers and lone wanderers—approached from the shadows like hyenas catching the scent of blood.

  Though this group's cultivation was low, mostly unstable mid-Rank 1 half-baked practitioners, some merely stronger mortals, they naturally didn't dare make moves inside Grey Street proper—that would be suicide.

  But intimidating newcomers was their specialty.

  "Well, well, a fresh face. Know the rules? This street..."

  The scarred leader hadn't finished speaking when Lin Mu simply paused his steps.

  He didn't draw his blade, didn't speak.

  Beneath his hat's shadow, a wisp of ink-green Primeval Essence pressure belonging to a peak Rank 1 Gu Master rippled outward from the flagstones beneath his feet like something tangible.

  Cold, heavy, carrying a sharp killing intent forged in mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

  Scarface's voice cut off abruptly, as if an invisible hand had seized his throat.

  His arrogant expression instantly transformed to terror, his legs trembling uncontrollably as he stumbled back three steps, nearly collapsing to the ground.

  "Scram."

  Lin Mu lowered his voice, uttering a single word.

  The thugs fled as if granted amnesty, scrambling back into their dark corners, not daring to make another sound.

  In Grey Street, keeping your eyes sharp was the first rule of survival.

  A peak killer whose aura couldn't even be fully concealed was absolutely not someone they could afford to provoke.

  Having driven off the riffraff, Lin Mu navigated several winding alleys with practiced ease, pushing open the door of that dilapidated shop hung with desiccated organs.

  "Creak—"

  The door hinges made a teeth-grinding sound.

  Behind the counter, One-Eyed Old Ma was biting a pen, listlessly calculating figures in a worn ledger by the dim oil lamp.

  Hearing the noise, he merely raised his remaining eyelid lazily, clearly expecting nothing from a late-night walk-in customer.

  Lin Mu walked to the counter without deliberately concealing himself or lowering his voice to disguise himself as that "hoarse hunter."

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  He reached directly into his coat, pulled out a heavy cowhide pouch, and with no preamble, slammed it down on the counter with a resounding "bang."

  The pouch's drawstring wasn't tightly tied.

  Under the impact, the opening rolled outward, revealing the glistening, crystal-clear expanse of Primeval Stones within. Their clinking collision echoed through the silent shop like celestial music.

  Old Ma's half-dead single eye, upon seeing that gleam, suddenly blazed to life, shooting out two rays of greedy light.

  "Ho!"

  Old Ma straightened abruptly, not even noticing his pen falling to the floor.

  He stared fixedly at the pouch, his Adam's apple bobbing once. When he looked up at Lin Mu again, his wrinkled old face had blossomed into a chrysanthemum-like brilliant smile.

  "I knew it when I heard magpies calling this morning—an honored guest has arrived! Brother Lin, it's only been a few days. Did you go dig up some minor clan's ancestral tomb?"

  "Just earned some hard money doing business."

  Lin Mu ignored Old Ma's teasing and cut straight to the point, his voice calm yet carrying an unquestionable resolve:

  "Old Ma, I'll speak plainly. I need a Liquor Worm. Do you have one?"

  He didn't mention the "four famous wines."

  Such rare items, once sought, would immediately make someone as shrewd as Old Ma suspect he already possessed a Liquor Worm and was preparing for advancement fusion.

  In this world where killing for profit needed no justification, the more trump cards exposed, the faster one died.

  Simply buying the Liquor Worm was actually the most normal approach. After all, who wouldn't desire such a premium auxiliary Gu capable of suppressing across minor realms?

  However, upon hearing "Liquor Worm," Old Ma's brilliant smile instantly froze.

  He stared at Lin Mu for a long moment, as if looking at a madman who hadn't woken up.

  Then he leaned back in his chair, picked up his long pipe, took two puffs with clicking sounds, and let out an undisguised scoff:

  "Good sir, you haven't let a few stinking coins go to your head and mistaken my shabby shop for the main store in Shang Clan City, have you?"

  Old Ma tapped his pipe bowl on the table, pointing at the bag of Primeval Stones, ruthlessly shattering Lin Mu's fantasy:

  "Though the Liquor Worm is only Rank 1, it's a premium Gu capable of purifying Primeval Essence and suppressing across minor realms. In our impoverished corner of Southern Border, it's called 'priceless but unavailable'!"

  "Whenever a wild Liquor Worm appears, it gets fought over by elders and family heads from great clans, used to pave the way for their most core genius descendants. How would it ever drift down to a mud pit like Grey Street?"

  Old Ma sighed, exhaling a cloud of thick smoke, his tone revealing the cruelty and helplessness of Southern Border's lower echelons:

  "Brother Lin, forget that your bag only holds a thousand Primeval Stones. Even if you slapped two thousand on my counter today, I couldn't produce a living Liquor Worm for you."

  "In fact... throughout these Hundred Thousand Mountains, even a single confirmed sighting of a Liquor Worm can't be measured or bought with Primeval Stones!"

  "Ultimately, it's not about its rank—it's simply too rare."

  Lin Mu fell silent.

  Though he'd prepared himself mentally, hearing Old Ma's absolute refusal still made his heart sink.

  "Truly no leads at all?" Lin Mu frowned slightly, a hint of unwillingness in his voice.

  Without a second Liquor Worm, the Rank 2 fusion would remain a fantasy.

  Old Ma watched Lin Mu's expression, his single eye rolling a couple times, seemingly weighing something.

  After a long pause, he lowered his voice, his tone suddenly loosening somewhat:

  "A living Liquor Worm, I truly don't have. However... I do know a secret lead concerning Liquor Worms."

  A gleam flashed through Lin Mu's eyes: "Name your price."

  "No, no, no—for this information, I won't take Primeval Stones."

  Old Ma waved his hand, his smile turning cunning, even calculating.

  "I can give you the intelligence. I can even lower myself to act as middleman and make introductions. But in exchange, I need you to do something for me."

  "What?"

  "Make a delivery."

  Old Ma sighed, seemingly full of grievances, revealing the truth:

  "Some time ago, I took in a batch of 'hot' black market goods. Several Gu worms connected to a major clan's bloody case."

  "They still carry traces of their original owner's aura and hidden marks—impossible to sell anywhere around here. After much effort, I finally found a buyer willing to take them on the outskirts of Black Wind Ridge."

  "The buyer is a wandering demonic cultivator, suspicious by nature and extremely cautious. He absolutely refuses to trade within Grey Street, insisting on meeting in the wilderness."

  Old Ma gestured helplessly at his lame leg, self-deprecating:

  "You know, I made too many enemies when I was young. Grey Street is my safe haven—once I step outside, who knows how many people want my head for bounty money."

  "The rabble under my command can't handle important matters, and for this kind of shady business, I don't trust them."

  "So you want me to be your delivery boy?" Lin Mu looked at him coldly.

  "Brother Lin, I trust your skills and composure." Old Ma chuckled. "Besides, only you can handle this job. Meeting a demonic cultivator means risking your neck—without real strength, that's not making a delivery, that's becoming one."

  After hearing everything, the corner of Lin Mu's mouth beneath his hat couldn't help but curl into a hidden smile.

  This was practically a mission tailor-made for his Red Mud Gu!

  Others feared aura leakage leading to pursuit, but all he had to do was seal everything with red mud, and it would become the most ordinary stone—who could detect anything?