In the following days, An disappeared.
Not disappeared from the town, but disappeared from the sight of those who might pay attention to him. The G-rank adventurer's tag was tucked away at the bottom of his bag. The Adventurer's Guild, with its curious gazes and gossip, became a place he absolutely avoided.
Instead, he blended into the small alleys, the chaotic markets, and the cheap tea houses in the western part of town—a place where laborers, the unemployed, and those with stories to tell but no one to listen gathered. He became a ghost in a cloak, a small figure sitting in a dark corner, with only a bowl of bland tea and his ears wide open.
And he began to hunt for data.
This town, under his analytical eyes, was a complex ecosystem of power and fear.
"The taxes are going up again... the Merchant's Guild is a bunch of bloodsuckers," an old vegetable seller complained to the person next to him. "My goods just reached the town gate and their Black Iron Guard stopped me, demanding an 'inspection fee.' What kind of inspection fee? It's clearly protection money!"
"Shh! Keep your voice down, old man," the other person warned. "Don't you want to be hung on the town walls? Who doesn't know the Merchant's Guild belongs to the Bai family?"
An silently made a note. Merchant's Guild = Bai Clan. Black Iron Guard = The Guild's armed force. Modus Operandi: Oppression, charging unreasonable fees.
Another day, in a tavern reeking of cheap alcohol, he heard another story from two drunk porters. "...the kid just accidentally bumped into Young Master Bai's horse... and he got both his legs broken. I heard that afterward, the Merchant's Guild people dragged him away, and no one ever saw him again."
Bai Wen. Traits: Cruel, disregards human life. Method of handling things: Violence and elimination.
By day, An was a shadow, collecting every piece of data, piecing them together into a bigger picture of the Bai family's power. He used a little money to buy a set of even older, darker brown common clothes, which helped him blend into the crowd perfectly. He observed the Black Iron Guards on patrol, analyzing their equipment and behavior. He memorized the locations of the Merchant's Guild's warehouses, and the routes they frequently used.
At night, the small inn room became his cultivation sanctuary. He locked the door tightly and took out the jet-black Demonic Crystals. A stream of pure, cool energy was continuously absorbed by him, converted into spiritual power, and filled his meridians at a frantic pace.
[Spiritual Power: 154/200]
[Spiritual Power: 155/200]
The tangible progress gave him a fragile sense of security. Every point of spiritual power gained was another sliver of hope for survival when the final confrontation came.
After three days immersed in the loop of "hunting data by day, leveling up by night," An had reached the peak of the first level of Qi Refining. He was just a short step away from the second level.
But he also realized that the rumors and gossip in the tea houses could only provide him with surface-level information. He needed something deeper, a real crack in the enemy's machine.
That evening, he didn't return to the inn right away. He went to the "Rat's Nest," a tavern in the most squalid part of town, where failed adventurers, washed-up mercenaries, and criminals gathered. This was where information was traded for wine and whispers.
He chose the darkest corner, ordered a cup of water, and listened silently. Most of it was just boasting and cursing.
But then, a conversation from a nearby table caught his ear.
Two men in the uniforms of the Black Iron Guard, but with their outer armor removed, were complaining in their drunken state.
"Damn it! Having to clean up that Bai Wen's messes again," one of them said, taking a large swig of ale. "Who does he think he is? If it weren't for the Baron backing him, he would have been torn to pieces by the adventurers at the Guild long ago."
"Keep your voice down," the other warned, but his voice was also full of discontent. "But you're right. The Baron is cautious, but his son only knows how to cause trouble. Last week he had his men beat up a steward from the 'Myriad Treasures Pavilion' just because the old man refused to sell him something. Now the Pavilion is pressuring the Guild, and the Baron has to go and solve it."
An held his breath. Myriad Treasures Pavilion. A new name. Another power.
The first man continued. "I just wish I could get transferred to guard the warehouse at the port. It's an easy gig, and you get a little extra on the side. I'm sick of following that young master around, I'll get myself killed sooner or later."
The port. The warehouse.
An stood up, quietly leaving a few small coins on the table and exiting the tavern. The darkness of the alley swallowed him.
He had gotten what he needed. An opponent of the Bai family. And a specific location where shady activities might be taking place.
He was no longer just collecting data. Now, it was time to start the deep analysis, and find a way to exploit it.