An retreated into the port's shadows, his heart beating a cold, steady rhythm. The words of the two Black Iron Guards still echoed in his mind, not as a rumor, but as a verified dataset. Slaves. Women and children. Midnight.
A surge of anger, an emotion he thought he had long buried under layers of analysis and survival logic, suddenly rose up. He remembered the emotionless faces in the meetings of his past life, those who were willing to sacrifice junior employees to meet quarterly goals. Bai Wen was the same, but his playground was a hundred thousand times more brutal. He didn't just ruin careers; he ruined lives.
An stood in the alley, the salty smell of fish and seawater unable to mask the stench of crime. He had to do something. But what?
He analyzed the options:
* Direct confrontation: Suicide. He was at the first level of Qi Refining, about to break through to the second. The two guards were already level 6. The escorts on the ship were certainly even stronger.
* Reporting to the town guards: Useless. The town guards were under the authority of Baron Bai, Bai Wen's father. Reporting to them was no different from turning himself in.
* Creating a diversion, causing chaos: He could set another warehouse on fire as a distraction. But then what? He might be able to save tonight's shipment, but he couldn't stop the next ones. And that act would make him a hunted target. The risk was too high, the effectiveness too low.
* Ignoring it: This was the safest option. He had money, he had Demonic Crystals. He could leave this town immediately, find another place to cultivate. But the image of women and children locked in cages, awaiting a fate worse than death, appeared in his mind. He couldn't do it. There was a line that even a goblin didn't want to cross.
There was only one last option. A risky move, but the only one with the potential to change the game. He wouldn't fight the Bai Clan. He would let the Bai Clan's enemies do it.
He remembered the words of the old manager at the Myriad Treasures Pavilion. "We pay a high price, and more importantly, we know how to keep a secret."
An turned, his small figure quickly disappearing from the port area. He didn't return to the inn. He headed straight for the eastern district, where the Myriad Treasures Pavilion was located. By now, the sky was dark. Most of the shops had closed, and the streets were empty. The three-story building of the Myriad Treasures Pavilion had also extinguished all its lights, its main door shut tight. But An knew an organization like this never truly "slept."
He didn't go to the main door. He circled around to the alley behind, where there was a smaller side door. He didn't knock. He just stood there, silent in the darkness, like a predator patiently waiting. He circulated his spiritual power, creating a small, almost unnoticeable fluctuation in the air around him—a technique he had just mastered after his breakthrough. It was a signal, a message for those who could sense it.
A few minutes passed. The side door suddenly creaked open, just enough for one person to slip through. The old manager from the other day appeared, holding a small lantern, his sharp eyes peering into the darkness where An stood. "Young man, what brings you here so late?" he asked, his tone still gentle but with an added layer of vigilance.
An stepped out of the shadows. "I have some goods," he said, his voice raspy. "Goods that the Myriad Treasures Pavilion will definitely be very interested in."
The old man narrowed his eyes. "What kind of goods must be traded at this hour?"
An didn't answer right away. He stared into the old man's eyes, letting the silence stretch, adding weight to the words he was about to say. "Warehouse Number 3 at the port," he said, word by word. "Midnight. There will be a special shipment of 'live goods' arriving."
The air around them seemed to drop a few degrees. The gentle smile on the old man's face completely vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp look. He didn't ask An how he knew. In this world, the source of information was not as important as the value of the news itself.
"What do you want?" the old man asked directly.
"I don't need money," An replied. "I need a promise. In the future, when I need the Myriad Treasures Pavilion's help, you will not refuse, within a reasonable scope."
He was making a bet. He was turning a piece of information into a relationship, an investment for the future.
The old man looked at him for a long time, his deep eyes weighing all the possibilities. Finally, he nodded. "Done. The Myriad Treasures Pavilion owes you a favor."
He took out a small jade token, engraved with the character "Treasure", and gave it to An. "When the time comes, bring this token. Someone will receive you."
He said nothing more, just silently signaled for another figure to appear from the darkness before quickly disappearing. "Now go, young man," the old manager said. "The port will not be quiet tonight. Don't get caught up in it."
An took the token, feeling the coolness of the jade. He nodded, then quickly turned and vanished into the alleys.
He had lit the fuse of a bomb. Now it was time to find a safe place and watch it explode.