[Shiu Kong on the other end of the phone had clearly caught an unusual scent of blood from your prolonged silence and the peculiar context. His keen instincts as an underground black-market broker kicked in instantly, prompting him to ask tentatively.]
["So how did you suddenly notice this? You don't usually pay attention to bottom-feeding scum with no money to be made off them."]
[You did not immediately answer Shiu Kong's question.]
[At that moment, your cold gaze behind your lenses slowly swept across the entire dark, damp basement like a tangible blade.]
[In a corner of this space, deliberately concealed beneath a weak barrier, you clearly saw a rusty iron table nearby, strewn haphazardly with bone axes, medical handsaws, and even a small industrial chainsaw, all covered in dark brown stains.]
[On the rough concrete floor directly beneath that iron table, you could vaguely make out large amounts of dried, blackened blood spatter. Even the cracks in the drainage channel still held scraps of unidentifiable flesh.]
[Your mind instantly connected this to what Shiu Kong had casually mentioned over the phone: those "corpses" carrying cursed residue could also be sold as experimental materials.]
[In an instant, the temperature in your eyes dropped to absolute zero, your gaze growing colder still.]
[Without any unnecessary words or movements, you silently and expertly activated your Phantom Parade in the deepest recesses of your pupils.]
[You instantly switched the cursed technique slot analyzed and replicated by Phantom Parade to Limitless.]
[The surrounding air seemed to freeze completely at that moment.]
[You slowly raised your left hand and, from several meters away, made an extremely casual, loose grasping gesture toward the man slumped on the floor, trembling as he clutched his severed fingers.]
["Vmmm-!"]
[At your mental command, Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue was instantly