Treasure Alley never truly slept.
Even in the dead of night, when most of Flying Eagle City had gone quiet, faint lantern lights still flickered behind the heavy curtains of the shops lining both sides of the narrow street.
The air smelled of aged wood, metal shavings, and faint traces of spiritual herbs. Here, every storefront belonged to a wealthy merchant or a hidden expert. The city's management kept a strict watch over this place, where fake and real stuff often mix. After all, one wrong move and a single enraged cultivator could turn the entire alley into a bloodbath.
But some people simply didn't care about rules.
Two figures moved silently through the shadows between the buildings, their footsteps light as falling leaves.
"Black Shadow, you sure the information is solid this time?" a low voice asked. The speaker was a lean man dressed in dark gray robes, his face half-covered by a black cloth. Only his sharp, restless eyes were visible.
