Liam weaved his way through the bustling crowd, moving against the tide of anxious footsteps and hurried faces.
The city felt uneasy, like a stretched string one breath away from snapping.
He passed quietly through it all, eventually stopping in front of the familiar entrance of the chamber of commerce from before.
A shop.
Same building. Different atmosphere.
"When disaster strikes, people flees like cockroaches" he whispered.
Stepping in.
But unlike before, the interior was no longer neatly arranged or filled with gentle conversation.
Instead, workers scurried about, arms full of boxes, stacking, sealing, rushing.
Even the elegant receptionist from last time was bent over a crate, fingers trembling slightly as she tied it shut.
The moment Liam's figure entered the doorway, heads turned.
Every eye in the room snapped toward him. Their movements stalled.
Then.
Caution immediately filled the air.
Understandable.
From their view, he was the very image of a villain, towering frame, every inch of his body cloaked in shadowed fabric, a strange mask hiding his face like some executioner from an old nightmare.
Just looking at him screamed one word: danger.
And in times like these, people didn't need more reasons to panic.
But before the staff could speak, or scream, maybe, a soft voice rang out from the side staircase.
"It's fine. He's my guest."
Their heads turned again. Liam followed their gazes.
Descending with grace was the same woman from before.
As stunning as ever.
Her dress clung tightly to her frame, elegance with just the right amount of allure.
It was the kind of look that made nearby men freeze mid-breath, their imaginations running wild.
She didn't stop at the bottom.
With a glance, half suspicious, half curious, she pivoted smoothly on her heel and gestured for him to follow.
Her heels echoed lightly as she led the way up the stairs.
Liam trailed behind in silence.
Once inside the upstairs chamber, the heavy door clicked shut behind them.
The guards outside stayed silent.
The two sat down on the couch, her with poise, him with unreadable stillness.
A beat of silence filled the room.
Liam glanced around. Most of the room's usual flair was gone.
Wall hangings removed. Trinkets packed away.
Even the rich incense from before had faded.
She noticed his gaze and cleared her throat lightly. "Please forgive this junior's lacking hospitality. We're in a rather strained moment right now, I hope Senior won't mind."
Her voice was soft and clear, each syllable like a pleasant chime.
Liam stared at her for a brief second, the thought crossing his mind before he could even stop it.
If circumstances allowed, he wouldn't mind stealing her away, bring her home, maybe even spoil her like some precious decoration.
He was, after all, still a man.
A man with power, and like all men with power, his lust sat just beneath the surface.
But business first.
"The news spread fast."
His voice came low and rough through the mask, startling her a little.
She stiffened, but recovered quickly, her smile returning with grace.
"And it seems the entire region is going to be swept into it," he added, leaning back slightly.
"It's troubling indeed, Senior," she replied, her eyes shifting from his mask to the folds of his cloak, studying, trying to glimpse something.
"And I assume… Senior's visit today is to procure supplies?"
"Correct," Liam nodded once. "Though not the kind you'd expect."
"Oh?" Her interest visibly piqued.
She leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on her knees, voice dipped in curiosity. "Our chamber prides itself on having nearly everything. I'm listening."
"Big words," Liam chuckled behind the mask, dry amusement in his tone. "Then let's test them."
Without pause, he listed his demands:
"Several batches of spiritual plant seeds, from tier one to tier two, variety doesn't matter. Tier two materials of any type you can find. And any demonic beast eggs you have in stock."
Hearing the full list, the woman raised a delicate brow, giving Liam's puppet a subtle, lingering glance.
Then, without missing a beat, she smiled.
"This can be done easily, Senior."
Her tone had changed, more refined, slightly warmer now, carrying that careful polish reserved for someone whose status might far exceed what she first assumed.
"In fact, our current stock has everything Senior needs," she continued, her voice calm, but just sharp enough to sound like she was measuring him quietly.
She wasn't wrong to.
Judging by the kinds of materials he asked for, only two possibilities came to mind.
Either he was backed by a faction that had a Foundation Building expert in their ranks…
or he was one.
Her eyes shimmered for a brief second, the glint too subtle for the average eye to catch, but not quite hidden enough.
Liam didn't react.
His puppet stood still, mask silent.
The city lord? she thought.
She eyed the mask again.
It did match the rumors about how the injured city lord had disappeared lately.
Still… no.
She dismissed the idea just as quickly.
The city lord wouldn't be out here doing trade in person.
With a wave of her hand, she gave an order.
The nearby guards bowed slightly and moved out of the room to fetch everything Liam had requested from storage.
Meanwhile, she retrieved a teapot and a delicate set of cups from her storage bag.
Quietly, she placed them on the table, setting things with practiced grace before pouring two cups.
Liam's gaze flicked toward the soft motion of her hand.
He chuckled faintly behind the mask and lifted his hand, palm half-raised in a gentle refusal. "I don't drink tea, little miss."
"I thought as much, Senior," she replied with an easy nod, though she didn't take the cup back.
Instead, she brought her own to her lips and took a slow sip, savoring the warmth.
She hadn't expected what came next.
"From the surface, you have no aura at all," Liam said suddenly, his voice low. "Like a mortal."
He paused, tone growing slightly colder.
"But I don't think you are."
The woman's fingers froze just a little mid-sip.
"Qi Refining Realm, eighth layer. Not bad for someone your age."
There was a brief silence.
She let the aftertaste linger on her tongue, the warmth soaking in, before slowly putting the cup down with a soft clink.
Then, with a graceful bow of her head, she smiled.
"Senior's eyes are sharper than blades," she said with a respectful tilt of her hand. "Few would see through this junior's concealment."
"Most would be fooled," Liam agreed. "Even early-stage Foundation Building monks wouldn't spot it."
His next question came casually, but the weight behind it wasn't lost on her.
"It's an item, isn't it?"
To him, it was just curiosity.
But to her, it said something else entirely.
He doesn't even regard early-stage Foundation Building cultivators as worth mentioning.
The thought rang loud in her head.
And that made her expression shift, just slightly.
More guarded. More respectful.
"It is, Senior," she replied quietly.
She reached toward the hollow just above her chest, fingers slipping into the emerald collar of her dress.
Carefully, she pulled out a coin-sized token, tied with a red silk thread and tucked discreetly against her skin.
"My father gifted it to me," she explained. "A token of recognition when I was assigned my own branch to manage."
"As for its effect… It hides my spiritual energy completely. Foundation Building monks at early stage wouldn't be able to sense me at all."
She glanced up.
"Qi Refining monks… wouldn't notice anything"
Liam nodded along, clearly unbothered by the information.
He wasn't here to dig into her background, but something did stir his curiosity.
"The daughter of the chamber head."
That made her flinch, just a touch. But she didn't deny it.
"Yes. Senior is correct."
"And your father… Mid-stage Foundation Building?" Liam asked.
There was a pause, just half a breath, before she gave a shaky smile.
"Y-yes."
Her words came out slower this time.
His guess was too on point. It wasn't just intuition. It felt like he knew.
That alone made her raise every mental alarm she had.
Whoever he was, this masked figure wasn't someone she could afford to offend.
In fact, she had to assume the worst, that he was peak Foundation Building, maybe even perfection stage.
Trying to keep her nerves from showing, she reached into her sleeve and lightly dabbed at her temple with a handkerchief, brushing behind her ear as if to smooth her hair.
"Senior truly has a piercing gaze."
She said it quietly, with just the right amount of humility.
But Liam simply let it slide. No extra reaction, no need for it.
These third-rate forces? To many, they were daunting walls.
To him… they were barely worth mentioning.
Unless they wanted to throw themselves at death, they'd do well to stay in their place.
He gave a small laugh behind the mask, casual and dismissive. Nothing more.