The following days with the debris clearance crew settled into a grueling yet increasingly familiar pattern.
Lâm Minh worked with a quiet diligence that impressed Hạnh and earned him a reluctant acceptance from the older volunteers.
He was still "the kid," but he was the kid who had single-handedly dispatched two enraged scav-rats and saved two lives.
That afforded him a certain degree of space and respect.
He utilized his time astutely.
During the back-breaking labor, his eyes were constantly scanning, his senses sharpened by his slowly advancing Qi Refining cultivation.
He managed to find a few more small pockets of soil laced with raw condensate, carefully collecting them in salvaged containers, adding to his meager hoard.
It was slow, painstaking work, yielding only trace amounts.
Refining it via the System remained out of reach without System Points.
In the evenings, he dedicated himself to cultivation, consuming one Spirit Stone per night.
His progress was steady, if gradual.
After his ninth stone was consumed:
[Cultivation Progress: Qi Refining Stage – Initial Phase (90% progress towards Minor Completion).]
[Dantian Capacity moderately expanded. Qi purity: Low-Medium.]
[Host's physical attributes noticeably enhanced. Strength, speed, and resilience are approximately 1.5 times that of an untrained mundane.]
He possessed one precious Spirit Stone left from his Novice Package, which he was carefully preserving.
The thought of being without any refined Spirit Essence for cultivation was a chilling prospect.
He needed to achieve "Minor Completion" of the Qi Refining stage; the System hinted it was a significant threshold.
His burgeoning, albeit still rudimentary, strength and senses were becoming apparent, at least to himself.
He moved with greater agility, his stamina had improved, and he could lift heavier loads than before.
He was careful to downplay his improvements, not wanting to attract undue attention.
A slight increase in ability could be attributed to hard labor; a sudden leap would undoubtedly raise questions.
One evening, Hạnh approached him as the crew was packing up.
"Minh," she said, her voice lowered. "I've got something that might interest you. Not official crew business. Private. It pays a hell of a lot better."
Lâm Minh met her gaze. "I'm listening."
"There's a merchant I know. He deals in… specialized goods. Sometimes needs 'escort services' for valuable cargo moving through the sketchier parts of the city. Tonight, he's transporting something from the old warehouse district near Zone 9 towards the Rust Market. He needs a couple of extra pairs of eyes and hands, people who can handle trouble if it arises."
Zone 9 was even more dilapidated and perilous than Zone 7-Delta. And the Rust Market…
"What kind of trouble are we anticipating?" Lâm Minh asked, his tone neutral.
"The usual," Hạnh shrugged.
"Desperate scavengers, opportunistic gangs. Possibly worse. The cargo is… sensitive. That's why the pay is good. Five hundred credits. Each. For a few hours' work."
Five hundred credits.
Ten times his daily earnings from the clearance crew.
Enough to purchase a decent supply of food, or perhaps trade for a couple of Low-Grade Spirit Stones on the black market if he was fortunate and discreet.
The risk was undeniably high. But the reward…
"And if things go awry?"
Hạnh's scarred face was grim.
"Then we earn our keep. The merchant, a man named Old Feng, isn't sentimental. He expects results, not excuses. But he also rewards loyalty and competence." She paused, her one good eye studying him intently.
"I wouldn't be offering this if I didn't think you could handle it, kid. After what I witnessed with those rats… you've got a cooler head than most men twice your age."
This was the opportunity he had been awaiting.
A chance to earn significant credits, gain more experience in the city's underbelly, and perhaps forge connections that could lead to a more stable supply of Spirit Stones.
"I'm in," Lâm Minh stated without hesitation.
Hạnh nodded, a faint smile gracing her lips.
"Good. Meet me at the usual rendezvous, the burned-out noodle stall at the edge of Zone 8, 22:00 (10:00 PM) hours. Dress in dark clothing. Travel light, but bring that crowbar of yours. And kid," she added, her voice dropping even lower, "tonight, what you see, what you hear… it stays with you. Understood?"
"Understood," Lâm Minh affirmed. Secrecy was a currency with which he was well acquainted.
That night, after informing his mother he would be working a late shift (a partial truth), Lâm Minh made his preparations.
He donned the darkest, most durable clothes he owned.
He checked his crowbar, its weight familiar and reassuring in his grip.
He then made a critical decision, mentally accessing his last Spirit Stone.
If I'm heading into a high-risk situation, I need every possible advantage.
He sat in his room, the door wedged shut, and consumed his final Novice Package Spirit Stone.
The familiar warmth flooded his Dantian, feeling stronger this time, more vibrant.
[Cultivation Progress: Qi Refining Stage – Minor Completion (100%).]
[Dantian Capacity significantly expanded. Qi purity: Medium.]
[Host's physical attributes substantially enhanced. Strength, speed, and resilience are approximately 2 times that of an untrained mundane.]
[New Ability Unlocked: Qi Sense (Basic) – Allows for the detection of concentrated Qi signatures and fluctuations within a short range.]
[New Ability Unlocked: Qi Infusion (Minor) – Allows for the temporary infusion of Qi into mundane objects to enhance their durability and impact, or into limbs to enhance physical strikes.]
[Spiritual Root: Heaven Tier (Sealed – Stage 1/9 Unsealed). Progress to unseal Stage 2: 5%. Note: Significant breakthroughs or absorption of extremely pure/potent Spirit Essence required to accelerate unsealing.]
[System Mandate Update: Survive and Thrive. Seek resources to accelerate cultivation. Identify and cultivate potential allies.]
Minor Completion! And with it, two new abilities.
Qi Sense would be invaluable for detecting threats, perhaps even hidden Spirit Stones.
Qi Infusion meant his crowbar, already a formidable weapon in his hands, could become even deadlier.
His strength and speed had effectively doubled from his baseline sixteen-year-old self – a significant enhancement.
He was still leagues away from challenging even the weakest Madakaros Qi Refining warrior, who possessed inherent physiological advantages and more refined techniques, but against ordinary human threats, he was now considerably more dangerous.
The unsealing of his Heaven Tier root was still progressing slowly, but even 5% was an improvement.
The System's updated mandate was also noteworthy: "Identify and cultivate potential allies."
This aligned perfectly with his long-term objectives.
He practiced Qi Infusion, channeling a sliver of his newly potent Qi into the crowbar.
It shimmered faintly in the dim light, feeling subtly different in his grip – harder, more resonant.
He attempted a practice swing; it sliced through the air with a more vicious hum.
Excellent.
At 21:45 (9:45 PM) hours, Lâm Minh slipped out of his apartment block, a shadow merging with other shadows in the dimly lit streets.
He moved with a newfound confidence and agility, his Qi Sense subtly probing his surroundings.
He could feel the faint life-auras of people in nearby buildings, the hum of active machinery, even the skittering energies of rats in the gutters.
It was an entirely new layer of perception.
He reached the burned-out noodle stall.
Hạnh was already present, along with two other men Lâm Minh didn't recognize.
They were both hard-looking individuals, clad in practical, dark clothing, and carried an assortment of crude melee weapons.
They eyed Lâm Minh with unconcealed skepticism.
"This is the kid?" one of them, a burly man with a shaved head and a scar across his nose, grunted at Hạnh. "He looks like he's barely out of diapers."
"He can handle himself, Cường," Hạnh retorted sharply. "More than you could have at his age, I'd wager. This is Minh. Minh, this is Cường and Tuấn."
Tuấn, leaner and quieter, simply nodded at Lâm Minh, his eyes watchful.
Lâm Minh nodded back, unfazed by Cường's remark. He knew talk was cheap; actions spoke louder.
A few minutes later, a battered, unmarked cargo van, its engine surprisingly quiet, pulled up.
The driver's side window rolled down, revealing a wizened old man with shrewd, calculating eyes.
This had to be Old Feng.
"Hạnh," Old Feng rasped. "Is everyone prepared?"
"Ready, Uncle Feng," Hạnh replied respectfully. "This is the new lad, Minh."
Old Feng's gaze flickered over Lâm Minh, lingering for a moment.
It was a surprisingly sharp, penetrating gaze.
"Young. But his eyes are old. Good. Less likely to do something foolish." He gestured with his chin.
"Get in. We move now. And remember the rules: no questions about the cargo. Just ensure it reaches the rendezvous point in one piece."
They piled into the back of the van, which was surprisingly spacious but empty except for a few securely tied-down, heavy-looking crates covered with tarpaulins.
The air inside was stale and carried a metallic scent.
The van navigated through the darkened streets, taking a circuitous route, avoiding major checkpoints.
Lâm Minh utilized his Qi Sense.
He could feel the dense, inert energy of the metal crates, but nothing that indicated "Spirit Stones" or anything overtly mystical.
Whatever the cargo was, it was mundane, yet valuable enough to warrant this level of secrecy and protection.
They were deep within Zone 9, an area of almost total ruin, when trouble found them.
The van lurched violently as it rounded a corner, a series of sharp impacts resounding from its sides. Ambush!
"Contacts! Both sides!" Cường yelled, drawing a wicked-looking machete.
Old Feng cursed from the driver's seat, skillfully maneuvering the van through a narrow gap between collapsed buildings, but they were clearly being herded.
Lâm Minh's Qi Sense flared. He could detect at least half a dozen hostile life-auras closing in, reeking of desperation and malice.
They were human.
Gang members, most likely.
The back doors of the van burst open, and figures began attempting to board.
"Defend the cargo!" Hạnh bellowed, swinging a heavy metal pipe.
Lâm Minh needed no instruction.
He moved to the rear, his crowbar already infused with Qi.
A figure in rags, face obscured by a crude mask, lunged at him with a rusty knife.
Lâm Minh met the attack head-on.
His crowbar, now harder than ordinary steel, parried the knife with a clang, the force of the blow sending a jarring shock up the attacker's arm.
Before the man could recover, Lâm Minh smashed the crowbar into his ribs. A sickening crack resounded.
The man screamed and tumbled back out of the van.
Another attacker tried to clamber in. Lâm Minh's movements were economical, brutal.
A thrust to the throat with the pointed end of the crowbar. A choked gurgle.
Another body falling.
He wasn't just fighting; he was a whirlwind of controlled violence, his past life's combat instincts seamlessly blending with his new Qi-enhanced abilities.
Cường and Tuấn were fighting capably as well, but Lâm Minh was in a different league, his efficiency terrifying to behold.
Hạnh, after striking an attacker attempting to climb in her side, glanced back and witnessed Lâm Minh in action.
Her one good eye widened in disbelief.
This wasn't just "handling himself." This was… something else entirely.
The skirmish was fierce but brief.
The attackers, clearly not anticipating such ferocious resistance, particularly from the "kid," faltered.
After three more of their number fell, either dead or grievously wounded by Lâm Minh and the others, they broke and fled into the darkness.
Silence descended, punctuated only by heavy breathing and the groan of the damaged van.
"Everyone… alright?" Hạnh panted, leaning against the side of the van for support.
Cường was clutching a bleeding arm, but the injury didn't appear serious.
Tuấn had a cut on his cheek.
Old Feng was cursing vehemently about the damage to his van.
Lâm Minh was untouched.
He had moved too quickly, struck too decisively.
He looked at the bodies of the fallen attackers.
No satisfaction. Just a cold, grim acknowledgement of necessity.
This was the reality of their world. Kill or be killed. Protect what's yours.
Old Feng climbed out, inspecting the damage. He then looked at the bodies, and subsequently at Lâm Minh, who was wiping his crowbar clean on a piece of rag.
"The kid…" Old Feng said slowly, his shrewd eyes reassessing Lâm Minh completely. "He's a damn demon with that piece of iron."
Hạnh nodded. "Told you he was good, Uncle."
Lâm Minh didn't react to the praise.
He was using his Qi Sense, scanning the area.
One of the attackers, the first one he'd struck in the ribs, was still alive, groaning faintly in the shadows.
He walked over.
The man looked up, his eyes wide with terror.
Lâm Minh looked down at him, his expression unreadable.
Then, he turned and walked back to the van.
He had no interest in unnecessary cruelty, but also no inclination for mercy towards those who had tried to kill him and steal the cargo he was paid to protect.
Their fate was their own to bear.
They reached the rendezvous point on the fringes of the Rust Market without further incident.
It was a dimly lit, heavily guarded warehouse.
Old Feng exchanged a few coded words with some shadowy figures, and the crates were quickly unloaded.
True to his word, Old Feng paid them.
Five hundred crisp ASEAN credits for each of them.
Lâm Minh pocketed his share. It felt substantial, the weight of it.
Earned through risk and skill.
As they were departing, Old Feng pulled Hạnh and Lâm Minh aside.
"Hạnh, your eye for talent remains sharp," he said.
Then he looked at Lâm Minh. "Kid, what you did back there… that wasn't luck. That was skill. Are you interested in more work? Regular work? I always need people who can deliver. And I pay well for reliability."
Lâm Minh met the old merchant's gaze. "What kind of work?"
"Various assignments," Old Feng said vaguely.
"Sometimes protection. Sometimes… acquisitions. Sometimes, just ensuring messages are delivered effectively." He smiled, a humorless twitch of his lips.
"You seem like you would be a very effective messenger."
This was a deeper step into the underworld. But it was also a direct line to resources.
"I'm reliable," Lâm Minh stated.
"Good." Old Feng handed him a small, metallic token.
"This will grant you access to the Rust Market proper, past the outer guards. Find the stall with the sign of a sleeping dragon. Ask for Yan. Tell him Feng sent you. He sometimes has… items that cultivators find useful."
Lâm Minh's heart beat faster.
Items cultivators find useful. Spirit Stones.
This was it. The next step. The Rust Market. And a direct contact.
The risks were escalating, but so were the potential rewards. He was no longer just scavenging for scraps of condensate.
He was being drawn into the dangerous, lucrative heart of the city's shadow economy.
And he was ready for it.