Chapter 27: Black Market

“I’ll drink to you…”

Liu Wei lifted his soda cup again: “We bio-engineered humans live too hard—like weeds in a crack, fighting for every ray of sunlight and drop of rain… After today, I’m going all-in on the college entrance exam. From now on, we’re not friends—we’re rivals.”

“Alright. To rivals!”

Fang Xing raised his cup too, though he felt a flicker of surprise.

This kid Liu Wei actually wants to cut ties with him.

“Male friendship…”

He fell silent for a moment.

Liu Wei walked off quickly, as if this gathering had been nothing more than a final farewell to the past.

In the end, only Fang Xing remained, eating every last bit of the barbecue: “This was expensive—can’t waste it…”

He returned home as usual, but only after closing his door did his expression turn grim: “Liu Wei…”

He’d only suspected before, but from today’s behavior, this former best friend of the original owner was likely tied to some faction.

Yet the fact that he voluntarily severed ties suggests he’s not entirely without character.

As for the arena duel? Friendship has no place there—it’s a fight to the death.

“If I had the power, I should help… but right now, I can barely save myself…”

Fang Xing sighed and lay down to sleep.

…

The next day.

Fang Xing boarded a maglev train, carrying a single-shoulder backpack.

The scope of Chickenshadow Star is enormous!

Ninety-nine point nine nine percent of its surface has transportation and network coverage; only areas with chaotic magnetic fields, ruins, or wilderness remain as wounds on the planet’s civilization.

And the black market exists precisely in these places!

Beyond Maple City lies a ruined urban zone—originally struck by a cult of the evil god, leaving half the city crippled, with lingering dangers: pollution and radiation…

“The Federation could clean it up, but rebuilding a new city costs less than restoring this one—it’s not worth it. So they built a new Maple City, and the old district slowly decayed into a haven for scavengers and the undocumented, eventually giving rise to the black market…”

“If you think darkly, could the high-ups of Chickenshadow Star have deliberately preserved these ‘wounds of civilization’ to cultivate the black market?”

Fang Xing gripped his wristband, pondering silently.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the final stop. Please remain seated and hold on while disembarking in an orderly manner…”

Time passed without notice; the maglev train arrived at its terminus.

Fang Xing stepped off and found himself at the edge of Maple City.

He began walking, then increased his pace, dodging surveillance cameras and slipping into alleyways.

For this black market trip, he’d left all electronic devices at home.

As he moved through the darkness, the muscles and tendons of his face rippled—he altered his appearance, then donned a black mask.

When he emerged from the alley, Fang Xing had changed clothes entirely: now he wore a leather jacket, a baseball cap, and a pitch-black mask, slipping into the border between the new and old districts.

Whoosh!

The old district, abandoned and unmaintained, was littered with collapsed walls and broken structures.

A light breeze stirred up wisps of dust.

The roads were shattered; once a commercial street, now most signs were half-destroyed.

Crack!

Fang Xing stepped on a faded poster of a once-famous actress—the sound startled several hyenas lurking in the shadows.

Closer inspection revealed these hyenas differed from ordinary dogs: some had two heads, others four eyes, eight legs…

“Mutated creatures…”

Fang Xing recalled relevant information.

These were the deformed descendants of local fauna mutated by the combined effects of evil god pollution and radiation.

Though far from meeting the standard of lower servants, some might possess strange abilities.

The lead three-headed hyena growled softly, apparently deciding Fang Xing was too dangerous—or perhaps already full—and turned away, leading the others off.

Fang Xing passed through the commercial street and entered a residential district, surveying the half-collapsed buildings until he found a convenience store.

Amidst the ruins, a convenience store still operating looked utterly conspicuous.

[Ding!]

As he stepped through the store’s entrance, a green flash lit up, accompanied by a mechanical voice.

“Good. Clean. No tracking or communication devices on you.”

Behind the counter, a round-faced youth smiled.

He wore the store’s uniform, his hair half-brown, holding an old-fashioned comic book.

He slowly set the comic down: “Welcome to ‘Worry-Free Convenience,’ customer. What would you like to purchase?”

“First, a communication device.”

Fang Xing scanned the row of communicators on the counter and nodded.

In the black market, communicators were always unregistered or stolen accounts—safer for contact.

“No problem. How will you pay?”

The youth picked up a black wristwatch and smiled: “Ten thousand star credits. Cash or equivalent barter only.”

“Of course it’s robbery—no, robbery doesn’t even compare to black market prices.”

Fang Xing’s gaze casually drifted to a basic nanite protective suit on the shelf.

Its price tag read one hundred thousand!

Clearly, a standard nano-protection suit wasn’t worth that much—but one stripped of the manufacturer’s backdoors? That’s the price.

“Do you take gold?”

Fang Xing pulled a fist-sized piece of dog-head gold from his backpack: “Valuate it. Put any surplus into the new account…”

“Understood.”

The shopkeeper took the gold, ran a quick scan: “Low purity… net gold weight: 2340 grams. Gold price: 176 star credits per gram. Total: 411,840 star credits.”

“Twenty percent handling fee, minus ten thousand star credits. Remaining: 319,472 star credits—deposited into your communicator account!”

…

Fang Xing took the communicator, added the shopkeeper’s contact, and walked to the back of the store.

There, another ruined street stretched out.

Though desolate, occasional figures moved through the ruins, each radiating an unmistakable aura of danger.

“This feeling… reminds me of the lone cultivators in Qinglin Market…”

Fang Xing glanced around and felt a faint sense of familiarity.

This gold, of course, was bought from the cultivation market using spirit sand—easily obtained.

Conversely, turning large amounts of gold into spirit stones would be difficult, likely met with harsh price cuts.

“Weapons, potions, assassin guilds, entertainment venues…”

He wandered briefly, forced to admit: the shops here were surprisingly complete.

“Over thirty thousand star credits—I’m practically rich.”

With a spark of excitement, Fang Xing entered a firearms shop.

The owner was a burly man who looked dangerous, clad in an exoskeletal armor—easily fourth realm strength.

Seeing Fang Xing enter, he didn’t even glance up, focused solely on polishing a rifle barrel.

Fang Xing’s eyes landed on the Swift Dragon laser rifle he’d once coveted.

Beneath its silver-white frame, a small label read:

【‘Swift Dragon’ Laser Rifle, secondhand, 90% new, human-target capable, 2,000,000 star credits】

“Two million?”

Fang Xing’s pupils contracted. He glanced at other weapons—this laser rifle was among the cheapest in the store.

“Sorry to bother you…”

He stepped back several paces and walked out.

“Careless. The black market’s prices are truly brutal—thirty thousand star credits? Just pocket change…”

Still thinking this, he entered another shop.

Half an hour later.

Following the guidance from his purchased star credits, he entered a partially collapsed ruin.

Inside stood only a wooden table, behind which sat a woman wrapped head to face, her palms exposed.

Fang Xing glanced and noticed intricate blue tattoos covering her hands.

“The aura here feels off… dangerous.”

He muttered to himself, walked forward, and pulled out a chair.

Creak!

The ancient wooden chair groaned under his weight; the tattooed woman suddenly smiled: “Customer, you’ve come to this shop seeking solutions?”

“Yes. I need to launder money.”

Fang Xing said seriously.

He didn’t want to abandon the bio-engineered Fang Xing identity—not yet, not too drastically.

But he didn’t want to suppress his martial progress, so by the time sophomore year started, he’d need an explanation.

Without income or massive nutrient solution support, how could his realm advance so rapidly?

Therefore, he needed to launder black money into legal income, then purchase a batch of nutrient solutions through official channels!

“What scale?”

The tattooed woman’s eyes lit up.

“Several hundred thousand…”

“That little money…” The tattooed woman slumped back, looking bored: “Turn left at the door, go gamble a few rounds—I’ll take 30% as handling fee…”

“No gambling dens!”

Fang Xing was speechless—he was still a minor; that route was clearly impossible.

“That amount? Starting a company and fabricating cash flow would be overkill…” The tattooed woman smiled: “Clearly just a small client.”

She thought for a moment, then replied: “We acquired a lottery company—we can arrange for you to win a small prize. A few hundred thousand in winnings won’t raise eyebrows, as long as you pay your taxes properly—the Federation won’t care at all…”

“That… could work.”

Fang Xing rubbed his chin.

The Blue Star Federation banned minors from gambling, but imposed far looser restrictions on lotteries.

Besides, his money was so little it didn’t even qualify as a minnow—no one would bother investigating.

“Let’s do it.”

He exhaled deeply in his heart.

At least now, he could surge ahead during sophomore and junior year without seeming suspicious.

Even if it blew up later, as long as he got into university, got certified as a ‘Professional,’ and joined the privileged class, this small matter wouldn’t matter at all.

“Perfect! Handling fee: 50%!”

The tattooed woman grinned, revealing a mouth of jet-black teeth—suddenly, Fang Xing felt a sharp pain in his chest, as if his heart were bleeding: ‘So damn rip-off!’