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Now reading: Chapter 56: The nature of the city from The Last Founder, a Eastern novel by GentleD13.

Archive city.

Location: Gate.

Outside the city, a woman stood with the guards, her gentle voice like a magnet, smoothly guiding the conversation between her and the leader.

She was a woman of striking presence, her figure both graceful and undeniably feminine. Long, silky hair cascaded down her back in smooth waves, framing a delicate face with refined features and a quiet, contemplative expression. There was a natural elegance to her posture, every movent carrying a sense of composure that hinted at years of discipline and self-control.

Dressed in flowing traditional robes cinched at the waist, she possessed the air of a wandering swordswoman rather than a noble lady. The loose sleeves and layered garnts concealed much of her form, yet could not entirely hide the soft curves beneath. Resting calmly in her hands was a sheathed sword, held with the familiarity of a lifelong companion. She neither appeared threatening nor approachable; instead, she gave the impression of soone who walked her own path, serene and self-contained, carrying an unspoken strength beneath her tranquil exterior.

The aura around her gave one the impression that she was well educated and very experienced, which contradicts her rather young features. It made others instinctively feel more reassured in her presence.

After confirming she was here for the selection, she was guided to the city by a guard.

’Finally made it. The journey here wasn’t exactly easy; thankfully, I know a less troubleso path here, otherwise, I wouldn’t have made it here.’ She thought as she observed the busy streets of the city.

After waving the guard goodbye, she moved with purpose as though she had been here before. There was a sense of familiarity with the way she observed the place. ’I made it on ti, though, that’s what is important. Those guards couldn’t even provide the information I needed. All I could really inquire about was the location I am currently heading to.’

She sighed in frustration before picking up the pace while effortlessly remaining graceful. ’If I didn’t know their nature, I would probably be annoyed right now, but alas, I am burdened by knowledge.’

As she advanced, she observed. At first glance, the streets appeared no different from those of any prosperous city, much like her ho. Broad stone roads stretched between rows of elegant buildings fashioned from wood, jade, and polished stone. rchants advertised their wares, new practitioners wandered between shops, and the steady murmur of daily life filled the air.

Yet the longer one walked, the more difficult it beca to ignore the feeling that sothing was different.

The streets were too clean.

Not entirely spotless, but maintained with an effortless consistency that seed almost unnatural. Dust never lingered for long. Fallen leaves disappeared as soon as they were noticed. Water flowed through narrow channels carved into the sides of the roads, carrying away debris before it could accumulate. Small formations embedded beneath decorative stone panels silently perford countless mundane tasks, so commonplace that most residents no longer noticed them.

Traffic moved with unusual efficiency. Carriages, beast-drawn wagons, and cultivators moved as though following an invisible rule. There were no traffic jams, no shouting drivers, no bottlenecks around busy intersections. Arrays hidden beneath the roads subtly guided movent, illuminating faint symbols visible only when needed. Practitioners and residents alike often found themselves reaching their destinations before realizing how little ti they had spent navigating the massive city.

Even the lighting felt different.

As dusk settled, rows of crystal lanterns awakened one after another. Unlike ordinary normal lamps, they required no attendants; they were automatic. Their brightness adjusted naturally to the surrounding darkness, illuminating roads with a soft glow that neither strained the eyes nor disturbed the night’s tranquility. The energy consumption was so negligible that many questioned whether the lanterns were even active.

It was nuances like these that made visitors often struggle to explain why they disliked leaving.

The roads were still roads.

The buildings were still buildings.

The people were still people.

Yet after experiencing a city where every detail had been thoughtfully refined, the rest of the world felt just a little rough around the edges.

She covered a very long distance; at so point, she even ran as she was on a tight schedule to fulfill whatever brought her to this city. ’I wonder if I made the right decision coming here. The Archive Academy is very dangerous, especially for soone like . But I couldn’t bear to sit while things just play out as they should. I must figure out a way to... Ah, there he is. My ticket to a comfortable ti in this city.’

Across from her, an old man passed before her at a painfully slow pace.

His back was bent beneath the weight of age, one trembling hand wrapped around a polished cane while the other clutched a small leather satchel against his chest. His clothing was expensive without being ostentatious, the sort worn by a man who no longer needed to display his wealth because everyone already knew he possessed it. She recognized him imdiately. The target of her plan, who is also the owner of one of the city’s largest restaurants.

His footsteps were uneven.

Tap.Step.Tap.Step.

Each movent appeared to demand more effort than the last.

The woman watched him continue down the street.

A minute passed.... Then another.

The afternoon crowd gradually shifted around him like water flowing around a stone. rchants packed away their stalls. Custors disappeared into shops. The bustle of the district slowly diminished.

From her hiding spot, she observed the first man erge from a side street and fall in step behind the elder. This was not unusual in a bustling city. However, within thirty seconds, a second man appeared, then a third. Her eyes narrowed.

Though they never acknowledged each other, maintaining casual paces and appearing focused on different things, they moved as one. Their gazes swept windows, alleyways, rooftops, and pedestrians, searching, calculating, and awaiting an opportunity. The old man remained oblivious.

A young couple crossed the street ahead of him, then disappeared into a teahouse. An elderly vendor finished closing his stall and wheeled his cart around a corner. A courier hurried past carrying a stack of docunts.

The number of witnesses steadily decreased. The three n seem to have noticed it too. One drifted slightly closer, the second adjusted his pace, the third glanced behind him. Everything about the situation appeared ’ordinary’, it was clearly rehearsed.

Her gaze remained fixed on the old man, not her pursuers. His shoulders slumped, his breathing labored, and his grip on his cane increasingly unstable. Yet, sothing felt wrong. Not visibly or logically so, as every detail, every expression, movent, and pause, aligned perfectly.

The unnatural haste of rchants closing shop and pedestrians dispersing, though, spoke volus to long-ti city dwellers. Everything aligned too perfectly. ’If I didn’t know any better, I would be thoroughly deceived.’ A nearby pedestrian instinctively reached out to help, and the elder offered a weak, thankful smile.

A nearby pedestrian instinctively reached out to help, and the elder offered a weak, grateful smile. The brief, natural interaction concluded in seconds. The woman continued to watch, while the three n exchanged no signals.

All three slowed simultaneously, sending a chill down her spine as the street quieted. The gap between predator and prey closed. To an observer, it would appear to be a simple cri: an aging businessman, three opportunistic thieves, an unfortunate coincidence.

Yet, to her and any person observant enough, this was but an act. The scene, though real, felt rehearsed, like actors who had perford a play so often that every movent was instinct. The old man turned a corner into a quieter street, and the three n followed without hesitation, discussion, or doubt. Her eyes lingered on the empty street they left behind before she rose. It was ti to take action.

’Many newcors misunderstand that the city was designed to prepare them for the selection process. The Archive Academy recognizes that these individuals often lack resources, even when they are affordable within the city. To identify deserving cultivators and create candidate profiles, the Academy employs a rit-based system.

They orchestrate scenarios that reward fortunate individuals. However, cultivators, especially those new to their journey, often overlook mortals due to their inherent pride. This selection exam has already begun, a fact I’m aware of due to a slight advantage, though I believe others in the city haven’t realized it yet.’

She increased her pace toward their location, a carefully selected, secluded area. She finally got a good look at the three n currently surrounding the old man.

The first was broad-shouldered and thick-necked, his face weathered by years beneath the sun. A faint scar disappeared into the stubble along his jaw, and his eyes moved constantly beneath lowered brows. Though he walked with an easy gait, there was a coiled heaviness to his fra, like a man accustod to solving problems with his fists.

The second appeared younger and far less imposing. Lean and sharp-featured, he possessed the forgettable face of an ordinary clerk. His eyes, however, were exceptionally alert. They flickered through the surroundings, cataloging every detail without appearing to focus on anything in particular. He was the sort of man one would struggle to describe monts after seeing him, and he seed fully aware of that advantage.

The third lingered furthest behind. Taller than the others, he wore a faint smile that never reached his eyes. His posture was relaxed, almost lazy, but a predator’s patience lay hidden beneath it. While the first watched the old man, the second watched the surroundings, and the third watched for practitioners. He asured their reactions, noted who paid attention and who didn’t, silently calculating risks long before they materialized.

Individually, they appeared unremarkable, but now together, they brought a sense of unease to onlookers.

Seeing the first man about to raise his hand, she decided not to give him a chance to begin, "Hey, what..."

"What are you three doing?" A smooth, beautiful voice ca from above as a figure landed in their midst.

’Who?’ Confusion was written in her face.

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