What’s that sound?
Wasn’t this market supposed to prohibit killing and fighting? Why are there such piercing screams and cries?
Mo Fan’s brows furrowed slightly. After a moment’s thought, he decided not to meddle. This place seemed safe, but everything appeared to be under the control of the mysterious market master.
“Alas! Truly pitiful!”
Just as Mo Fan was about to head to the Hundred Weapons Pavilion, a familiar voice reached his ears.
Turning, he saw the silver-haired old man in coarse cloth, who had earlier been at the talisman stall, standing beside him once more.
Still by the old man’s side was the red-robed woman, her face veiled in white, her features obscured.
“Senior, do you know what’s happening over there?” Mo Fan asked curiously.
“Of course. In this entire market, probably only newcomers like you are unaware,” the silver-haired old man said, winking at Mo Fan before chuckling, “Little friend, you’re a demon cultivator, aren’t you?”
Mo Fan’s heart tightened, but he replied calmly, “Senior’s eyes are sharp!”
“Since you’re a demon cultivator, I suggest you take a look. Most of those crying are your kin.”
“It’s a pity they don’t have your good fortune. They were captured by human demon hunters and brought to this market for sale.”
“Of course, you could say they brought it on themselves. The human realm isn’t so easy to infiltrate.”
“And I’ve heard these demons are mostly man-eating fiends, deserving of punishment!”
Mo Fan’s brows furrowed again. After a moment, he asked, “Why does Senior want me to go see?”
“Do I want you to?”
“I just noticed your curiosity about it. Since you’re a demon, I thought seeing your kin’s suffering might spark some insight.”
“Alas! Cultivation for our demon race is too difficult. Though we’re naturally gifted, our progress slows. Without reaching Demon General to refine demon qi during a full moon, our path is fraught with hardship, requiring years of endurance.”
“This is where we fall far behind humans, which is why our demon race is now confined to these Hundred Thousand Mountains.”
The silver-haired old man sighed, leaving Mo Fan slightly stunned. Curious, he asked, “Senior, you’re a demon too?”
“‘Demon’ is a derogatory term humans gave us. Our true race is the demon clan. If we speak of ancient history, we predate humans. I prefer to call myself a demon cultivator.”
The silver-haired old man snorted, then waved his hand, saying softly, “Rou’er, let’s go!”
“Yes, Senior!”
After watching the old man and the young woman leave, Mo Fan didn’t act immediately. He stood, pondering the old man’s words.
Clearly, the silver-haired old man was a demon like him, but his words seemed contradictory. What did cultivation’s difficulty have to do with seeing captured demons?
“Still, the senior has a point. Demons may be born with an innate knack for cultivation, but once they reach Demon Soldier Realm, refining demon qi stalls them. If they can’t break through to Demon General before their lifespan ends, they’ll die of old age… Demon qi… Wait… I think I understand something!”
Mo Fan muttered to himself, his eyes suddenly brightening with a trace of shock. He turned to look in the direction the old man had gone, but no trace of them remained.
Was it an illusion?
Or were those two just too fast…
Mo Fan took a deep breath. Clearly, the old man had seen something and was guiding him.
“Man-eating fiends deserve punishment… Is Senior telling me I can learn cultivation methods from these demons?”
“I understand!”
Mo Fan’s gaze calmed, and he walked towards the source of the screams.
It was a large courtyard, bustling with people coming and going. Above the entrance hung a plaque with words Mo Fan couldn’t read.
“Friend, what is this place?” Mo Fan asked, politely grabbing a passerby’s arm.
The man frowned, but seeing Mo Fan’s lack of malice, he replied, “This is the Spirit Beast Court, where man-eating demons caught by demon hunters are sold.”
Without waiting for more questions, he hurried off, clearly unwilling to engage further with Mo Fan.
Spirit Beast Court?
Mo Fan looked up at the three characters on the plaque, memorising them, then walked towards the entrance.
Upon entering, he didn’t see the so-called man-eating demons. Instead, a massive barrier blocked his view. Below it was a counter where a portly shopkeeper warmly greeted guests.
“Friend, what kind of spirit beast are you looking for?” the shopkeeper asked enthusiastically.
“Aren’t these supposed to be man-eating demons? Why call them spirit beasts?” Mo Fan asked, puzzled.
“It seems this is your first time at our Spirit Beast Court! You’re not wrong, we do hold man-eating demons here. But if you choose one, you can buy our beast-control collar to place around their neck. That way, their life and death are in your hands, and they’ll obediently become your spirit beast!”
Leaning closer, the fat shopkeeper whispered with a grin, “Friend, we also have some alluring female demonesses here! Their skills are masterful, and the price is reasonable. Take one home, and, tsk tsk, you’ll experience something extraordinary!”
“…”
Mo Fan was speechless, understanding the shopkeeper’s implication but choosing not to respond. Instead, he said, “I do want to buy some spirit beasts. Can you give me a brief rundown?”
“Some?” The shopkeeper’s eyes gleamed, and he said eagerly, “Alright, let me explain in detail for our esteemed guest…”
After the shopkeeper’s explanation, Mo Fan understood the purchasing rules and demon prices.
The most expensive were two types: beautiful female demonesses and demons with flight abilities, each costing a hundred low-grade spirit stones, with top-tier ones fetching several hundred.
Even Mo Fan swallowed hard, thinking demon trading was a lucrative business.
Other ordinary minor demons were cheaper, ranging from ten to a hundred low-grade spirit stones.
The rules were simple: the Spirit Beast Court had staff to guide selections, and chosen demons could be taken away. If the demons were unruly, beast-control collars could be purchased separately, but they cost thirty low-grade spirit stones each and only worked on minor demons, not Demon Soldiers.
In short, the Spirit Beast Court ran a dual business—selling demons and collars.
Understanding this, Mo Fan inwardly cursed “capitalism” but asked, “Do you have any Demon Soldier Realm demons here?”
The shopkeeper laughed, “Friend, you jest. Demon Soldier Realm demons wield divine abilities and demon arts. They’re not so easily caught.”
“But our Spirit Beast Court occasionally receives Demon Soldier Realm demons. If you need one, I can apply to the higher-ups to ensure you don’t leave empty-handed next time. How’s that?” the shopkeeper smiled.
“Fine, but today I’ll buy some first. Have someone guide me!”
The shopkeeper took out a talisman paper, and with a surge of spiritual energy, it activated, emitting a faint green glow.
He spoke into the talisman, “A valued guest is here. Send someone to guide them, and don’t neglect them!”
“Yes, Manager Zhang!”
As Mo Fan marvelled at the talisman, a refined, tall red-robed woman approached, smiling at him, “Esteemed guest, please follow me!”
“So quick. That talisman must work like a telephone, probably a transmission talisman.”
Mo Fan noted to himself, glancing at the woman’s robe, which matched those of others he’d seen in the market. The Spirit Beast Court must be one of the market master’s enterprises.
With that thought, Mo Fan followed the red-robed woman past the barrier into the courtyard.
