Chapter 441: Master, Did You Steal the Token?

I don’t remember buying this kind of antique.

A plain-looking plaque, neither quite iron nor quite stone, sat quietly beside the newspaper on the table—at first glance, indistinguishable from any other antique.

Wang Wen was certain he had never bought such an antique.

Everyone has some hobby; Wang Wen’s was mythology, and he was passionate about collecting odd and unusual antiques, believing these artifacts might be tied to the transcendent.

Wang Wen’s expression turned strange as he scanned the room, then picked up the golf club leaning beside the living room.

“Did a thief break into my house?”

He meticulously checked the entire house, inspected every possible hiding spot inside and out, and verified that nothing was missing.

Nothing was stolen, no one was hiding, no signs of forced entry or rummaged drawers—clearly, no burglar had come in.

“What’s going on? Ghosts?”

Wang Wen put down the golf club and stared at the plaque on the living room table.

As a top student and a professor, his memory was sharp—he was certain the plaque had appeared on the table out of nowhere, because the items on it were exactly what he’d left there last night while studying transcendent events.

He couldn’t possibly forget what happened just yesterday—he clearly remembered only the newspaper, transcendent research materials, a pen, and a cup on the table.

He picked up the plaque and turned it over, examining it from all sides.

“It looks a bit like an ancient token. Who put this in my house? What is it made of? I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ll ask Professor Qin tomorrow to identify the material.”

After checking that the plaque posed no danger, Wang Wen decided not to throw it away.

Still, he took precautions—he installed a small surveillance camera in the house overnight to see if someone was playing a prank by leaving the plaque here.

He didn’t know that, at the same moment, households across the world were all finding identical plaques appearing.

The plaques were identical to this one.

Those who received them showed no pattern—men and women, foreigners and citizens of Huaguo, shut-ins and office workers, social elites—their range was so vast it offered no clue.

But…

Not everyone was as carefree and meticulous as Wang Wen.

…

England.

During rush hour, Milwell took the elevator from his company building down to the underground parking lot.

Beep~

Unlocking his car, Milwell tossed his briefcase onto the passenger seat, ready to shift into gear and head home—when he noticed a plaque resting behind the gear selector.

“What’s this?”

Milwell picked up the plaque. When had he put this here?

“A prank? Did I buy it and forget? Or did some guy’s kid leave this toy in my car?”

After thinking it over and finding no answer, Milwell glanced at the plaque, rolled down the window, and tossed it into the trash bin beside the garage.

He decided to discard anything with no clear origin and no one asking him for it.

Not just Earth—across all realms and worlds, plaque incidents were occurring.

…

Another world.

Tianhong Realm.

Bai Yuanxian led Zhang Hao back to his cave dwelling.

After so many days away, he missed his messy little nest.

“Disciple, now that the Chen ancestral clan, the Heavenly God Temple, Lingxing Mountain, and the Divine Ming Gate have been wiped out, your enemies will likely fear you—but don’t grow arrogant or lower your guard. This is precisely when those plotting against you will strike when you’re vulnerable.”

“When you slew Chen Xuan before countless witnesses, who knows if someone spotted your ultimate treasure? Be extremely cautious. I plan to enter seclusion for a while to heal my injuries.”

Bai Yuanxian stepped into the cave.

Zhang Hao’s eyes filled with concern: “Seclusion? Master, are you really alright? Should I go find you a miraculous healing pill?”

Bai Yuanxian stroked his beard, smiling warmly:

“I’m fine. Saying I’m secluding to heal is just a cover—I’m really secluding to comprehend the Dao. After being ambushed and nearly killed by the three Chen Ancestors, then fighting the Chen ancestral clan and the Divine Ming Lord afterward, I’ve gained some profound insights.”

“I intend to seclude myself and fully understand them.”

Hearing this, Zhang Hao exhaled in relief and sat down on the chair made of five-thousand-year-old immortal wood.

Only someone of Bai Yuanxian’s stature could afford such extravagance—using five-thousand-year-old immortal wood as a chair, utterly ruthless in luxury:

“Master, you nearly gave me a heart attack with your dramatic pause—wait, what?! Master, where did this token come from?!”

Zhang Hao’s gaze casually flicked to the table—and his eyes widened.

Gao Xiang Hong had once shown Zhang Hao the token given by the departed One to the group members—the two tokens on the table were identical to that one.

“M-Master… you didn’t steal someone else’s token, did you?”

The token was given by the departed One; Zhang Hao didn’t believe his master could obtain one. Now that it appeared in his master’s cave—and his master had just passed the table—it was hard not to suspect he’d stolen Gao Xiang Hong’s token.

Thwack.

Bai Yuanxian smacked Zhang Hao’s head, eyebrows raised:

“What do you take me for? Do you think I’d steal tokens from Immortal Lord and the others? They’re our benefactors—they saved my life. Am I insane to do something so vile? I’m more suspicious it was you who stole it.”

He was even more baffled than Zhang Hao—if he hadn’t been rushing to enter seclusion, he wouldn’t have noticed the token at all.

Now seeing it, Bai Yuanxian was stunned, briefly wondering if his disciple had planted the token to frame him—but he didn’t truly suspect it, only joked aloud, just like Zhang Hao.

“It wasn’t you who stole it, and it definitely wasn’t me.”

“Disciple, did you touch the table?”

“No, Master. Did you?”

“No.”

Both: “….”

Neither had touched the table—so the token had been there when they returned?

Could Gao Xiang Hong and the others have sent them the token? But why just leave it like this? And it’s unlikely they’d give such a valuable gift—they owe us nothing.

“No good. I’ll go ask Ghost Old Man what’s going on.”

…

Another world.

Xuanming Multiverse.

Jiang Yongchang obtained a supreme treasure in an ancient ruin and was hunted relentlessly by greedy pursuers.

At this moment,

he fled into a remote mountain cave, and while checking for danger, he discovered the cave was the final resting place of an immortal cultivator.

Before the cultivator’s skeletal remains lay a plaque.

If Zhang Hao were here, he’d instantly recognize it—the same plaque the departed One had given to Gao Xiang Hong and the others.

“Anything left by an unnamed immortal cultivator must be valuable. I’ll keep it for now.”

Jiang Yongchang thought it over—he was already cursed by possessing treasure; one more mysterious artifact wouldn’t hurt.

…

Meanwhile.

Ten minutes later.

Tokyo, Arakawa Ward, apartment.

Kamikawa Mitsu pulled out a small notebook and checked off a name.

The page was densely filled with names.

Suddenly, one name flickered, then its ink faded and vanished.

Kamikawa Mitsu shook his head.

I gave you a chance—you failed to cherish it. Had you valued it, becoming a god or demon was guaranteed.

But it doesn’t matter—there are plenty more people. Kamikawa Mitsu didn’t care.

…