The entrance to Spirit City's underground black market was hidden in the cellar of an inconspicuous general store.
It was the dark side of the light, a dumping ground for desire.
A breeding ground for crime.
And a paradise of opportunity.
As long as you had money—or strength—you could buy anything here.
Even contraband explicitly banned by Spirit Hall.
Han Yuchen paid a hefty entrance fee and received a codename tag.
The air was thick with the mingled stench of cheap tobacco, sweat, and blood.
Everyone around him wore black robes and masks, hurrying along.
The stalls were arranged in complete disorder.
The passersby were wrapped up tightly. No one spoke; only hushed bargaining could be heard.
With his hands in his pockets, Han Yuchen appeared to be wandering aimlessly.
But his gaze was sharp as lightning.
He was waiting.
Waiting for that red dot to overlap.
Finally.
He stopped before a shabby stall in a corner.
The stall owner was a one-eyed old man, wiping a broken sword with a filthy rag.
The stall was piled with all sorts of strange ores and bones.
Han Yuchen crouched down.
His fingers rummaged twice through a pile of scrap metal.
At last, he picked up a fist-sized piece of completely black metal.
It looked utterly unremarkable, its surface pitted and uneven, like a chunk of burnt coal.
But the instant Han Yuchen's fingers touched it.
A bone-piercing chill shot straight into his fingertips.
[Item: Abyssal Demonic Iron] [Quality: Top Grade] [Origin: An associated ore found three thousand meters beneath the underground Abyss, containing extremely powerful dark attributes and exceptional toughness.]
This was it!
Han Yuchen rejoiced inwardly, but his expression remained calm.
"Boss, how much for this chunk of black coal?"
He weighed the metal in his hand, his