The scent of dried herbs still clung faintly to Liam’s clothes as he stepped out of the apothecary.
The wooden door closed behind him with a muted creak, muffling the cheerful voice of the shop attendant who had just bowed him out with more respect than he’d shown when Liam entered.
Inside, the man had been surprised — almost shocked — by Liam’s casual wealth. A single custor walking in and asking for "a bit of everything" was unheard of.
Even rich young masters from cultivation families ca with attendants, argued prices, and sniffed at quality before buying a handful of pills or rare roots.
Liam, however, had swept through the aisles with calmness, lifting jars of pills and bundles of herbs without hesitation, stacking them like soone picking groceries rather than treasures.
The sales attendant had nearly lost his composure when the total tallied to six hundred and forty-three gold coins.
Liam had simply withdrawn the exact sum from his storage, set it down without comnt, and tucked the purchases away into his space. There was no bargaining, flinching or need to count twice.
Now, as he walked into the predawn air, Liam’s expression was composed, but his mind was filled with satisfaction. These herbs and pills were not for imdiate use.
They were samples to be usef to collect data. Lucy would analyze them in the molecular analyzer, breaking down their structures to the last atom, comparing them to Earth’s plants and compounds. He wanted to know: would the assembler be able to replicate them?
If yes, then the cultivation world had just handed him a limitless edge.
If not, then perhaps Qi-infused flora truly lay outside the reach of molecular science. Either way, the results would be invaluable.
He adjusted his pace, hands clasped lightly behind his back, letting himself blend into the flow of people along the main street, as he continued walking deeper into the city.
Liam was just beginning to consider which district to explore next when a voice barked sharply.
"You there. Stop."
His brows furrowed.
A squad of city guards blocked the road ahead. Their armor glead faintly under the lantern light, steel plates lacquered black with the insignia of Blackstone — a roaring lion clutching a spear.
They were ten in number, halberds leveled casually yet nacingly across the street to halt the flow of pedestrians.
Their leader, a man with a hooked nose and narrow eyes, stepped forward. His bearing was stiff, his voice loud and commanding.
"Present your identification token."
Liam stopped, gaze flicking once across the squad, as his expression remained calm.
"Identification token?" He asked.
"Yes," the leader sneered. "All recognized citizens, sect disciples, or registered rchants carry them. Blackstone City does not tolerate vagrants or suspicious characters wandering its streets. Present your token, or leave."
Identification token? Liam frowned slightly. He wondered why they were asking for sothing like that, but he guess it was most probably related to the commotion he caused last night.
As for the identification token, he rembered Zhou paying for that along with his entry fee. He imdiately took it out of the Dinsional Space and presented it to the guard.
The captain sneered and scoffed when he saw the wooden piece in Liam’s hand.
"That scrap? That’s nothing more than a visitor’s toll. It proves you paid to enter, nothing else. I asked for a true identification seal. Sect, clan, or rchant registry. Do you have one?"
Liam’s frown deepened. So Zhou’s token was just an entry pass, not the kind of proof they were demanding. He had nothing more to show them. And from the sneer on the captain’s face, it was clear that even if he had, they would find another excuse.
He understood now. This wasn’t about tokens. This was probably related to that Xuan family young master. He rembered that the Xuan family is close to the City Lord’s.
Politeness cost nothing, he reminded himself. Better to test their intentions first.
Liam was aware that even if this was orchestrated by the Xuan family young master, he still have to play an act at being civil with the guards, unless they give him a reason not to
He inclined his head and spoke evenly, "I have no token. I do not belong to any sect. I am a wandering rchant, traveling between cities, seeking opportunities to trade. Nothing more."
Murmurs rippled among the crowd that had begun to gather, and the guards exchanged glances.
The leader’s lips curved into a mocking smile. "Suspicious indeed. A so-called ’rchant’ with no goods, no stall, no registry? Lies. For all we know, you’re a demonic cultivator in disguise." His voice rose deliberately, loud enough for the crowd to hear. "Blackstone City will not harbor such filth. Since you cannot prove your identity, you will leave imdiately. We will escort you to the gates."
Liam’s eyes narrowed. Escort ? His instincts prickled sharply, warning him. If he stepped outside the city walls under their watch, ambush was inevitable.
His patience thinned but he held himself back as he chuckled internally, So this is how they want to play it.
It doesn’t need to be spelt out for him, for him to know that the two people who he had spared and had warned never to cross paths with him again, were now seeking retaliation.
It made him greatly regret sparing their lives. He had wanted to take care of them thoroughly but he found it extrely difficult to do. Killing soone was sothing he has never done and has no idea if he will ever be able to do it. It was also the sa reason he had spared the Ironblood Bear.
He lifted his gaze back to the leader, his tone polite and sharp, "I won’t be going anywhere."
The leader’s smile widened into a sinister one, as if he had been waiting for this refusal all along.
"Very well," the man said mockingly, his voice ringing out. "You cannot bla for what cos next." He spun to his n, barking loud enough for half the avenue to hear:
"By order of the City Lord, this man is under arrest! He refuses lawful inspection, fails to provide sect affiliation, and dares defy Blackstone’s guard. For all we know, he is a demonic cultivator hiding among us. Bind him!"
Gasps erupted from the bystanders. Demonic cultivator; those in cahoots with the demon race. The accusation alone was enough to blacken one’s reputation permanently. To mortals, it was a death sentence. And to cultivators, it was justification to kill without trial.
Liam’s expression darkened, though his voice stayed calm. "If the City Lord wishes to see , he can co himself. I do not answer to lapdogs. If you press this further, don’t bla for what follows."
The leader’s eyes glead with cruel delight. He had his opening he had wanted from the very beginning.
"What insolence!" he bellowed, his tone dripping with fake outrage. "You dare slander our noble City Lord — the very pillar of Blackstone — by calling his loyal guards lapdogs? Treasonous words!"
He turned dramatically to the crowd, stabbing a finger toward Liam. "By the authority of the City Lord, I declare this man guilty of sedition! He is an enemy of the Empire itself!"
The crowd erupted into whispers, panic and fascination mingling. So faces turned pale; others lit with greed at the thought of rewards for helping apprehend a ’criminal’, especially after the bust of the supre treasure hunt.
The guards moved as one, halberds leveled, boots striking the cobblestones as they advanced.
Liam sighed inwardly, shaking his head slightly. So this is what it cos to? Manufactured charges public humiliation and force disguised as law.
His instincts sharpened to a razor edge. He could feel both paths laid bare: outside the city waited an ambush that reeked of blood. Inside the city, false charges and chains of ’law’ awaited. There was danger no matter where he stood.
But he was not about to bow. Not even to the City Lord himself.
He let his hands fall loosely at his sides, posture deceptively relaxed. His gaze swept over the guards, then over the gathered crowd, before settling coldly on the leader.
"Co, then," Liam murmured, his soft voice audible to everyone around. "Let’s see if you can bind ."
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