The crowd scrambled to peddle their tired old pitches to the gaunt young man, their voices overlapping in a desperate clamor.
"Don't you mope, young man! Come to my eatery for a hearty meal, on the house! All I ask is a little photo with you—just a snap!"
"Food won't chase your blues away! A person's life ain't nothing without the right partner! My daughter just graduated high school—young, pretty, kind and obedient! She's set her heart on you, swears she'll only marry you! Won't you go meet her?"
"Pay no mind to him, boy! Sticking with one woman for life is boring as hell! Come to my place—I've got women of all ages, teens to thirties, take your pick! Guarantee you a night you won't forget! If mature ladies are your type, I can keep you company myself!"
They swarmed him, jostling and shoving, their faces twisted with a fevered, desperate eagerness. Hands flailed wildly, pushing the crowd back in a bid to claim the prime spot right in front of him, the one that might catch his eye.
Ordinary folk all, they shouted themselves hoarse at the young man in his cold-resistant gear, each clinging to the same dream: to turn their fortunes around, and hoping this Sequence Ability user was their ticket. Spittle flew, and a glob of foul saliva hit Qin Siyang's cheek, leaving a rancid taint. It mixed with the thick, unshakable reek of sweat in the air, making his skin crawl.
But their frantic pleas were all for naught.
The gaunt young man shot them a cold, unimpressed glance, said not a single word, and strode off. The crowd's shouts died down to urgent mumbles, but they still instinctively scrambled to clear a path for him.
Only when his figure faded into the distance did they fall silent, their faces crestfallen—before their gazes all snapped back to the safe zone exit, ready to pounce on the next chance that came their way…
Moments after the young man left the exit, a seventeen or eighteen-year-old boy burst through the throng packed tight around him, a raging bull in human form, cutting through the crowd with effortless strength. Under the stunned stares of the onlookers, he slipped away and trailed after the young man.
Once Qin Siyang confirmed the gaunt youth was heading down the main road, he ducked into a corner and hastily altered his clothes, desperate to avoid being recognized.
"You're a [Thief] Sequence, and a protégé of the Administration Bureau brass. If you're not the one who took my coin, then I guess I'm just out of luck."
It took only a moment for him to finish, and he was hot on the young man's heels once more.
Qin Siyang cut a ridiculous figure now. To hide his appearance from the man he was tailing, he'd pulled his jacket and pants on inside out, drawing curious and wary stares from passersby.
"Mom, that big brother looks like he's not all there!"
"Shhh! Keep your voice down! Stay far away from crazy people like that, understand?!"
Qin Siyang paid no mind to the pointing fingers and whispered comments. His only target was the gaunt young man just ahead.
Seemingly hearing the whispers, the young man paused and glanced back at Qin Siyang. But he did not recognize him—not even a flicker of recognition crossed his face. He merely sized Qin Siyang up with a sneer, then turned and kept walking.
The two figures moved down the main road, one before the other, in utter silence. Dim streetlights cast their glow on them in turn, their light washing over the silent pair as if illuminating a story no one cared to hear.
Pedestrians thinned out as they walked, until at the mouth of a quiet, desolate alley, only the two of them remained.
Qin Siyang stayed right on the young man's heels.
Even the slowest mind would have sensed something off by now.
The gaunt young man slowed his steps, expecting the boy behind him to walk past. But Qin Siyang maintained his pace, his stride steady, giving no hint of ill intent.
The young man glanced back again, noting Qin Siyang's youthful face—seventeen, eighteen at most, a high school student or a recent graduate, a naive kid who'd seen nothing of the world. He posed no threat at all.
The young man chided himself for his paranoia.
"I must be on edge from all the god-hunting. Getting jumpy over nothing."
"Need to relax a little."
He stopped beneath a streetlight, pulled a cigarette pack from his pocket, tapped out a cigarette, and clamped it between his lips. Deftly, he reached into another pocket for a match, shielded the flame with the pack to block the wind, and struck it alight—only for the streetlight above him to suddenly go dark.
The young man looked up.
The boy with the student's face, the one who'd tailed him all the way here, was standing in front of him, staring at him with a bright, wide smile.
"Let it be you," Qin Siyang said.
Alarm blared in the young man's mind. He opened his mouth to react, but a dark blur streaked past him in the blink of an eye.
A split second later, his chest erupted with agony—as if he'd been hit by a speeding truck. His body flew backward, uncontrollable, into the shadowed alley behind him.
*Crash! Clatter!*
He slammed into a row of metal trash cans, sending garbage spilling across the ground in a foul heap.
Qin Siyang planted his feet and stood tall, glancing left and right to confirm the street was empty before striding into the alley toward the young man.
Garbage covered the young man from head to toe, his orange-and-white cold-resistant gear soaked in filthy sewage, but he didn't care. He clutched his chest with both hands, grimacing in excruciating pain, and stared at Qin Siyang with terror in his eyes. "W-who are you?!"
Qin Siyang said nothing. He raised his fist and slammed it into the young man's jaw.
The young man's head snapped back, his skull slamming against his brain with a sickening crack. A wave of violent vertigo washed over him, and he blacked out completely.
Qin Siyang dragged the unconscious youth out of the garbage pile and frisked him thoroughly, finding nothing of note. His gaze fell to the black backpack slung over the young man's shoulder—the kind unique to god-hunting squad members.
He unzipped it. Inside were more than a dozen small, zippered compartments. Qin Siyang felt around, his fingers brushing against something solid in a few of them.
In one compartment was a glass vial filled with a pale cyan liquid. Qin Siyang picked it up and examined it; the label read *Sequence Potion – Exclusive to the Sequence Ability Administration Bureau*.
"So this is what a Sequence Potion looks like," he muttered.
He twisted off the cap and took a whiff. A sweet, fragrant aroma wafted out—though mixed with the putrid stench of garbage, it was far more nauseating than pleasant.
He screwed the cap back on and slipped the vial into his own pocket.
He knew from his research on the Godslayer Camp forum just how precious Sequence Potions were to Sequence Ability users. This single vial would be more than enough to make the young man do his bidding.
*Correction*, he thought. Not make him do it—*invite* him to help with a few small favors.
Qin Siyang unzipped the other compartments, finding a cell phone, a handful of copper coins, and a single silver coin.
He powered off the phone and slipped it into his pocket too. A luxury item worth thousands of copper coins—it would come in handy for sure.
He picked up the silver coin and examined it closely. This one was not the one he'd hidden under the tile.
"The coin I left was minted at Li's Mint. This one's from Henry's Mint. Did I get the wrong guy?"
He searched the backpack and the young man's pockets from top to bottom, but the missing coin was nowhere to be found.
Puzzled, he ran his hand along the bottom of the backpack. It felt uneven, something hard digging into his palm.
He studied the bag for a long moment, finally spotting it—a hidden compartment tucked beneath the other pockets, nearly invisible, its stitching seamless. If he hadn't had the time to search thoroughly, he would have missed it entirely.
He unzipped the secret pocket. Inside were a handful of dirt clods—and a single silver coin.
Qin Siyang pulled it out, his eyes falling on the bold characters embossed on the side: *Li's Mint*. He glanced down at the unconscious young man at his feet, and a sinister grin spread across his face.
"They say boys who smile a lot have all the luck," he said.