Chapter 243: Favorable Time and Place

The stall owner choked, his complexion flashing between pale and ashen.

Su Rui also snapped to clarity, staring dumbfounded from the side.

The guide watched in silence, glancing at Cheng Shuili a few more times. To be honest, up to now he still couldn't see what was special about this thing.

Is it really a leftover?

If you really examine it closely, Cheng Shuili also doesn't know how this thing should be identified.

But she had seen a description of this long spear in Hu Ge's weapons shop; she could no longer recall the color and details of the spear shaft, and now the stall owner had handled it this way, so even if she remembered, she couldn't see it clearly.

Cheng Shuili recognized the item thanks to this single red tassel.

Its color was too distinctive; after entering this cursed place, Cheng Shuili had seen several long spears, but only its red tassel was this hue.

Besides, picking up leftovers is essentially gambling.

Even if this spear wasn't the one from Hu Ge's shop, she would still be willing to spend a few Game Coins to buy it.

Finally, the stall owner glared fiercely at Cheng Shuili, squeezing out through his teeth: "... 300 Game Coins, that's the lowest!"

Cheng Shuili gave a slight smile, placed the long spear on the stall, and added fifty: "100, take it or leave it."

The stall owner stared at the spear, hesitated for a few seconds, then muttered and opened the payment page, pushing the spear toward her: "Take it, take it! My bad!"

Cheng Shuili lifted the spear satisfied, and when she turned, winked at Su Rui.

Picking leftovers really still depends on keen eyes and a bit of... acting.

Just as the few were about to leave, a figure swathed entirely in black cloth barreled toward them; Cheng Shuili stepped aside, easily dodged, and turned around.

The group halted and all looked toward the person.

The newcomer was probably also a stall owner, showing only a pair of eyes; he stepped over the stall set on the ground, crouched half‑way beside it, and asked anxiously, "Are you doing business?"

"A little mouse just told me that the person who bought the old cripple's goods last time has come to you!"

"Never sell anything to her! That human is too shrewd; we can't make any profit from her."

The stall owner had been looking down at the Game Coins that had just arrived in his account; hearing his companion's words, his finger suddenly stiffened.

He slowly raised his head; the eyes peeking from under his headscarf blinked bewilderedly, then his pupils contracted to needle‑point size, and he forced out through his teeth a retort: "... what did you say?"

The black‑cloth companion slapped his thigh anxiously: "It's the one who bought the old cripple's totem last time! A very tall female human!"

He was speaking when he suddenly noticed the three people standing before the stall, and his voice shot up: "Eh? Eh?!!"

Cheng Shuili gave an innocent smile.

The black‑cloth companion seemed to have found his target, raised a finger, and shouted loudly: "Right... it matches! It's her! It's her!"

The shout was a bit noisy.

The stall owner suddenly sprang up, grabbing the companion's collar.

The veins on the back of his calloused hand bulged, his voice twisted with anger: "Why didn't you say earlier?!!"

The companion grew even more defiant, raised his hand and slapped him, "I kindly warned you, and you still get angry at me!"

The stall owner was knocked off balance by the slap, his headscarf tilted, revealing his previously hidden face and ears.

He was a fox‑type beastman, now covering his face, the fury in his eyes nearly bursting forth but held back, and he turned his ire toward Cheng Shuili.

"You!" he snarled, his finger trembling as it pointed at Cheng Shuili, "Return the spear! This deal is off!"

Cheng Shuili raised an eyebrow, leisurely slung the long spear onto her shoulder, the red tassel swaying lightly with her movement: "Both money and goods are settled; there's no reason to back out. The black‑market rules, Uncle, you can't possibly not understand them, can you?"

"Rules?" the stall owner sneered, abruptly pulling back the black cloth covering the stall, revealing several gleaming short knives beneath: "On my turf, I am the rule!"

His eyes fixed on Cheng Shuili, yet he had no intention of reaching for a weapon.

The rules here aren't only for players; we stall owners merely show an intent to attack, and the guards won't be lenient.

He brandished the weapons to intimidate.

But he forgot...

This human, after hearing his explanation of "blood rust", already understood what was going on!

How could anyone be frightened by such petty tricks?

Cheng Shuili watched the stall owner's bluster and couldn't help laughing. Not only was she unafraid, she stepped forward, braced the long spear with one hand, and leaned slightly toward his angry, twisted face.

"Uncle," she said cheerfully, with a hint of teasing, "If you truly dared to use those knives, you wouldn't be setting up a stall here."

She lightly tapped the sharpest short knife on the stall with her fingertip, the metal emitting a faint "ding": "You'd better be careful... somewhere you can't see, a barrel might be aimed at you."

The stall owner's hand visibly trembled.

The guide added in time: "Our black‑market stalls are still in high demand; if you don't want to work, there are plenty who will."

The stall owner's complexion grew increasingly grim.

Cheng Shuili noticed cold sweat beading at his temples, realizing the moment was ripe.

She suddenly withdrew her smile, her gaze snapping sharp.

"Listen," she whispered low enough for only the stall owner to hear, "I know the origin of this spear, and I know you don't understand its value at all."

Cheng Shuili tilted her head and continued, "100 Game Coins, you've already made a profit. If you're willing to tell me where this came from, I can give you another 50 Game Coins."

Cheng Shuili had originally thought he was a tiger‑head beastman, assuming this spear was given by Hu Ge to a relative before entering the little black room.

When that slap knocked away the covering black cloth, Cheng Shuili realized he was a fox beastman.

Since he's a fox... where did he get the long spear?

The stall owner let out a sharp, cold laugh; the fox's ears twitched violently beneath the torn headscarf. He abruptly slapped away Cheng Shuili's hand on the stall, the force so great that several short knives jumped up.

"50 Game Coins?" he snarled, his sharp teeth bared, spittle spraying, "Do you think I'm begging?"

The fellow snorted coldly again, clearly enraged and unwilling to part with those 50 Game Coins.

Cheng Shuili elongated her voice, "Temperatures aside, we can't go without earning Game Coins, right? As for the 50 Game Coins, how much could you possibly sell all these items on your stall for? Don't act rashly, okay?"

The stall owner was about to say something when the black‑cloth companion raised a hand, patted him, and whispered, "Old fox! The spear transaction is over; now there's another deal! Since it's a money‑making business, why not go through with it?"