On the banks of the Autumn Ze River.
On a secluded little hill, Yinmeng was talking with Zaituo.
"How did you do at this black market?" Yinmeng asked.
"Not very well," Zaituo replied. "I only made a profit because it cost us nothing this time."
"That cultivator paid for everything anyway, so it doesn't matter." Zaituo was rather unconcerned.
"Then when should we hold the second 'black market'?" Yinmeng asked.
She needed Zaituo to help her with some ideas.
In fact, Zaituo had broader "connections" than she did, but he could never find a "partner" he worked well with.
Yet she, despite being poor at socializing, had that luck.
"Let's wait a while longer! We could let that cultivator pay for everything once, but unless he offers again, a second time is unlikely.
"Besides, in a situation like this, you should agree no more than once more. Otherwise, it'll become a habit, and you'll turn into his 'tool.'"
Zaituo instructed Yinmeng.
"Is that so?" Yinmeng was puzzled. In her view, there was nothing wrong with being that sort of "tool" and making pure profit.
"That's how it is," Zaituo said firmly.
Although innate primal chaos lifeforms were hostile to the Cultivator Faction, the two of them had barely had any contact with their "faction" before a powerful cultivator casually scooped them up and brought them here.
In fact, factions existed even among these imprisoned innate primal chaos lifeforms.
Those like the two of them mostly resented being reduced to prisoners, but they had spent practically their entire lives as prisoners and were more or less used to it.
There were also some who had been in contact with the "factions" themselves and thus harbored hatred toward "wild" innate primal chaos lifeforms.
Of course, there were other kinds as well, such