After the incident, Shen Yu sought out Shino, recounting everything that had transpired in the Fish-Man village.
The thought nagged at Shino. If Chino truly had transformed into a Fish-Man—or worse—there was a significant chance he would be in that village.
With this possibility in mind, Shino agreed to accompany Shen Yu.
But despite scouring the faces of those in the village, Chino was nowhere to be found.
Disheartened and frustrated, Shino’s interest in Ye Long’s proposition waned. The Dagon Alliance, the Ancient Artifact—none of it mattered to him.
Without another word, he turned and left.
Shen Yu stood rooted to the spot, caught in a whirlwind of uncertainty.
He glanced at Ye Long and pointed at himself hesitantly. “Do you think I can help you steal this Ancient Artifact?”
Ye Long’s dark eyes rested on him for a moment before he responded bluntly, “...You can’t.”
Shen Yu’s shoulders slumped slightly, but Ye Long continued.
“Similarly, I can’t either.”
He glanced in the direction Shino had left. “Among everyone I know, only he could do it. If anyone has a chance, it’s him.”
...
In a small bookstore tucked away in an Asian city, the air was still, the only sound the faint rustle of pages being turned.
Mei sat by herself, engrossed in a thick, weathered tome. The tranquility of the store suited her perfectly.
But the peace shattered when two children burst into the bookstore, their voices echoing as they chased each other between the shelves.
Mei’s eyes lifted from the page, her expression impassive. She quietly closed the book and walked to the counter.
“I’ll buy this,” she said, her voice as calm as a still lake.
The bookstore owner, a middle-aged woman with tired eyes, glanced up. She picked up the tag on the book and scanned it. “Twenty.”
Mei slid her phone from her pocket, making the payment without a word. Then, as if an afterthought, she spoke again.
“Owner, I want to rent a bookstore. It doesn’t need to be in a great location. I want a quiet storefront.”
The owner raised an eyebrow, her hands pausing mid-motion. A quiet storefront? Not in a prime spot?
Her thoughts swirled. 'How could such a place make money? Who opens a store without wanting profit? And if she wanted quiet, wasn’t her own home enough?'
After a pause, the owner finally replied. “There are some old buildings on Cheng Street. No one goes there. The rent is dirt cheap. It’s not just quiet—it’s deserted. During the day, you won’t see a single soul.”
Mei’s lips curled into a faint smile. “That sounds perfect.”
“Thank you for the tip,” she added, tucking the book under her arm.
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
With that, Mei turned and exited the store, her steps unhurried.
Reaching the shadowy mouth of an alleyway, she paused for the briefest moment. Then, in an instant, her figure shimmered, dissolving into the air like smoke in the wind.
...
In the Crack Space, the moment Mei appeared, the massive serpent recoiled instinctively, its immense form retreating from her approach.
Mei, however, advanced without hesitation, her voice calm yet brimming with oddity. “Do you think you could evolve into a bookshelf? Or perhaps… a library?”
The serpent froze, its slit pupils narrowing.
A library? A bookshelf?
Unperturbed, Mei elaborated with unsettling cheer. “Imagine this: your bones form towering shelves, your sinews stretch into walls, your skin wraps the chambers. Could you see it? A living, breathing library.”
The serpent’s silence was answer enough.
Mei sighed and shook her head. “No sense of humor. Fine, no more jokes. Let’s see if you can become something useful—a potion vial, perhaps.”
The serpent’s massive body quivered. Its mind raced. Mei was preparing another one of her infamous concoctions.
No, no, no. I have to escape! I must escape! If I stay here, she’ll ruin me!
With dread-filled eyes, the serpent watched Mei gather ingredients and mix them with practiced precision. She turned back, a vial of ominous liquid in hand.
“Time for your medicine,” she said with a faint smile.
The serpent’s jaw clamped shut in defiance.
Mei sighed. She grabbed a tool to force its maw open. As she pried apart its jaws, her gaze landed on something unexpected—a radiant, pure white pearl nestled in its mouth.
“Oh?” Mei plucked the pearl free, eliciting a violent reaction from the serpent. Its body writhed furiously, but Mei remained unfazed, casually pouring the potion into its mouth.
The serpent convulsed, a shuddering wave rippling through its massive frame. Moments later, it lay still, resigned to its fate.
Unbothered by the serpent’s plight, Mei carried the pearl to her workbench. She held it up to a magnifying glass, scrutinizing its surface until an inscription appeared in her notebook. A grin spread across her face.
“Well, well. Another hidden treasure.”
【Divine Purity Pearl】
Inherent Trait: Transmits information across dimensions. Recipients of the transmission are imprinted with divine thoughts to varying degrees.
“Fascinating,” Mei murmured. “Though the imprinting part is useless to me.”
Her experiments didn’t require loyalty; her creations could be disobedient or unwilling. Mei had no qualms about using force to ensure compliance—as the great serpent had learned firsthand.
But the pearl’s potential in potion-making intrigued her. “Perhaps… it could help craft something approaching true divinity.”
Behind her, a single tear slid down the serpent’s scaled cheek. 'What horrors have I endured? Things no serpent should ever face.'
Mei tossed the pearl onto a shelf, inadvertently dislodging a small seed.
It tumbled to the ground, its crimson hue catching her eye. Mei crouched to retrieve it, inspecting the tiny object.
The label on the seed read: Crimson Rose Tree Seed.
“Oh, this!” Mei exclaimed softly. “I nearly forgot. I was saving this for something… but what?”
She flipped through her notebook, pages rustling as she searched.
“Ah, yes,” she said with satisfaction, tapping a passage. “the Mother of Three-Tile Trees, the name of the list, the Crimson Flow.”
Her expression brightened as she read further. “I lacked the right materials before, but with the serpent’s latest contribution, I can amplify its fear and mystery properties.”
...
Far away, in the restless waters of international seas, a private yacht rocked gently on the waves.
The peace was shattered as a diver burst from the water, shouting, “Lao Kim, Wang Ge, guess what I found!”
A group of men and women gathered around him, their curiosity piqued.
“Did you find treasure?” one asked eagerly.
“There’s a shipwreck down there,” the diver said, beaming. “And a few big chests. They’re heavy—really heavy.”
“Shipwreck?” another chimed in. “Let’s check it out!”
“Don’t mess with things from the sea,” an older man warned.
But the group was undeterred, donning diving suits and plunging into the crystalline waters.
The sunlight filtered down to the seabed, revealing the wreckage of a wooden sailing ship. Time had ravaged its structure, leaving only fragments intact.
They swam into the remains of the bow, where skeletal remains greeted them, sprawled across the rotting planks.
One diver’s eyes widened in horror, but the others pressed on, drawn to the promise of treasure.
In the cabin, they found three ornate wooden chests, one of them locked.
They worked together to pry open the first chest, revealing a jumble of blackened ornaments, lustrous pearls, and irregular gold nuggets—some grotesquely shaped like bones and skulls.
The second chest held similar treasures.
Eager for more, they turned their attention to the locked chest, using a hacksaw to break the corroded lock.
When the chest finally opened, the divers stared in awe. Amid the gold was an object of otherworldly beauty: a golden mask, its surface gleaming with an immortal sheen.