Chapter 38: Stirring the Murky Waters (Cultivation)

The guiding attendant seemed also aware of that red‑haired guest's peculiarity, but he kept to his duties, and without looking aside, led Bai Mu Yun and Ying Duo to a door at the end of the passage.

After the attendant entered a complex code on the keypad by the door, the door slid inward.

The attendant stepped back a few paces, bowed slightly, and gave the two a brief explanation.

"Please come in, the auction will start promptly in thirty minutes; the private room is equipped with the latest environmental shielding system, so you may speak freely."

"The coffee table has a call bell; should you need any service, just let us know." The attendant bowed again, his humility extreme.

After the door closed silently, fully cutting off outside sight and sound, Bai Mu Yun slowly paced to the massive one‑way floor‑to‑ceiling glass wall.

He first scanned the auction hall below, which was gradually filling with seats, and noticed nothing unusual.

Bai Mu Yun did not turn around, his voice inquisitive.

"Did you see that red‑haired guy at the passage earlier?"

Yang Yixie had already begun searching what the private room contained; while rummaging, he didn't forget to type his reply.

"I've encountered him at the Heresy Tribunal."

"Is that so? Then you're rather lucky."

Bai Mu Yun let out a light hum, his tone revealing neither disgust nor fear.

He turned to the mini bar in a corner, but did not touch the pricey spirits, instead pouring himself a glass of clean pure water.

He gently swirled the cup, and the light reflected multicolored specks upon it.

"He's the Heresy Tribunal's top‑caged mad dog, or rather… a beast that can never be restrained."

He took a sip to lubricate his throat, as if savoring fine wine, yet he was merely stating an objective fact.

"The Tribunal's higher‑ups both love and hate him—love his destructive power, hate his uncontrollability."

Bai Mu Yun's gaze fell again to the floor, this time with clear schadenfreude, focusing on the mysterious curtain behind the auction podium.

"Even he was sent out; it seems our Undercurrent's Regiment Leader won't have a quiet night tonight."

He organized his thoughts while giving Ying Duo a brief briefing on the Undercurrent.

"The Undercurrent auction house is publicly owned by the Undercurrent Mercenary Corps—a armed group active in wilderness, borderlands, and the gaps between major powers, whose fame and infamy are equally renowned."

"They openly take on escort, relic‑exploration, Aberrant Species eradication and other missions, operating entirely within the Church's regulations."

Bai Mu Yun sneered, set down his cup, and lowered his voice a few notches.

"Yet this underground auction, which gathers the three teachings and nine streams and whose items' provenance is barely scrutinizable, is merely the tip of their massive gray empire's iceberg."

"They often covertly handle 'unsavory' tasks for certain bigwigs… operating a thriving business beneath the Church's core power in Tianmian City is all thanks to their Regiment Leader, as elusive as a dragon seen only by its head."

"Rumor has it that to this day, the Church has not secured any substantive criminal evidence against him."

He turned, his gaze solemnly landing on Ying Duo.

"Prepare for any eventuality; our Core objective remains that Undead, but if we cannot obtain it, it must not fall into anyone else's hands."

The implication was that if they couldn't take the person, they'd simply kill them.

Anyway, they already have the Dome in hand, so in that respect their progress far outpaces other groups.

Put bluntly, they're here to stir the waters.

——————————————————

In another private room of the Undercurrent auction house, the air was saturated with expensive cigar smoke, mingling with sweet, cloying fragrance, attempting to mask deeper desires.

Zhao Laoban, a middle‑aged man who rose by luck and attaching to the powerful, has secured a substantial fortune in Tianmian City's mid‑tier commercial circle.

He now feels triumphant, sunk deep into an overly soft crimson velvet sofa.

His corpulent body nearly fills the sofa, and the massive sapphire ring on his finger constantly flashes boastful glints under the crystal chandelier's light.

Sitting close to him is his sixteen‑year‑old daughter, Meng Kexin.

She resembles a meticulously packaged merchandise item; her naturally straight pink hair has been styled by a deft maid into the most fashionable intricate updo among aristocratic ladies.

Each strand lies obediently in place, dotted with tiny pearls and delicate diamond hair ornaments, further highlighting her snow‑white skin.

Meng Kexin lowers her gaze; her lashes are thick and curled, casting twin shadows on her almost translucent cheek.

Her hands are folded on her knees, her posture the result of years of strict training—elegant and dignified; even the sternest etiquette instructor would be forced to offer a compliment.

Yet she lacks the vitality and spirit typical of her age, resembling a delicate yet hollow porcelain doll.

Her dress is a lace gown from a renowned designer, made of expensive material and tailored to fit.

It perfectly outlines the girl's youthful curves, yet also serves as a splendid shackles, restraining her movement and breath.

This Zhao Laoban knows nothing of any "Old World Undead"; he lacks both the courage and the capital to wade into that murky water.

His purpose this trip is clear and pragmatic: the odd item listed in the auction catalog called "Dormant Bud of the Bone‑Eroding Ghost Orchid."

It is a bizarre alien plant that only grows deep within hazardous Aberrant Species nests, clinging solely to the skeletons of powerful Aberrant Species.

During dormancy its bud displays a bewitching semi‑transparent cyan, its texture like ice crystal—glittering, intoxicatingly beautiful, as if a natural artwork.

However, behind this exquisite beauty lies lethal danger.

Once activated, it will suddenly bloom, releasing a colorless, odorless, hard‑to‑detect neurotoxin.

The toxin does not kill instantly, but, like Bone‑Attached Maggots, silently corrodes the victim's mental core and free will.

Their thoughts gradually dull, emotions grow numb, eventually becoming unwitting puppets at the poisoner's disposal.

Because gathering it is extremely difficult and its use is sinister, within certain dark circles that seek control over others it is regarded as a rare "holy relic."

As for why even someone like him dares to eye this "fine thing"—

Naturally because its effect is extremely limited, especially against Special Ability Practitioners, who can simply use energy to isolate the toxin and become immune.

Even if they do become contaminated, the toxin's erosion takes time, and they can expel it gradually using energy.

Thus, while rare, it is only purchased by those with particular tastes.

"Ke Xin, my dear daughter, have you seen the glass lantern being displayed below? They're merely trinkets."

Zhao Laoban waved his short, plump hand, pointed at the auction podium, and then pulled his daughter to his side.

His voice was full of shrewd calculations, and his spittle droplets were about to splash onto Meng Kexin's face.

"Later, when that 'Bone‑Eating Orchid' makes its appearance, we'll spare no cost to seize it! This is an important generous gift for us to smooth relations with the Chen Family!"

He twisted his stout neck, carefully scrutinizing his daughter's delicate face, and began another round of his self‑righteous "teachings" and pressure.