The Fine Eyeball of Seven Mutations

The abrupt question stunned the Cavefolk. He had only been thinking of swindling a bit of money, never expecting this question to come up. Seeing the young man's shrewd, ghostly expression, he was clearly an expert.

Mutated Cavefolk eyeballs were a major source of income for the tribe. Many Cavefolk tribes tried every means to cultivate Cavefolk capable of mutating, since Cavefolk did not rely on their eyes anyway.

Naturally, they sold their eyes in exchange for resources, but the truth was quite the opposite: Cavefolk valued mutated eyes more than anyone.

The Blinding curse carried by mutated eyes was one of the few extraordinary powers possessed by Cavefolk. Through constant experimentation, they could make their eyes mutate to varying degrees, and could even control those mutations.

They were among the tribe's few witches.

As for those sold outside, most were eyes whose mutations had failed. The good stuff experts spoke of was clearly those eyes that had undergone multiple mutations.

Five silver coins meant at least five mutations. Eyeballs of that grade were not common within the tribe.

"Alive? Who are you?" The Cavefolk sized Li Ziran up, trying to determine the young man's identity.

"Do you have one?" Li Ziran asked bluntly. He would not waste time, nor did he need to explain who he was.

"I do, but..." The Cavefolk hesitated.

Only then did Li Ziran climb out of the bath pool. He smiled faintly at the other man. "Interested in having a drink? This isn't a place to talk."

Without waiting for his agreement, he went straight up the stairs to the next floor, got two glasses of rum from the short-tailed girl, and sat down in a corner.

Sure enough, the Cavefolk followed him up shortly afterward. Li Ziran was delighted. It looked like this