Chapter 163: Turmoil in the Black Market

“Customer? Is something wroong?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

Qing gently placed the book down.

It wasn't just any color; a golden martial art had suddenly popped up out of nowhere. It was incredibly suspicious.

The Secret Manual merchant, the Divine Thief, narrowed his eyes.

But since his eyes were naturally thin slits, narrowing them further didn't create a noticeable change for anyone else.

Still, the wench who had been casually skimming titles and tossing books aside was now carefully placing one down, perfectly aligned. How could that not be suspicious?

“Hm? What’s the matter? Ah, Shadowless Spring Wind. You recognize it? You have quite the eye, yoong?”

“Recognize it? I haven’t even opened it.”

“Didn’t you sense something? It’s the legendary erotic art collection by Master Artist Geum, yoong. Amazing you knew. Here, here, take a look, yoong. How about it? Racy, right?”

The Divine Thief brazenly flipped the book open and shoved it towards her.

A graphic illustration of a tangled man and woman locked in a passionate embrace spread across both pages.

The Divine Thief had expected one of two reactions: either she would lean in seriously, searching for the Sutra, or she would blush furiously, flustered and embarrassed.

But Qing’s reaction was neither.

“This art style is way too old-fashioned East Asian. You’d need a lot of imagination to get worked up over this.”

Well, this was old-fashioned East Asia, so that was only natural.

“What do you think, Sworn Sister?” Qing asked.

“How can he even get it in if she’s holding both his thighs like that?” Pohee observed clinically. “His thing would have to be over a foot long… Besides, her knees would shatter. Useless.”

“Hmm, customers, don’t you feel anything, yoong?” the merchant pressed.

“Not really?” Qing replied nonchalantly.

The Divine Thief’s shoulders slumped in disappointment.

He muttered something under his breath, but Qing, wary of the unidentified Unrestrained Realm expert, caught it.

Weird. I thought she recognized it. Maybe not? Dammit, I’m going to die of old age before I find a successor.

Qing immediately thought, Ah. I shouldn't stay here any longer.

Qing fiddled with the books, killing time.

While she knew she shouldn't stay, she still diligently checked if there might be any other martial arts hidden among the wares.

Unfortunately, there seemed to be no more proper Secret Manuals.

In the meantime, perhaps due to Qing's advertising effect, the merchant managed to pressure-sell a few more books, raking in raw gold pieces.

Seeing that, maybe being his successor wouldn't be so bad after all.

If it weren't for Master, maybe I would have become his successor?

But what kind of successor? Successor to a shady merchant?

Judging by the lean towards Good Karma, he didn’t seem like a bad person, although perhaps due to the influence of his coercive sales tactics, his Karma points had dropped by two since she first saw him.

“Has it been an hour?” Qing asked. “Can I go now?”

“Want to stay just one more hour, yoong? I’ll pay double, yoong,” the merchant offered.

“That’s still just four coins…”

“Then ten times?”

“That’s only twenty,” Qing mused. “Hmm. Twenty coins for an hour isn’t bad, but I have business to attend to, so I need to go. If I have time after I’m done, maybe I’ll stop by again.”

“Okay, yoong. Still, I sold a bit thanks to you. Here. Consider it a performance bonus, yoong.”

The Divine Thief flicked a coin at her.

“Hey,” Qing scoffed. “You wouldn’t even give a beggar a single coin. If you’re going to spend, spend big. Don’t waste a precious coin just to get cursed out.”

“Knowing the value of a coin means you’ll soon be rich, yoong. Farewell, yoong.”

The Divine Thief waved his hand as if seeing them off.

Only after the three figures vanished into the crowd did he murmur quietly to himself.

“A peerless beauty and a woman carrying the Bokshinjeok. Was that fellow behind her a servant?”

The coin the Divine Thief had given her was coated with a special Tracking Scent, leaving a mark that allowed him to track her from afar once she held it.

Since there was no use for single coins in the expensive, rip-off-filled black market, unless she threw it away, it wouldn't pass to anyone else.

And from their conversation, she didn't seem like the type to throw away a coin.

“But the Bokshinjeok… A treasure no Divine Thief in history has ever possessed.”

The Divine Thief grinned slyly.

And yet, this Divine Thief had no idea his own martial art had just been stolen.

She had told them to meet where the ya shang gathered, but her two companions seemed lost in their sightseeing.

Truthfully, Qing had only been sidetracked for about an hour, held up by the strange merchant selling martial arts manuals.

The other two were likely still engrossed in examining poisons and antiques.

No need to wait, I should take care of business first. Wandering around, she finally saw that Namen had earned the meal she’d bought him.

“That’s him, sir!” Namen pointed. “The ya shang who bought the old man’s grandson is right over there.”

Qing smacked Namen on the back of the head.

“Let’s get the facts straight. He bought him? Didn’t you sell him? Weren’t you the one setting up shop and advertising ‘For Sale’?”

“W-Well, yes…” Namen stammered.

Qing approached the ya shang Namen pointed out.

He was a rough-looking man with burn scars covering half his face.

Maybe before she entered the martial arts world, but the current Qing was too much of an expert to be intimidated just by someone’s face.

At the very least, her opponent needed to be around the Unrestrained Realm for her to tuck her chin, hunch her shoulders, and tread carefully.

As luck would have it, this guy’s Bad Karma was about half a notch higher than the other human traffickers—the most wicked one of the bunch.

Why this idiot Unorthodox Faction punk sold the kid to this particular scumbag was beyond her.

“Hey, you there,” Qing called out. “Big Scar. Human trafficker.”

“Are you calling me?” the man sneered. “Have girls these days lost all fear? Hmph, what is it? You here to sell your body? If you are, I could rate you top-class and pay you by the gwan in gold pieces.”

“Then you’d have to cough up about fifty thousand gwan,” Qing shot back. “Forget it. I came to get back a young man you bought.”

She’d assumed Old Man Ban’s grandson was some little kid, but apparently, he was a strapping nineteen-year-old youth this year.

Still, not yet an adult, so he could be called a kid.

Martial artists married late, but for commoners, nineteen was quite young for an old man’s grandson.

By the time someone’s hair was completely white, they’d usually be waiting for great-grandchildren or enjoying their antics.

Anyway, at Qing’s words, Big Scar smirked.

“Well, as long as the gold is sufficient, there’s no problem.”

“His name is Ban Jagwon,” Qing stated. “Grandson from the metal shop. About yay high, a bit shorter than me. Thick eyebrows, dark complexion, lots of moles, I heard.”

“Why don’t you start by telling me when he was sold?” Big Scar drawled, deliberately emphasizing the last word like a petulant child.

“Hey, when was it?” Qing asked Namen.

“It’s been about ten days now, sir,” Namen replied nervously.

“What, ten days?” Big Scar exclaimed with mock disbelief. “Are you kidding me? You think we’re running a charity here? You expect us to feed and house merchandise for ten whole days?”

Qing frowned.

Damn it, this isn’t going to be easy.

“You already sold him?” she asked flatly.

“The metal shop kid?” Big Scar rubbed his chin. “Yeah, I remember him. Knew his way around metalwork, so he fetched a decent price.”

“Who did you sell him to?”

Big Scar wagged his finger.

“Gotta protect customer information. The National Law forbids slaves, you know. If I blabbed about who bought him, how could I stay in business in this line of work?”

“Hm. How much do you want?” Qing tried. “Ten gold pieces?”

It was a negotiating tactic. Offer ten, maybe he’d counter with around twenty. Gramps gave her plenty of gold; if not for times like this, what else was it for?

However, Qing’s plan immediately shattered.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Big Scar scoffed. “Spill customer info, and my life in this business is over. You think there’s any idiot who’d risk their neck for that kind of chump change?”

“Chump change?” Qing echoed incredulously. “It’s ten gold pieces.”

“Not for ten gold pieces, not even for ten gwan of pure gold!” Big Scar insisted. “I told you, my life is on the line. We have rules too, you know.”

“Rules?” Qing sneered. “You slugs who sell people talking about rules? Even a stray dog would laugh itself sick at that.”

“Why, you insolent little bitch talking like—”

“Enough,” Qing cut him off sharply. “A life price, you said. So, should I just pay your life price?”

Big Scar’s eyes changed, a greedy glint appearing.

“Life price, hehe. I see now, you’re quite the noble personage. This humble one has been in the business a long time, so you’ll have to compensate me handsomely.”

“Oh?” Qing asked softly. “How much?”

Big Scar should have looked closer at Qing’s expression.

Her pupils had shrunk to pinpricks, a faint violet demonic energy swirling within them, looking utterly malevolent. Added to that was a grin stretching ear to ear, a truly vicious sight.

“First, so that this humble one can withdraw safely, Ackk!!”

Big Scar, who had been speaking obsequiously, suddenly screamed.

Kicked squarely between the legs and launched a foot into the air—anyone would interrupt themselves mid-sentence to scream.

This was the lineage-ending strike feared by all the soldiers in Sichuan, the very move whose witnesses were supposedly still suffering psychological trauma and sleepless nights—the signature blow of the Absolute Witch.

Big Scar, having flown vertically upwards, fell vertically downwards according to basic scientific principles.

Qing caught his ankle as he fell and, with a sickening crunch, crushed it in her grip.

“Uwaaaargh!!!”

“Such theatrics,” Qing tutted. “Just because your balls got busted and your ankle got pulverized, you’re screaming like that? Call yourself a man? Cut off your dick, go on. Oh? Wait, are you even a man anymore?”

“Kuh… heok…” Big Scar choked.

“Snap out of it!” Qing demanded. “I was actually thinking of leaving you one intact. Hopping on one leg is much better than being completely crippled, isn’t it?”

Qing kicked the back of Big Scar, who was curled up clutching his groin, repeatedly. But lost in agony, unable to even properly register the pain of his crushed ankle, how could a few dozen kicks possibly bring him to his senses?

It was then.

Tatatak! Swish! With a flurry of footsteps and the rustling of clothes, martial artists clad in tailored black uniforms surrounded Qing.

“What is the meaning of this!” one shouted. “How dare you cause a disturbance in the black market!”

“Dare?” Qing retorted coolly. “Are you serving the Emperor or something? Just running a night market, what’s with the ‘dare’?”

Their skills were mediocre; a few First-Rate mixed with a couple of Peak Realm experts weren’t scary at all.

“You put hefty bounties on heads, right?” Qing declared. “Go ahead. Put one on me. My name is Un Yeonyeong of the Jinju Eon Clan. She has nothing to do with this.” She gestured towards Pohee.

“Huh? Sworn Sister, but…” Pohee started.

“It’s fine,” Qing interrupted. “I have a plan. Anyway, they were just watching, so they’re uninvolved, right? Okay, Soyeong-ah, step back for a moment. Give me the flute. Namen, you’ve done your part, you’re free too. Go.”

Gyeon Pohee hesitated, then finally slumped her shoulders and moved away.

Surprisingly, the black market warriors obediently stepped aside, perhaps reluctant to issue multiple bounties or perhaps just following their rules.

If they hadn't let her go, my Sworn Sister might have had to become Ximen Qing, disciple of the Zenith Among Women. Looks like that won't be necessary.

“There,” Qing said, turning back to the guards. “Now, if your business is done, scram. I have things to discuss with him.” She nudged Big Scar with her foot. “Hmm. Hey. Aren’t you going to snap out of it soon?”

“Kkheuk,” Big Scar gasped. “Crazy… crazy bitch… Picking a fight with the Black Store…”

“That’s right,” Qing affirmed cheerfully. “This Un Yeonyeong is crazy. If you’d just spilled everything for ten gold pieces, you wouldn’t have ended up castrated. I really don’t get it. Option A: receive ten gold pieces. Option B: become a eunuch. And you chose B.”

“You bitch are dead now— Aaargh!!” Big Scar’s threat was cut short as Qing stomped hard on his hand.

Infused with the profound principle of the Heavenly Demon Overlord Step, the sensation of the bones beneath her foot crumbling into sand-like fragments was absolutely ecstatic.

A Black Store warrior roared.

“St-Stop! What are you doing!”

“No,” Qing replied simply. “You’re going to put a bounty on me anyway, right? Why should I stop now? If this Un Yeonyeong stops here, will you cancel the bounty?”

“You dare look down on the Black Store!” the warrior fumed.

“Yep, yep,” Qing chirped. “Un Yeonyeong looks down on the Black Store so much. Why should the great Un Yeonyeong of the Jinju Eon Clan fear an organization run by a bunch of gutter trash mongrels who gather up dregs that resemble a beggar’s ballsack to run a night market?”

“How dare you!!!”

“If you’ve got a problem, come at me,” Qing challenged, meeting their eyes.

The Black Store warriors hesitated, visibly intimidated by her blatant provocation.

“Otherwise,” Qing continued, waving a hand dismissively, “just watch.”

She slammed her foot onto the back of Big Scar, who was subtly trying to crawl away.

“So,” she leaned down, her voice dangerously sweet, “where did you sell that young man?”

“I’ll talk!” Big Scar choked out, tears streaming down his face. “I’ll talk, just spare my life…”

Only then did Qing grin widely, a chilling sight.

“See?” she said brightly. “I told you. I’d pay your life price.”