## Chapter 3: Rooftop Gambits and Festival Follies
The spectral slot machine spun within the Common Pool, a whirlwind of mundane symbols: a fist, a running figure, a lockpick, a stylized eye, a coiled rope. From his perch on the sloping, mossy tiles of a tanner's workshop roof, Fang Lin watched with intense focus. Ten points per draw. Three hundred points meant thirty chances. An accountant's dream and nightmare rolled into one. He needed versatility, subtlety, tools for evasion, information gathering, and *controlled* chaos generation. Secrecy was paramount. *Flashy powers get dissected,* he reminded himself grimly, the memory of Zhang Wei's enraged face still vivid.
First draw: `[ Acquired: Card - Item: Lockpick Set (Catwoman Variant - Common) ]` A small, leather-wrapped case appeared in his pouch. *Useful for discreet entry. Or exit.*
Second draw: `[ Acquired: Card - Item: Chameleon Camouflage Cloak (Basic - Common) ]` A folded square of surprisingly light, greyish fabric. `[ Description: Provides basic visual camouflage against static backgrounds. Effectiveness decreases with movement. Duration: 1 hour. Recharge: 8 hours. ]` *Not invisibility, but potentially lifesaving for hiding.*
Third draw: `[ Acquired: Card - Item: Acme Brand Instant Banana Peel (x5) ]` Fang Lin stared at the five yellow, cartoonishly perfect peels now nestled beside the lockpicks. *…Seriously?* `[ Description: Slippery beyond mundane physics. Guaranteed pratfall upon contact. Non-toxic. Biodegradable (Eventually). ]` A hysterical giggle threatened to escape. *Chaos. Pure, ridiculous chaos. Points generator?*
He drew again. And again. The Common Pool yielded a mix of the practical and the absurd:
* **Enhanced Hearing (Daredevil Variant - Basic):** Permanent ability. Consumed immediately. The cacophony of Silverspring Town sharpened – distant arguments, clinking coins, the rasp of a whetstone three streets away. Combined with his night vision, it created a potent sensory net. `[ +5 Points: Emotional Resonance (Mild Annoyance - Distant Blacksmith (Due to enhanced hearing of his grumbling)) ]`
* **Tracer Tags (Batman Variant - Common x3):** Tiny, adhesive discs. `[ Description: Emits a low-frequency pulse trackable by the G.O.G.S Analyze function within 1 km. ]` *Surveillance. Tracking threats.*
* **Basic First Aid Kit (Comic Medpack - Common):** Gauze, bandages, smelling salts. Mundane but practical.
* **"Inconspicuous" Fake Mustache (Mystery Variant - Common):** Brown, bushy, and utterly ridiculous. `[ Note: Effectiveness highly dependent on observer gullibility. ]`
* **Another set of Smoke Pellets (x3).**
* **A depressingly large number of more Instant Banana Peels (x10 total now).**
After fifteen draws (150 points spent), Fang Lin paused, assessing his haul. He had tools for stealth (cloak, lockpicks, enhanced senses), escape (grapnel, smoke pellets), information (tracers), minor healing, and… a frankly alarming arsenal of slapstick weaponry. He still had 150 points. Time for an upgrade. He focused on his existing abilities.
`[ Ability: Spider-Sense (Peter Parker Variant - Basic) ]`
`[ Upgrade Cost: 100 Points ]`
`[ Effect: Increases warning range to 25 meters. Slightly improves threat differentiation (e.g., distinguishes ambush from falling debris). Reduces chance of sensory overload from multiple minor threats. ]`
It was expensive, but after the ambush, the value was undeniable. He confirmed the upgrade. A fresh wave of cool energy washed over his scalp, the constant low hum of awareness expanding its reach, becoming slightly more nuanced. He could almost *feel* the general agitation of the crowded market below, a low thrum against the sharper spikes of individual emotions. *Worth every point.*
He then looked at his regeneration. `[ Ability: Regenerative Healing Factor (Deadpool Variant - Basic) ]` `[ Upgrade Cost: 200 Points ]` `[ Effect: Significantly increases healing speed. Minor wounds (cuts, bruises) heal near-instantly. Moderate wounds (broken bones, deep lacerations) heal within minutes. Severed limbs regrow within hours (massive caloric intake required). Pain resistance slightly increased. ]` Too expensive right now. He needed reserve points.
His stomach growled, a sharp reminder of his physical needs. He also needed shelter. Staying on the roof wasn't sustainable. He activated his enhanced hearing, filtering the town's noise. Snatches of conversation floated up:
"...Lantern Festival preparations are behind schedule! The Young Mistress wants the Phoenix lanterns hung by sundown..."
"...saw Iron Fist mercenaries near the north gate. Looked tense..."
"...discount on Frostmint? My Qi feels sluggish..."
"...that Verdant Cloud brute and his thugs are still prowling near the Drunken Ox. Looking for someone..."
*Zhang Wei was still hunting.* Fang Lin's Spider-Sense gave a soft, confirming tingle in the direction of the mentioned tavern. He needed to vanish into the town's underbelly. He pulled out the Chameleon Cloak. Unfolding it, he draped it over his shoulders. It felt strangely cool and weightless. Looking down at the sun-drenched tiles, he willed it to activate. The grey fabric shimmered, its color and texture subtly shifting to mimic the weathered terracotta and patches of moss beneath him. When he held perfectly still, he became nearly invisible against the roof. *Perfect for observation.* He wouldn't be walking around unseen, but for hiding or short, careful movements, it was invaluable.
He spent the afternoon as a rooftop ghost. Using the cloak and his enhanced senses, he observed patterns: guard patrol routes, merchant deliveries, the ebb and flow of crowds. He spotted Zhang Wei and his thugs twice, questioning stallholders near the market square, their frustration palpable even from a distance. `[ +10 Points: Emotional Resonance (Frustration - Zhang Wei (Each Sighting)) ]` `[ Total Points: 160 ]`
As dusk approached, painting the sky in hues of violet and orange, the town's energy shifted. Lanterns were being lit everywhere – paper globes, intricate animal shapes, glowing orbs strung across streets. Preparations for the Lantern Festival were reaching a fever pitch. *A festival. Crowds. Noise. Distraction.* Fang Lin saw opportunity. Emotional Resonance on a massive scale. And potential cover.
He needed a base. Using his lockpicks and cloak, he accessed a seemingly abandoned storage loft above a closed pottery shop. It was dusty and cramped but dry, hidden, and offered a good view of a bustling side street through a cracked shutter. Perfect. He used some of his mundane silver taels (acquired by discreetly selling a single spirit stone to a desperate-looking herb seller) to buy basic rations – tough journeybread, dried meat, a waterskin. He also acquired a simple, dark tunic and trousers from a second-hand stall, replacing his conspicuous Verdant Cloud robes. He kept the disciple token hidden.
Night fell, and Silverspring Town transformed. The twin moons cast their ethereal glow, but it was drowned out by the thousands of lanterns turning the streets into rivers of multicolored light. Music – flutes, drums, strange stringed instruments – filled the air, mingling with laughter, shouts, and the sizzle of street food. The crowds were immense, a press of bodies radiating a cacophony of emotions: excitement, joy, drunken revelry, romantic anticipation, petty irritation, and the ever-present undercurrent of watchfulness.
Fang Lin merged into the throng, the hood of his ordinary tunic pulled up, his senses dialed up to eleven. The Spider-Sense was a constant, low-level buzz, pinging softly at potential pickpockets, jostling drunks, or the occasional stray firework. He wasn't here to fight. He was here to *farm*.
His first target: a boisterous group of young cultivators (likely from a minor clan, Analyze showed Grain Tempering to early Blood Boiling) boasting loudly near a lantern-decorated archway. One, a brash youth with a loud voice, was regaling his friends with an exaggerated tale of a spirit beast hunt. Fang Lin, moving like a shadow, slipped an **Acme Brand Instant Banana Peel** onto the cobbles directly in the loud youth's path mid-boast.
"...and then I wrestled the Razor-Scaled Viper with my bare hands– WHOAAA!" His foot landed squarely on the peel. Physics, comic-style, took over. His legs shot out from under him with impossible speed. He landed flat on his back with a resonant *THUMP*, his breath whooshing out. His friends stared, frozen for a second, before erupting in uproarious laughter. The fallen youth blinked, dazed, his face flushing crimson with utter humiliation.
`[ +80 Points: Emotional Resonance (Extreme Embarrassment/Rage - Boastful Youth) ]`
`[ +50 Points: Emotional Resonance (Amusement/Schadenfreude - Friends) ]`
`[ +20 Points: Emotional Resonance (Surprise/Amusement - Bystanders) ]`
`[ Total Points: 310 ]`
*Profit.* Fang Lin melted back into the crowd before the youth could scramble up, sputtering indignantly.
He moved on. Near a stall selling sweet rice dumplings, he saw a harried mother trying to corral three over-excited children while holding steaming parcels. One child, a little girl reaching for a dangling rabbit lantern, stumbled, about to knock over a precarious stack of painted ceramic cups. Fang Lin's enhanced reflexes kicked in. He darted forward, a blur in the crowd, and steadied the stack before it could topple. The mother gasped, her face a mask of relief and gratitude. "Oh! Thank you, young man! You saved me a silver tael's worth of breakage!"
`[ +40 Points: Emotional Resonance (Intense Relief/Gratitude - Mother) ]`
`[ +5 Points: Emotional Resonance (Confused Curiosity - Children) ]`
`[ Total Points: 355 ]`
He gave a quick nod and vanished before she could engage him further.
He spotted a pair of Silver Scale guards looking bored near a festival fountain. Using the crowd as cover, he attached a **Tracer Tag** to the back of one guard's polished belt buckle. *Information is power. Knowing guard movements could be crucial.* `[ +5 Points: Emotional Resonance (Mild Boredom - Guard) ]`
The Spider-Sense gave a sudden, sharp spike – not immediate physical danger, but intense, focused hostility nearby. He followed the sensation, weaving through the revelers, until he saw them. Zhang Wei and his two thugs, standing near a fortune-teller's gaudy tent, scanning the crowd. Zhang Wei's face was a thundercloud of frustration. They were questioning the fortune-teller, an old woman who looked terrified. Fang Lin's Analyze confirmed it: `[ Emotional State: Extreme Fear (Fortune Teller). Frustrated Rage (Zhang Wei). Greed/Impatience (Thugs). ]`
*They're getting desperate. And dangerous.* Fang Lin couldn't let them terrorize innocents. He needed to redirect their rage, safely. He noticed a large, self-important merchant in rich silks nearby, loudly berating a lantern seller about prices, radiating arrogance. `[ Emotional State: Pompous Indignation (Merchant) ]`
A plan formed, risky but potentially lucrative in points. He needed a distraction *away* from the fortune-teller. He pulled out another **Acme Banana Peel** and, using the crowd's movement as cover, flicked it with practiced aim. It slid perfectly onto the cobbles just as the pompous merchant took a step back, gesturing grandly at the sky while arguing.
His expensive boot landed squarely on the peel. A look of utter astonishment crossed his face as his legs executed a perfect, involuntary split before he crashed backwards into a stall selling paper fans, sending a colorful cascade fluttering into the air. He landed amidst the wreckage, silk robes torn, face purple with apoplectic rage and sheer disbelief. "WHAT DEMONRY IS THIS?! GUARDS! GUARDS!"
The commotion was immense. Laughter mixed with shouts of alarm. People surged towards the spectacle. Zhang Wei and his thugs, distracted from the fortune-teller, turned towards the noise, confusion warring with their predatory instincts. The fortune-teller seized the moment to duck back into her tent and pull the flap closed.
`[ +150 Points: Emotional Resonance (Apocalyptic Rage/Humiliation - Pompous Merchant) ]`
`[ +70 Points: Emotional Resonance (Shock/Amusement - Bystanders) ]`
`[ +50 Points: Emotional Resonance (Confusion/Redirected Frustration - Zhang Wei & Thugs) ]`
`[ +30 Points: Emotional Resonance (Intense Relief - Fortune Teller) ]`
`[ Total Points: 655 ]`
Fang Lin didn't wait. He slipped down a side alley, heart pounding with adrenaline and satisfaction. The points rolled in like a tidal wave. He found a quieter spot near a glowing paper dragon display, leaning against a wall, catching his breath. 655 points! A fortune! Enough for multiple Uncommon draws or a significant upgrade. He could feel the oppressive weight of the Heaven Star Realm lessening slightly, replaced by a thrilling sense of possibility. He had tools, he had points, he had a system.
Suddenly, his upgraded Spider-Sense flared – not a sharp spike, but a sustained, intense *drumming* at the base of his skull, radiating from the direction of the main square. **DANGER. SIGNIFICANT. MULTIPLE HIGH-LEVEL THREATS.** It wasn't directed at him specifically, but it permeated the air, thick and menacing.
He pushed away from the wall, activating Analyze and scanning the flow of the crowd. His enhanced hearing picked up a shift in the festival's noise – the music faltering, laughter dying, replaced by murmurs of unease and the distinct clank of heavy armor. Through a gap in the crowd, he saw them.
A contingent of cultivators entered the main square, parting the festive throng like a cold blade. They weren't Silver Scale guards. Their armor was darker, edged in a deep, bloody crimson. Their leader, a woman with ice-cold eyes and a scar running down one cheek, radiated power that made Overseer Chen seem like a child. Analyze struggled: `[ Target Group: Affiliation - Blood Skull Altar (Suspected). Cultivation Levels: Multiple Core Formation Detected (Leader: Void Tribulation Realm (Estimated)). Emotional State: Collective Disdain/Aggression. Threat Level: EXTREME. Recommend Immediate Evasion. ]`
*Blood Skull Altar.* Memories surfaced – a notorious demonic sect from the Bone Abyss continent, known for brutality and blood rituals. What were they doing here, in Verdant Cloud territory, during a festival? The festive atmosphere curdled into palpable fear. The Spider-Sense drummed incessantly. This wasn't just a threat to Fang Lin; this was a potential massacre.
The demonic leader raised a hand, silencing the remnants of music and chatter. Her voice, amplified by Qi, cut through the night like shards of ice. "Citizens of Silverspring. Your festival... is over. The Blood Skull Altar claims tribute. Gold. Spirit Stones. And... volunteers." Her gaze swept the crowd, lingering on younger, healthier individuals. Panic began to ripple through the masses.
Fang Lin froze, not from fear alone, but calculation. *Extreme Emotional Resonance.* Terror on a massive scale. But intervening was suicide. He was a gnat against these monsters. Yet, the points... and the sheer, monstrous injustice of it. His cautious nature screamed *RUN*. His accountant's mind saw the potential yield. And a small, rebellious spark, ignited by Deadpool's chaotic influence and the sheer absurdity of his existence, whispered: *Chaos is currency. But sometimes... you gotta spend it to make it.*
He looked down at his pouch. 655 points. He looked at the terrified crowd, at the arrogant demonic cultivators. He looked at his remaining cards: Smoke pellets. Banana peels. A grapnel launcher. A chameleon cloak. Spider-Sense drumming a warning symphony.
*What would a comic book hero do?* The thought was ludicrous. He was no hero. He was Fang Lin, the talentless office worker reborn. But he had a system. And right now, Silverspring needed a distraction. A big, stupid, *chaotic* distraction.
A slow, dangerous smile touched his lips, hidden beneath his hood. He still had ten Acme Banana Peels. And a Void Tribulation Realm demoness looked like she needed a pratfall. The Spider-Sense screamed its loudest warning yet as he reached into his pouch.
*Time to invest heavily.*