"Su Zhan, is it? Look at these 105 mixed spirit stones of yours—quite a few of them are of terrible quality!"
In front of the burly man dressed in a tight robe, with a ferocious scar on his bald head, lay a pile of dimly glowing mixed spirit stones.
He casually stirred them with his hand, then fixed his cold gaze on a youth about fifteen or sixteen years old, dressed plainly, face dirty, and looking utterly exhausted. "Usable mixed spirit stones barely number over ninety. Not even a hundred. That doesn't meet the quota. Today, you get no pay. The stones are confiscated. Be smart about it."
"This…"
The youth's brows furrowed, his face darkening, unwillingness brimming in his eyes.
Those hundred stones were the product of an entire day's labor. He had barely rested at all.
All for the sake of at least earning one lower-grade pure spirit stone as guaranteed pay.
Yet with a single sentence, not only was his reward taken, but even the stones he mined were seized.
That meant he'd not only be beaten later, but would have to dig tomorrow while starving… an agony he already knew too well.
"Brother Zhang…"
"Next!"
Su Zhan raised his head, trying to argue, but was silenced by the bald man's hostile glare and intimidating shout.
He had no choice but to shut his mouth. With a sigh in his heart, he turned, unwilling, and walked out.
"Wait."
At that moment, a lean man behind the bald brute—who had been quietly drinking with his eyes closed, his body radiating danger—suddenly opened his eyes.
His gaze was razor sharp. Just a glance made Su Zhan feel as though his soul was being laid bare.
The reason was simple: his cultivation was only at Mortal Realm, First Stage, while the other was Mortal Realm, Fourth Stage!
"Baldy, give him the stone," the lean man said calmly.
"Lord Zhou, but—"
"Don't talk nonsense."
The bald man trembled under the man's gaze, then hurriedly tossed a lower-grade spirit stone to Su Zhan.
"Th-thank you, Lord Zhou!"
Su Zhan was stunned, but quickly bowed in gratitude.
The lean man said nothing more, just took another sip of wine and closed his eyes again.
Outside, a massive line stretched for miles, filled with people just like Su Zhan—dressed in rags, faces exhausted.
There were youths, middle-aged men, the elderly… numbering in the thousands.
Every one of them was at least at the Mortal Realm, First Stage. Without that, they couldn't even break through rock to mine spirit stones, let alone collect the daily quota of one hundred mixed stones.
Some stared blankly, eyes clouded with despair.
Some were excited, anticipating their share of spirit stones.
Most exchanged small talk, laughing bitterly to distract themselves from their misery.
But Su Zhan's thoughts were far different.
"I hope this time… there's really a chance to leave this hellhole!"
He lifted his right hand.
In his palm, a mysterious black imprint glowed faintly, resembling ancient, indecipherable characters.
It hadn't been there originally. Two days ago, while mining, he had accidentally cut his hand. Blood seeped out—and to his shock, the blood was absorbed into his palm!
Then, this strange mark had appeared.
Su Zhan immediately thought of the systems and golden fingers from countless fantasy novels he had read before.
But when he eagerly tried to communicate with it, there was no response. No matter what he did, it remained silent.
Helpless, he put it aside.
Until yesterday, when his reward spirit stone was mysteriously devoured by the black imprint!
It glowed brilliantly, illuminating his shocked yet hopeful face… before falling silent again once the stone was consumed.
No matter how he experimented, nothing happened.
Still, it gave him one clue: as long as he fed it pure spirit stones, something might happen. Mixed stones, however, had no effect.
It was… picky.
Yesterday, he had fed it one stone. No result.
Today, thanks only to Lord Zhou, he had received another.
"But after tonight, my gold will be gone. Should I… keep the spirit stone instead of feeding it?"
Su Zhan hesitated.
The mining camp was exploitative beyond belief.
Outside, one hundred mixed stones could be exchanged for ten pure stones. Here, the rate was one hundred for just one.
Outside, a single pure spirit stone could fetch a hundred gold, enough to feed a family of five for life.
Here, it was only worth ten.
And food was outrageously priced—a single bowl of noodles cost five gold, dishes went for dozens or even hundreds.
As a newcomer forced here less than a month ago, Su Zhan could barely survive.
He had been living off savings, but by tonight they would be gone. Unless he sold his stone for gold, he'd be starving by tomorrow.
"To hell with it. Let me starve!"
Grinding his teeth, Su Zhan chose recklessly.
He hurried back to his so-called "dormitory"—a rickety, drafty shack. After confirming no one was around, he placed the spirit stone in his right palm.
At once, the stone dissolved, and the black imprint flared with light.
Su Zhan stared unblinking, afraid to miss even the slightest change.
But when the stone was completely absorbed, the imprint dimmed once again.
"Three pure stones already… still no reaction? Don't tell me it needs ten. Or a hundred?"
He cursed inwardly. "If that's the case, I'd have to stay in this hell for half a year or more!"
But this wasn't just anywhere. This was a mine where people dropped dead every day—starved, beaten, overworked, or executed on a whim.
Life was as cheap as grass.
If he stayed here for half a year, he'd likely die before the imprint awakened.
"All transmigrators get cheats, yet mine's this pathetic…"
He sighed bitterly. "No choice. I'll eat first. Tomorrow, I'll see if I can borrow some food."
Just as he turned around—
A black figure was standing silently in front of him.
"What the—!"
His scalp tingled, his face went pale, terror overwhelming him.
He had been discovered!
When did this person arrive? How had he not sensed it at all?!
If the imprint was exposed, his fate would be worse than death!
A thousand dreadful thoughts surged through his mind.
But then—
"Huh?"
Something was off.
That black figure… wasn't wearing pants? No, wait—it was faint, almost illusory.
Su Zhan raised his head, and his breath caught.
It was a black phantom, identical in height and build to himself, as if molded from his own image.
No flesh. No hair. No features. Just a shadowy humanoid outline.
"What… what is this?"
Cold sweat dripped from his forehead as he staggered back.
The faceless phantom somehow made him feel as though it was staring at him.
Suddenly—
A strange, mechanical tone echoed in his mind.
Su Zhan froze, his expression shifting from shock to horror to utter disbelief.
He shouldn't have understood it. But instinctively, he did.
The message was clear.
"Master."