The promised rewards from the Arcane Athenaeum could wait, a distant concern overshadowed by the immediate, tangible wealth now nestled within the dimensional folds of Yao's possession. The air in the farmhouse bathroom, still thick with the acrid scent of ozone and the faint, metallic tang of her own spilled blood, hummed with a new energy—the latent power of plundered treasures. She mentally cataloged her spoils into three distinct troves, each a testament to a different kind of victory, or vengeance.
The first, the inheritance of the Xie father and son, felt tainted, heavy with the weight of their petty, calculating malice. As Yao sifted through their belongings, her mind, sharp as a honed dagger, pieced together the sordid puzzle. The assassination attempt on "Oaks," the motive—to eliminate a pawn, to force Xie An's hand into promoting Xie Guangyu, only to then cripple that very prodigy and allow a collateral branch like Xie Jun to seize the prize. It was a nest of vipers, each twist revealing deeper treachery. Their resources reflected their nature: meticulously hoarded yet ultimately unremarkable, save for the unexpected bounty of five S1 Keys, a fortune foolishly carried into a deceptively low-tier dungeon, revealing a profound distrust of everyone, even kin. A sigh, part contempt, part pity, escaped her lips. Such a small-minded way to exist.
The second trove, looted from Lin Qing's team and the incapacitated Xie Guangyu, was a different beast altogether. Here was the wealth of predators, earned through cunning and brutality. The sheer volume was staggering: assets worth over 1.5 billion copper coins, sixteen pieces of gleaming Green-tier equipment, vials of potent mental restorative that glowed with a soft cerulean light, stacks of basic attribute gems that shimmered like captured starlight, and skill books whose pages whispered promises of power. But it was Lin Qing's personal stash that truly commanded attention. The man's wealth nearly matched his entire team's combined, a testament to a mind that expertly skimmed the cream from every venture. Yao's fingers itched with a specific desire—the memory of that devastating moon-blade technique, the Inch of Light Composite. She scoured the skill books, her heart sinking as she found only its inferior cousin, Flowing Gold. A flicker of disappointment was quickly extinguished by pragmatism. One could not always get everything. The auction houses and exclusive shops of the Athenaeum would have to suffice for future acquisitions.
The final, and most legitimate, hoard came from the Scorpid Brood-Prime and her lieutenants. This was the reward for overcoming the dungeon's true challenge. But as Yao's spiritual sense brushed against the items, a soft, persistent azure glow caught her eye from within the boss-loot compartment. It was not a gem, nor a piece of armor. It was an egg. An oval, pulsating sac of life, its shell semi-translucent and veined with threads of cobalt energy.
Mutated Scorpid Brood-Prime Egg (Evolving – Blue Tier).
The description unfolded in her mind, detailing its precarious state, its seven-day deadline for incubation. A laugh, sharp and disbelieving, bubbled up within her. She stood, pacing the small, tiled confines of the bathroom, a strange exhilaration thrumming in her veins. This changed everything. The S1s, the Green-tier sets, the mountains of copper—they were mere currency. This egg, coupled with the Genetic Evolution Matrix she had found, represented a leapfrog in power, a foundational advantage she had not anticipated achieving until she was twice her current level. The mother of the swarm had, in death, given her the greatest gifts.
Yet, the path to claiming this power was fraught with peril. The egg's binding requirements, though significantly reduced for an unhatched specimen, were still daunting: 10,000 Mental Power, and a combined 30,000 points in her primary attributes. Her current stats, a respectable 12,000 Mental Power and a combined primary attribute pool nearing the target, were close, yet the gulf in Mental Power felt like a chasm. A wave of frustration, hot and sudden, washed over her. Mental Power was the most elusive attribute, rarely boosted by equipment, its foundational gems as rare and expensive as S1s themselves. "It's always about money," she muttered to the silent, steaming air.
But she was no longer poor. Cool-headed calculation swiftly replaced irritation. She had the resources. Donning the complete 10-level Green-tier set scavenged from the bosses—armor that hummed with a new, insectoid vitality and promised the fleeting gift of winged flight—she felt her attributes surge. She then unleashed a torrent of basic gems, hammering the set's enhancement to +6. The remaining special gems—Eagle Eye, Healing, Invisibility, Speed—were socketed into her Gossamer Ringand the newly acquired necklace from Xie Guangyu, an item she now properly appraised.
Breath of the Unassuming (Necklace, Green-Tier).
+2000 Agility, +1000 Constitution.
Permanent Skill: Attribute Concealment (adjustable, up to 80% base value). 3x Daily Trigger: Evasion (+30% Movement Speed on success, +30% Damage Taken on failure).
A true assassin's treasure. No wonder he had survived Lin Qing's final assault. As she clasped it around her neck, a wry thought crossed her mind: she was steadily being pushed towards a rogue's path, a far cry from the high-damage archetype she once favored.
With her attributes now brushing against the required threshold, only the Mental Power deficit remained. Her gaze fell upon the 52 S1 Keys and the enigmatic Genetic Evolution Matrix. This was the gamble. She would force an evolution, using the Matrix to catalyze her gene sequence tree, hoping the resultant surge would push her over the edge.
The process was intense, a symphony of concentrated will and shattering crystals. Yao was no novice; she watched the fluctuating energies of her gene tree, waiting for the precise moment of peak resonance. With a series of precisely timed investments—first a cluster of five, then, seizing a fleeting, lightning-fast opportunity, a final, audacious plunge of fifteen S1s—she achieved the impossible. Two branches of her gene tree ignited in rapid succession, a feat that should have consumed ten times the resources.
Simultaneously, the Matrix's intricate gears clicked into their final position. A fragment of Arcane Will, a reward from the system, merged with her consciousness, clarifying her purpose and amplifying the evolution. Her gene tree erupted in a silent, internal fireworks display. The humble locust spirit that resided within underwent a transformation, swelling into a plump, matronly form. Yao's initial reaction was pure dismay. A bloated mother locust? This is what an Arcane Will begets?But as she communed with it, understanding dawned. Its primary talent was not combat, but Quintuple Digestion Efficiency. Her merchant's mind instantly saw the application: potions. While others were limited by cooldowns, she could chug them like water, turning a logistical weakness into an overwhelming advantage. "So, I'll just drink my way to victory," she mused, a genuine smile touching her lips.
Her stats now read:
Level: 12
Mental Power: 12,000
Strength: 19,100
Constitution: 24,300
Agility: 39,280
The binding was successful. She then fed the ravenous egg every Insect Marrow Crystal and a small fortune in medicinal herbs, watching the incubation meter climb to 100%. As the system announced the dungeon's conclusion—130 survivors out of 250 entrants—a profound relief settled over her. The egg was safely stored within her, its hatching a day away.
It was then that the wall before her dissolved.
Not crumbled, not shattered, but meltedaway in a silent cascade of molten stone. Framed in the newly created aperture, hovering on luminescent wings of solidified light, was Zhou Linlang. Her arrival was as abrupt as it was impossible. Behind her, a sleek government cutter settled onto the scarred earth of the farm.
Zhou's eyes, calm and impossibly perceptive, swept over Yao, then down to the incriminating scene: the scattered tissues, the frozen frame of the salacious video on the screen. With a lightning-fast motion, Yao slammed the device shut, her mind racing.
Zhou Linlang entered without a hint of apology, her presence cool and assessing. "The wall damage is significant. Unlucky, the locusts targeting this room specifically. Were you frightened?" Her voice was even, devoid of mockery.
" I was then," Yao replied, adopting the grating, defensive tone of Oaks. "I'm more frightened now."
A faint smile played on Zhou's lips. "But the blood composition in this room is rather high. Is it that time of the month for you?"
Yao's blood ran cold. Exposed?She let outrage mask her panic. "What do you mean? I didn't bring a woman in here! I cut my finger moving things!" She gestured to the genuine, if minor, wound on her hand.
Zhou's gaze flickered to a nearly invisible smear of blood on the corner of a metal table. "My concern was for your survival. The grain is under your name. Complications would be… inconvenient." She smoothly shifted the topic, stating her business: she wanted the food stores. Not to buy, but to commandeer for sale, to stabilize Jingyang's crisis-level food shortage.
Yao understood the unspoken threat. Xie An was coming. She had no real power to resist him. Zhou Linlang was offering a path, albeit one that involved becoming a puppet for public goodwill. They fenced with words, Yao attempting to negotiate a price or a favor, Zhou remaining impeccably polite yet immovable. In the end, with a show of reluctant resignation, Yao acquiesced. As Zhou Linlang turned to leave, she paused, a casual afterthought. "By the way, was there a very skilled girl here today?"
Yao's grip on the door handle tightened imperceptibly. "Who? There's one downstairs named Aqi. Anyone else?" Oakshad been asleep. He shouldn't know.
"Then it must be her. I'll see her when I have time." And with that, Zhou Linlang was gone, leaving Yao with a churning mix of triumph and profound unease. The woman was too sharp, her arrival too timely.
Onboard her cutter, Zhou Linlang reviewed a preliminary DNA report. The blood samples from the riverbed did not match the man known as Oaks. A faint frown creased her brow. She had observed the subtle signs in the field—the crushed grass, the almost-invisible gossamer strands. The techniques felt familiar. "Run another comparison," she instructed an aide, handing over a second sample. Leaning back, she tapped a finger thoughtfully on the armrest. If her hunch was correct, the dissolute farm owner was far more than he seemed, and the game in Jingyang had just become infinitely more interesting.