Adam stepped into the martial market, eyes scanning automatically for one familiar figure.
Juli, the fox-eared sales girl who was usually easy to spot.
But his search bore no fruit.
There was no sign of a bushy tail or fluffy ear.
Did she take the day off?
It felt unlikely, but he brushed it aside.
He had business to handle.
He turned, and instantly found himself surrounded.
Every free sales attendant within sight snapped to attention the mont they recognized him.
Hands shot up.
Smiles brightened unnaturally.
Voices overlapped, all of them trying to get his attention.
"Sir Adam, over here!"
"I can assist you!"
"No, ! I’m free! I’m free!"
"Oh stars, he looked at , he actually looked at —"
anwhile, attendants who were still stuck helping custors wore devastated expressions, as if fate had robbed them of the greatest opportunity of their lives.
Adam kept his face neutral.
Eventually, he settled on a short human girl with bright eyes and an eager posture, the type of girl so degenerates would happily pay extra to satisfy their fetish.
Her enthusiasm nearly radiated.
Adam didn’t waste ti.
"My conduit was destroyed, so I need a replacent of the sa type."
She blinked once.
"Of course, What grade, sir?"
"Dirty bronze."
Her eye twitched, but she kept her smile intact.
Dirty bronze was the cheapest, bottom-of-the-barrel grade.
Most martial artists moved past it as soon as they could afford to breathe properly. For soone like Adam, now a rising star, to deliberately choose it was bizarre.
But Adam had his reasons.
It wasn’t because he was cheap.
No, the real reason was simple, natural, and unavoidable.
Adam couldn’t use any conduit above dirty bronze.
Not yet.
A conduit wasn’t just a weapon.
It was a bridge: a connection forged between a martial artist’s core being and a crafted object capable of holding the resonance that could bind to that being.
Every conduit carried this resonance factor, a subtle but powerful harmonic frequency that allowed the user’s essence, intent, and physical force to synchronize perfectly with it.
That synchronization was what separated conduits from ordinary tal.
It made every strike heavier, every movent sharper, and every technique more fluid and lethal.
But this resonance ca with rules, strict rules.
First, resonance ant only one conduit could be used at a ti.
The body couldn’t maintain harmony with two different resonant frequencies, no matter how skilled the martial artist was.
Second, the resonance factor was irreplaceable.
Once destroyed, it was gone forever.
Even if the weapon itself was repaired, reforged, polished, or rebuilt, without resonance it was nothing more than a normal blade.
A conduit could never be "fixed", only replaced.
And third, and most important for Adam:
A martial artist could not wield a conduit above the grade their rank allowed.
Their body, essence pathways, and soul simply couldn’t withstand the resonance pressure.
And Adam, who had yet to step into the Martial Apprentice rank, was completely restricted.
Dirty bronze was all he could use without backlash.
Sure, with his current power he could force a stronger conduit to cooperate, but in a real fight he’d be battling two enemies:
The monster in front of him, and the rebellious conduit in his hand.
Not worth it.
So the dirty bronze knife he had just purchased, was the most practical choice for now.
Once he secured the new conduit, Adam shifted to the next part of his shopping.
He turned to the short sales girl.
"I need resources to help with essence absorption."
Her eyes sparkled.
"Of course, Please wait a mont!"
She returned with several processed resources, nothing too special, nothing too rare.
Processed materials were always weaker than natural ones, but Adam wasn’t buying them for their full effect.
He only needed support, for when he eventually acquired the soul pearls.
After all, soul pearls nourished the soul first, and enhanced essence flow second.
He needed sothing to complent them, sothing that would give his absorption an added boost, not just a smoother experience.
It was better to buy them now, while he had money.
Life was too unpredictable to be a miser.
After selecting the absorption boosters, Adam grabbed a few rations as well, just enough to top off his stock.
Everything totaled $73,546.
He paid without hesitation.
It was a lot, but resources were always the pricier part of cultivation.
This wasn’t indulgence; this was an investnt.
And a good one.
He stored everything neatly into his storage ring.
Then he turned and walked out of the martial market, and the mont his foot crossed the threshold, he activated Rapid.
To the onlookers, one second he was there and the next second he had vanished like a short-lived illusion.
Many martial artists blinked in disbelief.
So rubbed their eyes.
Others cursed under their breath.
Most hadn’t even seen him move.
Adam slowed as he approached the apartnt complex, his steps steady, until he turned the corner toward his unit and froze.
His door was surrounded.
A cluster of familiar faces crowded the narrow hallway, whispering anxiously as they hovered around his entrance.
For a mont Adam wondered if sothing had happened, but then one of the older won spotted him.
"He’s back!"
The entire group turned in unison.
Dozens of eyes locked onto him.
Eyes filled not just with admiration, but sothing deeper.
Sothing close to reverence.
There was a look of respect non–martial artists often had when facing soone who walked a different path, soone who could do things they could only dream about.
They had given Adam that respect the mont he awakened a talent and had the prospects of becoming a martial artist.
To them, all martial artists were the sa regardless of talent, but after his achievents in the rift, that respect had ignited into full-blown devotion.
Adam raised an eyebrow.
What now?
He walked forward, and instantly the hallway parted for him, neighbors stepping aside as if a noble had arrived to claim his throne.
Adam slipped between them until he stood in front of his own door, and finally saw what they were gathered around.
Three n.
Two of them were huge, thick-necked and broad-shouldered.
The third was smaller but dressed in a sharp, obviously expensive suit.
All three were kneeling, or rather, prostrating fully, with heads pressed against the floorboards, oblivious to anyone around them.
"..."
At that mont the realization hit him like a falling mountain.
I knew I was forgetting sothing.
The n kneeling in front of his door weren’t worshippers.
They weren’t beggars.
They weren’t random intruders.
They were from the loan group he owed money to.
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