Chapter 424: This Man

Returning to Northwind City, they found a soulfire and used Du Luo's Supreme Authority Seal to enter the House of the Reborn.

Arriving at the virtual tower of books, Negril still asked in confusion: "The House of the Reborn has recording capabilities?"

Du Luo responded: "Of course it does. Without recording, where would I look if something went wrong? I can't stay in the consciousness space every day. But last time I came in, I noticed the recording function was off—probably His Majesty didn't need it, since he wouldn't fix anything even if it were recorded. Silver Coin, did you find how to turn it on?"

"Yes, I turned it on. Recorded some things," Silver Coin replied.

During this time, Silver Coin had been constantly inside the House of the Reborn, using the Supreme Authority Seal—every function was open to him, and he operated it more skillfully than Du Luo, its designer.

After some fiddling, the entire space darkened, and the image began rapidly rewinding.

Silver Coin adjusted repeatedly, speeding up or slowing down the rewind, until he stopped at a specific point. He tapped again, and the image played normally.

If you hadn't watched the adjustment, everyone might not have realized this was a recording—after all, this was the consciousness space.

Entering with Du Luo's Supreme Authority Seal, they could see others, but others couldn't see them—each time, it was like watching a recorded playback.

The image began: a shadow shot onto the central platform, cloaked entirely, with only two red dots visible where eyes should be.

Soon after, another shadow appeared at a different spot—a human figure, but his face was blurred, indistinct.

Du Luo explained: "In this consciousness space, you can adjust your appearance yourself—anyone with a mid-level or higher seal can do it."

Silver Coin rushed over and rubbed his hand across the blurred face several times—the face sharpened, revealing the square features of a middle-aged man, with a scar running along his cheek. Every time his face moved, the scar writhed like a worm, grotesque and vile.

No wonder he blurred his face—otherwise he'd scare children. Too bad, though: every adjustment made inside the House of the Reborn was visible to the Supreme Authority Seal. He probably never imagined his appearance would be exposed.

Silver Coin added: "I asked someone about his identity—he's Leo, Vice Chairman of the Necropolis Guild."

Du Luo asked: "Is he famous? The Necropolis Guild? Vice Chairman—then who's the Chairman?"

Negril, however, was curious about something else: "Who did you ask? You know a Vice Chairman of a guild?"

"Uh, the Necropolis Guild has no Chairman—they worship the Undying King. Only three Vice Chairmen exist. Leo is one of them. I asked Luticia."

"Oh." Negril suddenly understood. He'd wondered why Silver Coin contacted Luticia so quickly—Silver Coin had even said he'd let her "starve" a while before raising the price. How could he have reached out already? Turns out it was for this.

While they chatted, the two figures in the image began speaking. Leo bowed respectfully to the cloaked figure, then reported: "My Lord, I've investigated every member of the Guild. No one has used their permissions for secret activities."

The cloaked figure's voice spoke: "Are you certain?"

"My Lord, I am certain and guarantee it. All those with permissions are under my surveillance—they've had no opportunity to do anything," Leo said firmly.

The cloaked figure nodded: "Recently, many high-level secrets have leaked. Several high-value bounties have been claimed prematurely, yet no records exist here. If not your side, then there's a mole inside—someone of high rank."

Hearing this, Negril and Du Luo finally understood what they meant—and froze. They turned to Silver Coin: "Did you get exposed?"

Silver Coin scratched his head awkwardly: "Looks like it. I've claimed quite a few high-value bounties lately and traded a lot of high-grade intel. Didn't expect them to catch on so fast."

Negril asked in confusion: "You have the Supreme Authority Seal—how could they even notice?"

Silver Coin replied: "It's easy. They don't only trade in the consciousness space. Some trading partners know each other in reality. A quick private exchange reveals that one side posted a bounty the other never saw. Do it enough times, and the pattern becomes obvious."

"Some bounties are even set up as bait—to lure internal personnel into action, then trace them. This cloaked figure summoned Leo immediately. Clearly, they've encountered this before."

Negril suddenly got it. Bait? That's a brilliant idea—post high-value bounties to lure internal moles, then follow the trail and catch everyone connected.

From the cloaked figure's familiarity, this wasn't the first time.

The cloaked figure paused, then said: "Release a high-value piece of information. Let's lure out this mole."

Leo bowed, listening. He asked: "What kind of information? If your suspicion is correct and the mole is high-ranking, ordinary information won't interest him."

"Use the Sky-Piercing Tree's seed. The Empire is in chaos—the seed was stolen and its whereabouts unknown. We'll release several versions, with slight differences in details, each assigned a different level. See which detail leaks."

Leo stopped listening to the rest—he gasped: "The Sky-Piercing Tree? The seed that can grow to the Starburst Array?"

"Yes. Some already know. The mole probably knows too. Use this to see if we can draw him out."

"But… but such a treasure—we don't go look for it? If false rumors spread, won't that hinder recovering the seed?" Leo hesitated.

The cloaked figure dismissed it: "Everyone knows the Sky-Piercing Tree seed holds boundless vitality. But since records began, no one has ever made it sprout. Its history predates even the Starburst Array. The idea it can grow to the Array? Pure fantasy."

Upon hearing "Sky-Piercing Tree seed," Negril and the other two all felt a sudden jolt. They exchanged glances—each understood the others' thoughts.

Silver Coin quickly said: "I'll keep an eye out for seed information and try to recover it for His Lordship. But before that, don't tell him."

"Yes, yes! That's more efficient. For efficiency, hold off for now—then give him a surprise," Negril added hastily.

Having agreed on a plausible "excuse," everyone sighed in relief. Thank goodness Ang didn't come in—if he had, with his irrational obsession for the seed, he'd have immediately set off to find it.

…

Ang didn't follow them in. He returned to the planting sphere beside the dam. He had no interest in watching recordings—he'd already planned what to plant: one was fast-growing radishes. He'd harvest their leaves in bulk, let the tubers ripen fully, then feed them to silkworms.

From the first generation of silkworms, countless varieties had evolved. Besides the carefully selected ones that only ate World Tree leaves, many others fed on ordinary plants and still produced strong silk.

This silk might lack the magical properties of silk from worms that ate World Tree leaves, but its rapid growth and massive scale made it easier to industrialize.

Today, Meishen City no longer produced only magic silk. All kinds of real silk products were now being made. These low-end textiles actually drove more employment, creating more jobs and absorbing the entire Dark Side City.

Dark Side City had become Meishen City's affiliated industrial zone, with integrated breeding, planting, and textile production. Tens of thousands of Dark Side City residents now found work there, living in peace and prosperity.

Ordinary silkworms ate anything, but if they ate the wrong things, their silk output dropped. Only when feeding on high-sugar, high-fiber crops did their silk yield and quality peak.

These insights weren't from Ang's analysis—they were gathered by silkworm farmers and weavers.

Ripe sugar beets were perfect: high sugar, high fiber. As they matured, the tubers consumed sugar to grow leaves, eventually exhausting all sugar. But if harvested at the right stage, the sugar-to-fiber ratio was ideal.

Ang was an expert at this. He quickly adjusted his planting strategy, harvesting fast-growing sugar beets and their tubers continuously.

Lab and the maids found new jobs—raising silkworms, spinning thread, weaving cloth.

They wept with relief, grateful to have escaped death, and even got to eat fresh vegetables—though they turned green from eating too much…

Next, he should plant rubber trees—but the desert climate was clearly unsuitable. With his current resources, he couldn't alter the climate, so he set it aside for now.

But seedling cultivation was possible. The sphere's temperature and humidity were ideal for rubber tree germination. But once mature, they'd grow too tall—the sphere's space wouldn't suffice.

Of course, given enough time and space, he could breed several generations to dwarf the trees. But now, conditions didn't allow it.

Everyone busied themselves. A month later, Ang discovered his divine domain was full—stacked with sugar beet leaves.

"No way. How many sugar beets did you plant? You filled your divine domain?" Negril didn't believe it. He ordered Ang to open his domain so he could see.

As soon as the domain opened, several bundles of sugar beet leaves crashed down, smacking Negril in the face.

…

Silver Coin never imagined one man's vegetables could overwhelm an entire city like Northwind City. First, fresh vegetables were expensive there, so people rarely ate them. Second, Ang's yield was absurdly high.

Fast-growing sugar beet varieties, plus the Rapid Death Halo Stone, insect ash liquid, seedlings—each was a divine artifact. Ang stacked them all. Of course the yield was high.

"Can't we lower the price? The leaves are just a byproduct—we mainly want the tubers," Negril asked.

Silver Coin shook his head like a killing spirit: "No, no—unless you want to destroy Northwind City's vegetable industry, or unless His Lordship can guarantee a constant supply of fresh vegetables."

"The city's vegetable trade mainly deals in dried radishes and other shelf-stable goods. With cheap fresh vegetables, who'd buy theirs? They'd go bankrupt soon. Even if they did, I could find jobs for a few hundred people. But what if His Lordship stops growing vegetables later?"

"Once the vegetable industry collapses, rebuilding it is hard. So unless His Lordship can guarantee future supply, we can't dump produce on our own territory."

Negril's eyes lit up—he caught a key word: "Can't dump on our territory? So we can dump elsewhere?"

"Exactly. Go to cities with high vegetable consumption—they can absorb this volume without causing market disruption or instability. Rapid Flow Fortress lies beyond the mountains. Their demand is huge. My Lord, let's sell vegetables there." Silver Coin was enthusiastic.

Northwind City's commercial environment was too poor—Silver Coin had already swallowed key industries in under a month. He dared not touch the rest.

When one person controls a city's entire commerce, the water stops flowing—it slowly withers. Monopoly is profitable, but it creates no real value.

Only fluid commerce can rapidly concentrate toward the most profitable areas, creating multiplier effects and more efficient value growth.

These added values? That's true commercial value.

As the God of Merchants, Silver Coin long ago stopped caring about the pittance from monopolies.

What could Ang do? He could only nod helplessly. If he didn't sell the vegetables, his divine domain was full—he couldn't plant anything else.

What? Throw the vegetables away? Whoever suggested that would get his head smashed on the spot—how was that different from burning his fields?

"To Rapid Flow Fortress? My Lord, take me!" Du Luo immediately volunteered.

He needed to buy materials for bridge construction—iron, which Northwind City couldn't supply. Perfect: after selling vegetables, his divine domain could store the iron.

"Me too! Me too!" Jili Luokes raised their hands eagerly. Northwind was unbearably dull—any chance to travel far? Not missing it.

Crossing the valley, following it for over a hundred kilometers, they finally passed the mountains and reached Rapid Flow Fortress.

But before they entered, they saw many ragged, filthy refugees lying haphazardly along the mountain path—some barely breathing.

"What happened? A disaster?" Negril asked in surprise.

Seeing Ang's group, one woman struggled to her feet and whispered pleadingly: "Please… please, sell me something to eat. I have money. I have money."

She fumbled out a necklace, set with a green gemstone, its emerald light shimmering softly.

A seedling poked out from Ang's hat, waving its true leaves and sending out enthusiastic mental signals: Ya—ya—ya—

Unfortunately, the woman couldn't perceive this spiritual message. She only thought it strange—why was this man's head sprouting?

PS: Please give a few monthly votes for motivation—I'm feeling a bit drained.