Feng Lin and Liang finally passed through the city's great gates. As soon as they entered, a muffled tumult reached their ears—distant shouts and explosions. The air vibrated with the impact of cultivation techniques, and in the distance, columns of smoke rose into the sky.

  But contrary to what one might expect, the city was not in chaos. The main streets were deserted, but no one was truly panicking. Seasoned cultivators went about their business, barely troubled by the ongoing attack on the Zhao clan. Only mortals and the weakest chose to stay away from trouble.

  Feng Lin remained on guard. He knew that here, he was nothing more than an insect in the eyes of true powerhouses. Even as he stood tall and maintained a confident air, the slightest mistake could cost him dearly. He glanced at Liang, who walked slightly behind him, more tense than ever.

  — Young Master, Liang murmured, look around us… The city is more tense than usual.

  Feng Lin swept his gaze over the surroundings. The buildings, though sturdy, bore the marks of past battles—cracked walls, collapsed roofs, dark stains in certain alleys, silent witnesses to recent executions. From time to time, a curled-up body could be seen in the shadows, left behind after some settling of scores.

  As they approached a guard post, a man in worn armor lazily blocked their path.

  — Entry fee, one copper coin per head.

  Feng Lin raised an eyebrow but did not protest. This world operated solely on the exchange of power or money. He calmly handed over the two required coins, and the guards let them pass without a word.

  The shouts and explosions still echoed behind them, but no one seemed truly concerned. A group of merchants stood nearby, casually watching the smoke.

  — Hmph, the Zhao clan was too arrogant. It was time they faced the consequences of their actions, one of them said with a sneer.

  — Yes, but they won’t fall so easily, another replied with a shrug.

  Feng Lin remained silent, observing the city stretching out before him—a ruthless world where only the strong dictated their fate.

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  Feng Lin and Liang ventured deeper into the city, moving through streets heavy with tension. Though the inhabitants didn’t appear particularly alarmed, a quiet vigilance hung in the air. Merchants continued selling their goods under worn-out awnings, passersby avoided dark alleys, and some cultivators stood at intersections, scanning the horizon warily.

  Feng Lin paused briefly to take in his surroundings. He noticed several establishments, including a large inn with a faded sign and an herbalist’s shop emitting a faint medicinal scent. Further ahead, a forge sparked, a sign that an artisan was at work.

  — Liang, where is the main market? he asked.

  — It’s a little further, Young Master, toward the city center. You can find anything there—weapons, pills, cultivation resources… But it’s also closely watched by the influential factions.

  Feng Lin nodded silently. He had no intention of drawing unnecessary attention. His goal was simple: acquire resources without being noticed.

  As they walked, a commotion caught their attention. An arrogant-looking cultivator shoved an old man aside, knocking over his fruit stall.

  — Hmph, another weakling taking up too much space, the man sneered before walking away without a second glance.

  The old man lowered his head and began gathering his scattered fruit in silence. No one helped him.

  Feng Lin observed the scene without intervening. He understood more than ever the harsh reality of this world: here, strength dictated everything.

  — Young Master, should we hurry? Liang murmured.

  — No. Let’s take our time and observe.

  Feng Lin wanted to learn more about this city before making a move. He knew he was just a small fish for now… but that wouldn’t last forever.

  Feng Lin continued advancing slowly through the city streets, scrutinizing every detail carefully. Unlike Liang, who seemed nervous and eager to finish this outing, he took his time analyzing his environment.

  The market stalls became more frequent around them, offering a variety of goods: crude weapons, dubious-quality medicinal potions, and a few precious materials for cultivation. The atmosphere was noisy, merchants and buyers negotiating fiercely, yet always under a latent tension.

  — Liang, where are the most valuable resources sold?

  — There are some specialized shops, Young Master, but they are owned by clans or merchants affiliated with the major factions. Those without strong connections aren’t welcome there…

  Feng Lin immediately understood the message. Entering those establishments without backing would be a waste of time—or worse, dangerous.

  — Hmph, then where should we go?

  — There are traveling merchants who sometimes sell good things. But you have to be careful—some deal in counterfeits or stolen materials…

  Feng Lin narrowed his eyes. Even if the best resources were out of his reach for now, he still needed to obtain some useful items for his journey.

  As they walked, a commotion drew their attention at the entrance of a large square. Shouts rang out as a group of cultivators armed with spears surrounded a bloodied man, pinning him to the ground.

  — Traitor! You thought you could steal from us and get away alive?

  The man on the ground spat blood and let out a bitter laugh.

  — It was just a little spirit ore… are you really willing to kill for so little?

  — The value doesn’t matter—a thief deserves death!

  With a swift motion, one of the men thrust his spear down, piercing the wounded man's body. Silence fell for a moment before the crowd dispersed, returning to their business as if nothing had happened.

  Liang lowered his head, clenching his fists.

  — That’s how this city works, Young Master. A man’s life is worth little here…

  Feng Lin, however, remained impassive. He hadn’t come to change the world—only to take advantage of it.

  — Let’s go. We need to find something useful and leave this place before we attract attention.