Chapter 148: 148. Chapter 146: The Black Market of Six-Direction City (Bonus Chapter 4)

148. Chapter 146: The Black Market of Six-Direction City (Bonus Chapter 4)

As soon as Ding Huan entered Six-Direction City, he thought to himself that all the resources of Six-Direction Starland had probably been poured into developing this city.

After entering the city, the streets stretched in all directions, and his spiritual sense swept out—every alleyway was wide and bustling.

Here, shops of all sizes, merchant buildings, and inns stood thickly, and countless languages filled the air.

Yet during normal conversations, almost everyone used Cangyu.

Ding Huan wanted to live somewhere with the most reliable rumors and close to the Lord Mayor's mansion.

He held a treasure to present with his entry token; this treasure was most likely near the Lord Mayor's mansion, since this was the center of the entire Six-Direction Starland.

He had no intention of searching for it himself here.

This place was too complex; he didn't know it at all and couldn't treat it like the Small Star Corner Market.

Ding Huan found a realty office.

So many people came here looking for housing that although realty offices were numerous, queues still formed.

Ding Huan didn't join the queue first—he first inquired about rental prices here.

Five thousand purple gold coins could buy him a small courtyard at double the market price in the Small Star Corner Market, but here, five thousand purple gold coins were only one year's rent.

This was for decent housing, which cost more.

Even higher prices existed—homes costing over ten thousand or even tens of thousands of purple gold coins per year were not rare.

Of course, most homes cost between one hundred and one thousand purple gold coins per year, and some even cost just dozens of purple gold coins.

Homes costing dozens of purple gold coins—he didn't need to see them; he knew they didn't meet his requirements.

"Xinyue, let's stay at an inn for now, then we'll move."

Ding Huan didn't have many purple gold coins; most of what he'd earned went to Liditing after buying materials.

Liditing had helped him immensely; otherwise, he never would have qualified to enter Six-Direction City.

Inns were easier to find, since it wasn't a major trading period.

Six-Direction Starland had one major trading period each year, during which people from all starlands flooded here—it was nearly impossible to find an inn.

Ding Huan simply found an ordinary inn; even an ordinary one charged thirty purple gold coins per night for three people.

Purple gold coins were the most quickly spent currency in Six-Direction City.

"Be careful."

Qi Xinyue knew what Ding Huan intended to do and gave him a nervous warning.

"Don't worry, I know."

Ding Huan signaled for Qi Xinyue not to be concerned.

He had wandered the cosmos for a hundred or two hundred years—he knew exactly how to behave in places like this.

If he thought the Deposit Cards of Tuo Jie and Jin were anonymous and just went to withdraw money freely, he'd be asking for death.

Ding Huan carried three deposit cards, each of which could withdraw money from any bank.

But Ding Huan had no intention of withdrawing money from those banks.

He planned to go to the black market.

Ding Huan wasn't worried whether a black market existed here.

Wherever there is demand, there is a market.

This was an ironclad law, not subject to human will.

Ding Huan left the inn disguised and invisible; as soon as he exited, he found a small market.

Such small markets were countless in Six-Direction City—there were as many as you wanted.

Any market within Six-Direction City was never empty.

Ding Huan wandered the market and was pleasantly surprised to find that even this small market sold quasi-artifact weapons.

That meant the major merchant buildings must sell actual artifacts?

This discovery delighted him—he would buy a magical artifact sword as soon as he got his money.

"How much for this?"

Ding Huan walked up to a stall selling mineral materials and picked up a piece of Star Jade.

He had bought plenty of this Star Jade in the Small Star Corner Market, mainly for crafting talismans.

"Five purple gold coins," the vendor said flatly.

Ding Huan didn't bother haggling; Star Jade prices varied by quality, and the piece in his hand was decent.

"I've only been here a short while—ask a friend. How many black markets are nearby? Where exactly?"

Ding Huan picked up the Star Jade and asked casually.

Everyone knew about the black market; asking directly wouldn't seem odd.

Newcomers to Six-Direction Starland often didn't know about black markets, and thousands arrived here daily.

"Three: Thorn Alley Black Market, Old Wild Black Market, Night Hundred Star Black Market. Go there after midnight—you'll find them easily. Thorn Alley is the largest."

Seeing Ding Huan wanted to buy his Star Jade, the vendor answered frankly.

To people in the market, everyone knew about the black market—there was nothing to hide.

"I'll take this." Ding Huan tossed down five purple gold coins and quickly left with the Star Jade.

Ding Huan didn't return to the inn—he went to another market, buying some talisman-making materials while continuing to inquire about the black markets.

By nightfall, Ding Huan had mapped out the exact locations of all three black markets.

He chose not the largest—Thorn Alley—but not the smallest—Old Wild—instead, he picked Night Hundred Star Black Market.

According to what he'd learned, Night Hundred Star had the most complex clientele.

The boss of this black market was called Night Hundred Star—he was extremely powerful, and even the major clans rarely dared to offend him.

When he felt the time was right, Ding Huan arrived at the Night Baixing Black Market.

Though merely a medium-level black market, it was as bustling as the busiest downtown district.

Stalls were informal—anyone could set one up, and anyone could sell here.

No commission was taken.

But every person entering the black market, whether selling or buying, had to pay one purple gold coin.

Though one purple gold coin meant little to those who had reached Sihang City, from the crowd flow alone, Ding Huan knew this night's takings would easily exceed one hundred thousand purple gold coins.

Ding Huan wandered through the black market and found several money-chit trading venues.

The only difference was the commission rate varied—some took as much as thirty percent, with the most ruthless offering only seventy percent.

That meant if your money-chit held one hundred thousand purple gold coins, you'd receive at most seventy thousand when trading here.

Ding Huan carried three money-chits: two from Jin, worth one million and seven hundred thousand respectively.

The third was from Sister Tou, worth over one hundred thousand.

After comparing, Ding Huan chose the one offering eighty percent.

There was another place offering ninety percent, but Ding Huan didn't enter—he knew something was off.

The black market exists to make money; if eighty-five percent was the highest commission, why offer ninety?

The eighty-percent money-chit exchanges were the most numerous—they were unlikely to have major problems.

"Exchange money." Even wearing a disguise mask, Ding Huan still covered his face.

No one in the money-chit exchange cared whether Ding Huan covered his face; they cared only how many money-chits he brought.

Here, trading purple gold coins, a legitimate money-chit was the oddity. Legitimate money-chits went to banks to withdraw cash—why come to a black market?

"How much?" The speaker was a woman, also masked.

"Can you give more for one hundred seventy thousand?"

Ding Huan's voice was hoarse.

The woman, who had been indifferent, instinctively looked up at Ding Huan.

Money-chit trades were common here, but a single transaction of one hundred seventy thousand? There were few such cases.

Anyone with one hundred seventy thousand money-chits was no ordinary person.

If they weren't ordinary, their money-chits couldn't have been stolen.

"Wait a moment." The woman seemed to press something.

Soon, a middle-aged man hurried through the inner door.

Ding Huan's spiritual sense settled on the man—he knew at once: this man was also a cultivator, his strength between seventh- and ninth-grade Gene Cultivator.

What puzzled Ding Huan was that the man didn't wear a mask.

"You want to trade one hundred seventy thousand money-chits?"

As soon as the man arrived, his gaze locked onto Ding Huan.

"Correct. Can you give more?"

Ding Huan's voice remained hoarse.

"I can give you eighty-three percent."

As the man spoke, his eyes never left Ding Huan.

"Deal." Ding Huan reached out, snatched two money-chits, and tossed them onto the table.

The middle-aged man seized the money-chits, examined them closely, then nodded:

"Authentic. Wait while I fetch the money."

As he turned to leave, his speed was swift—but at the doorway, he found Ding Huan blocking his path.

"The money isn't here. Leave the money-chits first."

"Heh, I forgot—I'm sorry, sorry."

The man handed the money-chits back to Ding Huan, yet his heart churned like a storm-tossed sea.

His speed had been extreme—few could match it, unless they were Foundation Establishment experts.

Even then, he still hadn't seen how Ding Huan had moved to block him.

"If apologies worked, why need laws? You broke the rules first."

Ding Huan's voice turned icy.

He had traded in black markets too many times to know: here, you must never show weakness, never yield when you hold the advantage.

Here, you must press your advantage—or you'll be exploited, even targeted.

"I'll give you eighty-five percent," the man said apologetically.

"Ninety percent," Ding Huan's voice grew colder.

By black market rules, the exchange bore fault here; Ding Huan could demand anything.

As long as the demand was reasonable, it stood.

Ding Huan's demand for ninety percent was entirely reasonable—if the exchange refused, they'd have to see if Ding Huan was a ruthless man.

If he was ruthless, he'd storm inside.

"Fine. Ninety percent. How much in purple gold notes?" The middle-aged man was straightforward—he clearly knew he was wrong and immediately agreed.

"One hundred forty thousand in purple gold notes, the rest in purple gold coins."

Ding Huan instantly realized: one hundred fifty thousand purple gold coins—even if each coin was worth one hundred, the volume would still be substantial.

The middle-aged man nodded, then swiftly left.

Ding Huan wasn't worried—unless a Foundation Establishment cultivator came.

Even if one did, with his evasion technique and the black market's complex terrain, he could escape.

This time, the middle-aged man didn't cause any trouble; he brought one million four hundred thousand purple gold notes and thirteen thousand purple gold coins.

Ding Huan tossed the two deposit tokens in his hand to the man, grabbed the leather sack, and turned to leave.

"Uncle Lu, is this man very strong?"

After Ding Huan left, the woman asked.

"Very strong. I suspect he's a Foundation Establishment powerhouse."

The middle-aged man called Uncle Lu watched Ding Huan's retreating back, his heart still trembling with residual fear.