For a moment, she looked like she might try again. Then—
She clicked her tongue.
"Not worth the effort right now."
With a flick of her paw, spiritual light wrapped around the tool, pulling it back into her storage pouch. The glow vanished. Silence returned.
The fox stretched her front legs, rolling her shoulders slightly as tension left her body.
Then—she turned. Her gaze landed on the lizard. More specifically—on what he carried.
Her eyes dropped to the storage pouches hanging around his neck, then to the sword clenched in his jaws.
Her ears perked up. A slow grin spread across her muzzle.
"Well, well…"
She leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming with interest.
"Looks like someone had a productive outing."
Her tail flicked behind her. She tilted her head, studying him more closely now.
"Two pouches… and an earth-grade blade."
Her gaze sharpened.
"…You ran into cultivators."
Not a question. A statement.
Her eyes met his glowing golden ones.
"And judging by the fact that you're the one holding their stuff…"
Her grin widened.
"They didn't make it."
A soft chuckle escaped her.
"Not bad, Little White."
She sat up straighter, clearly more intrigued. Her eyes lingered on the sword again.
"Let me guess…" Her tone turned slightly teasing.
"They tried to hunt you first?"
She smirked. "Didn't go well for them, huh? Or did you just kill them on sight?"
The fox didn't wait for an answer. She simply stood and walked over—light, unhurried, as if everything the lizard carried already belonged to her.
She reached out with a paw and took the sword straight from his jaws. The blade gleamed faintly under the dim cave light as she lifted it, turning it slightly, inspecting the edge, the balance, the flow of energy within it.
Her ears perked.
"…Not bad at all." She muttered, eyes narrowing as her spiritual sense brushed over it.
"Mid-tier Earth grade."
A small, satisfied grin appeared. "Whoever owned this wasn't completely useless."
Without hesitation, she flipped the blade once and tucked it away into her storage pouch. Gone. Just like that. No ceremony. No attachment. Only value.
Then—she turned her attention to the storage pouches hanging around the lizard's neck.
Her eyes lit up slightly.
"Now this…" Her tail flicked with interest. "…is the real part."
She stepped closer, lowering her head as she began inspecting them. One paw reached out, lightly tapping a pouch.
"Let's see what our unlucky friends left behind."
Her tone carried a hint of anticipation now—careful, deliberate.
She began to open the first pouch. Spiritual energy brushed against the seal—testing, probing, ready to peel it open and see exactly what the hunt had brought back.
The fox didn't rush.
Her earlier excitement had settled into something sharper—focused, controlled.
She lowered herself onto the cave floor again, tail curling neatly around her side, and pulled one of the storage pouches closer.
Her turquoise eyes narrowed.
"…Same problem," she muttered. "Just smaller."
Unlike the spiritual tool, the imprint on a storage pouch wasn't overwhelming—but it was still there. A faint thread of will left behind by its original owner. Stubborn. Clinging.
She closed her eyes. This time, her approach was different. More refined.
A thin strand of her spiritual sense slipped into the pouch—not forceful, but precise. It didn't clash immediately. Instead, it circled the imprint slowly, observing it. Mapping it. Understanding it.
"…Got you," she whispered softly.
Then—she pressed. Not with brute force, but like unraveling a knot. Carefully, she pulled at the edges of the imprint, loosening its hold bit by bit.
The pouch trembled slightly. A faint resistance pushed back. But this wasn't a Golden Core imprint. This—she could handle.
Her ears twitched as she increased the pressure, slow and steady. The imprint began to weaken. Threads snapped. Connections broke.
Until—
**Snap.**
The resistance vanished.
The fox's eyes opened instantly, a grin spreading across her muzzle.
"…There we go."
The pouch fell silent in her paw. Completely unbound.
Without hesitation, her spiritual sense slipped inside—and her eyes lit up immediately.
"Oh… now this is nice."
Her tail flicked with satisfaction as she began sifting through its contents: resources, materials, maybe techniques. Everything the unlucky cultivator had carried—now hers.
She didn't even look at the lizard as she spoke.
"Give me a minute. I'm not done yet."
Her focus deepened. The imprint was gone. Everything inside lay bare before her.
Her eyes gleamed.
"Mm… not bad at all."
One item after another hovered briefly in the air, suspended by her spiritual sense: a small pile of spirit stones, a few vials of pills, bundles of dried herbs tied neatly together.
"Foundation Establishment resources… decent quality too," she muttered, flicking her paw. The items hovered a second longer before she neatly sorted and pushed them aside.
Then—her expression shifted. Something else caught her attention. A jade slip.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Oh?"
She pulled it closer, pressing it lightly against her forehead.
For a moment—nothing.
Then her eyes flickered as information flowed into her mind. A technique.
Her grin widened slowly. "…Movement technique."
Her tail flicked in clear satisfaction.
"Looks like he wasn't completely useless after all."
She pulled the jade slip away, turning it once in her paw before tossing it lightly into her storage pouch. Kept. Without hesitation.
She moved on. More items: a few talismans—mid-grade, mostly defensive, a worn but still functional defensive charm. Finally—nothing else of real interest.
The fox exhaled softly.
"Alright."
With a flick of her paw, everything was sorted and stored.