Black Market, Consuming Whale Rubber

He walked a few steps along the base of the wall, confirmed no one was around, and pulled a wide black robe from his bundle to drape over himself.

Then, with a thought, Blue Silver Grass surged from his body, winding against his skin and wrapping around his limbs and torso layer by layer.

The pale green vines tightened and compressed, and his originally slender frame was suddenly bolstered by the vines, stretching his height until it looked to be nearly 1.8 meters.

His limbs were also padded by the vines until they looked a size thicker; covered by the wide black robe, it was impossible to tell that a seven-year-old child was underneath.

Wang Xian pulled at his hood, obscuring most of his face and leaving only his chin exposed.

The Black Market in Notting City was located on the east side of the old town, an area of abandoned warehouses that was deserted during the day but bustling once night fell.

There were no signs and no lights, only a narrow alley leading inside, with two burly men standing at the entrance, their eyes scanning every person who entered or exited with vigilance.

Wang Xian lowered his hood and walked between the two men; no one stopped him.

The alley was more spacious inside than it appeared from the outside, with storefronts converted from old warehouses lining both sides.

A dim oil lamp hung in front of every door, casting a murky light that made the expressions on people's faces look blurred and indistinct.

The ground was pitted and uneven, covered in stagnant, murky water from who knew when, giving off a damp, moldy stench.

There were all kinds of people here: some in cloaks, some wearing masks, others using their Martial Soul to hide their faces—not a single person showed their true appearance.

Wang Xian navigated the alley with practiced ease and stopped in front of one of the shops.

The shop was small, with a dusty cloth curtain hanging over the doorway that bore no markings at all.

He lifted the curtain and stepped inside to find a counter.

Sitting behind the counter was a dark-skinned, gaunt middle-aged man with triangular eyes, high cheekbones, and thin lips; when he smiled, he revealed a mouthful of yellow teeth, looking quite sinister.

Wang Xian lowered his voice and asked, "Boss, has the shipment I wanted arrived?"

The dark-skinned man looked up, recognized the black robe, and immediately broke into a smile. He reached under the counter, pulled out a wooden box, and placed it on the surface with both hands.

"It has, it has. Lord Soul Master, you've come at just the right time; the shipment only arrived this afternoon."

He opened the wooden box and pushed it toward Wang Xian.

The box was lined with black velvet, and in the center sat an object the size of a palm—pale yellow, translucent, and resembling a piece of amber polished by the passage of time.

The lamplight hit it, casting a warm, lustrous glow, and one could vaguely see something slowly flowing inside.

Whale Rubber, one thousand years old.

This substance was a special material produced in the brains of whale-type soul beasts; it was extremely rigid and masculine, a potent tonic.

In the current circle of soul masters, most people only knew of its aphrodisiac properties, and it was usually bought by nobles, driving the price up significantly.

But Wang Xian knew that the true value of this item went far beyond that; consuming it could strengthen one's physique, allowing a soul master to withstand a higher age limit when absorbing a Soul Ring.

He had fought in the Soul Fighting Arena for many days, and by placing bets on himself, he had finally saved enough money to have someone in the Black Market help him find this one-thousand-year-old piece of Whale Rubber.

Wang Xian calmly tossed out a bag of gold coins; it was heavy, landing on the counter with a dull thud.

The dark-skinned man hurriedly caught it and unzipped the bag to count, his fingers flicking through the coins with a crisp, clinking sound.

After counting, the smile on his face deepened, and he respectfully closed the wooden box and handed it over with both hands.

"Lord Soul Master, please take your goods. Come back to me if you need anything else next time."

Wang Xian took the wooden box, tucked it inside his black robe, and turned to leave the shop.

Logically speaking, for Wang Xian to pull out such a large bag of gold coins in the Black Market was extremely dangerous, and he likely would have been targeted by others.

However, as he walked past the others, they all looked at him with apprehension.

This was because some had previously coveted his wealth and tried to kill him for his goods.

But in the end, those people had met a very miserable fate.

Now, everyone in the Black Market who saw the person wearing this black robe dared not make any reckless moves.

Having left the Black Market safely, Wang Xian did not return to Notting Academy, but instead left Notting City and headed into the wilderness.

In any case, even if his night excursion were discovered, Wang Sheng and the others would cover for him.

Outside the city, Wang Xian found a secluded clearing, gathered some dry wood into a pile, and lit it with a flint. The flames licked at the firewood with a crackling sound, the orange-red light reflecting on his face and illuminating the surrounding few meters.

He opened the wooden box, took out the pale yellow Whale Rubber, skewered it with a thin branch, and held it over the fire to rotate slowly.

Before long, a strange fragrance wafted from the Whale Rubber.

The scent was thick, yet it didn't drift away; instead, it condensed into a ball, swirling only within a meter of the Whale Rubber and refusing to spread outward.

Wang Xian took a breath, feeling his mind clear up and his blood surging continuously.

As the temperature rose, the Whale Rubber gradually softened, and its originally hard, amber-like texture began to melt, turning into a soft, pale yellow gelatinous substance.

The surface of the object steamed slightly, glowing with an oily luster under the firelight.

Wang Xian pulled out the branch, scooped up the scalding gelatinous mass with both hands, gritted his teeth, and poured it directly into his mouth.

Instantly, a sensation of extreme heat exploded in his mouth, like swallowing a mouthful of molten lava; it burned from his tongue all the way down his throat and surged down his esophagus.

Wang Xian's entire face contorted, the veins on his forehead bulged, and a fine layer of sweat instantly beaded on his brow.

He did not spit it out, keeping his mouth tightly shut, enduring the burning sensation as he channeled the soul power within his body to envelop the gelatinous mass and begin refining it.

Soul power wrapped around layer by layer, slowly peeling away the medicinal potency and transforming it into streams of scalding heat that surged from his stomach toward his limbs and bones.

Wherever that heat flowed, his muscles, bones, and meridians felt as if they had been soaked in hot water, leaving them swollen, numb, and carrying a faint, stinging pain.

Wang Xian looked down at his arm; his skin had turned a dark yellow, as if it had been coated in some kind of substance.

He could feel his body undergoing a transformation: his muscles were tightening, his bones were hardening, his meridians were widening, and every inch of his skin was becoming tougher under the scouring of that heat.

Wang Xian gritted his teeth and continued to drive his soul power, refining the very last bit of medicinal potency until it was gone.

Time ticked away bit by bit, and the campfire gradually died down, leaving only a pile of dark red embers flickering in the darkness.

Wang Xian sat in place, motionless, as the dark yellow hue on the surface of his skin slowly faded, returning to its normal color, though one could faintly see something flowing beneath the surface.