Dao of Money
Chapter 128: Hunters

Chen Ren’s nose twitched as he took a sniff off the phial filled with shining purple pills. They gave off a faint medicinal smell with a slight hint of bitterness that lingered in the air for long.

He turned the phial in his hand, watching the light catch the engraved patterns on the glass.

Hmm, interesting.

He wasn’t sure about the pills themselves, but whoever had made the container was undoubtedly quite good at their craft. The filigree worked into the stopper, the smooth clarity of the glass, and the balance of the weight—it was the sort of thing one would only expect from a high-end alchemy store.

Setting it down, he reached for another phial when a polite cough from behind caught his attention.

He turned around to find Tang Boming standing near a bald man dressed in the standard grey robes lined with black—Darkmoon Sect colors. Likely an outer disciple picking up extra spirit stones by working here at the alchemy shop.

The man offered a thin smile and stepped forward slightly.

“Esteemed cultivator,” he said smoothly. “You’ve been browsing our selection for nearly an hour without making a purchase. Has nothing caught your eye?” Then, as if sensing his own tone, he added, “If you’d like to share your cultivation realm and what kind of pill you’re after, I’d be happy to assist you more directly.”

Chen Ren almost laughed. The smile was courteous, and he noticed the respectful tone in his voice, but the meaning behind it was clear: buy something or leave.

Still, he didn’t take offense.

Instead, he lifted the phial of purple pills and held it up. “What’s the purity of these?”

The bald man answered immediately, as if the number had been drilled into his skull. “Thirty to forty percent, esteemed one. One of our more affordable batches. Modest, but effective.”

Chen Ren nodded slowly, his eyes still focused on the pills.

“What about the ingredients?” Chen Ren asked, turning the phial slowly in his fingers. “Are any of them harmful to someone with a lightning-aligned spirit root?”

The bald man’s smile didn’t waver. “I’m afraid I can’t disclose the exact ingredients, esteemed cultivator But I can assure you, our pills are formulated for general use. Safe for cultivators of all aspected spirit roots—fire, water, lightning, and the rest.”

Chen Ren hummed thoughtfully, but didn’t stop there.

He continued his casual interrogation—asking how old the pills were, where they were made, what purity ranges they typically stocked, and whether they had any better-quality versions tucked away for refined customers.

To his credit, the bald man answered each question without faltering. And to his surprise, the bald man’s tone remained courteous throughout, his smile unfailing. Chen Ren could tell the man had either been given proper customer training or was just naturally good with people.

Probably training, Chen Ren guessed. There was tension behind the man’s smile, barely masked irritation in his eyes. He was getting annoyed. And Chen Ren didn’t blame him.

In a world where cultivators could destroy shops over perceived slights, having customer training was necessary. One wrong word, and a stray fireball or sword qi could level the front desk.

Finally, as Chen Ren set the phial back on the display, the bald man clasped his hands behind his back and asked, “So, will you be purchasing this batch of Iron Marrow Pills, or should I bring out something with better purity?”

Chen Ren turned slightly, meeting his eyes with a casual smile.

“Actually,” he said, “I was just curious about the Iron Marrow Pills. I might come back for them if I decide to go hunting insectoids outside the city.”

He clapped the man lightly on the shoulder in thanks, already turning to leave. “But for now, thanks for answering all my questions.”

That should’ve been it. But the man’s control finally cracked.

“You wasted so much of my time and aren’t buying anything?” he snapped, his voice sharp enough to draw glances from across the shop. “I could’ve made an actual sale with someone else in the time you spent poking around!” His face twisted with frustration. “Buy the pills or I will—”

He froze. Chen Ren hadn’t moved much. Just turned his head. But the subtle shift of qi that leaked out from his dantian and charged like a brewing storm was enough to silence the room.

The bald man’s voice died in his throat.

Clearly, the flare of qi reminded the man who he was speaking to. Afterall, the disciple was just a body forging realm cultivator.

Chen Ren, on the other hand, was much stronger.

The instant his qi flared, the bald man’s expression changed. His eyes widened slightly, and a cold bead of sweat rolled down his temple. He gulped, realizing—too late—that Chen Ren wasn’t just another broke cultivator loitering around with empty pockets.

He’d misjudged badly.

“You should think before speaking,” Chen Ren said quietly and sized him up. “Might serve you better.”

Then, without another glance, he turned and strode out of the store, Tang Boming following a few steps behind.

The streets outside welcomed them with sharp wind and passing footsteps. Chen Ren just continued walking down the stone-paved road, eyes flicking between the people, the storefronts, and the distant banners fluttering under the morning sun.

Tang Boming had to half-jog to keep pace.

“That’s the third pill shop you’ve been to,” he said between breaths. “You’re going to end up in a duel at this rate, poking around without buying anything.”

“I am thinking of buying. Eventually. I’m just not going to waste spirit stones unless I know what I’m buying is worth it. Some of them are already selling garbage dressed up in fancy bottles.”

He paused and rubbed his hands together.

“Either way, they need to work on their staff. They're trained, sure, but not well enough. Polite until you say 'no,' then the mask slips.”

“Well, they are cultivators. Even if they’re working in a shop, they’ve got pride. You can't train that out of them.”

Chen Ren gave a short laugh. “Pride? Sure. But pride doesn’t stop a stronger cultivator from trashing your shop.” He shook his head, muttering under his breath. “I was hiding my cultivation level, walking in with you who didn't bother hiding cultivation… and that guy still couldn’t hold himself back from acting like a cliche young master.”

Tang Boming glanced at him, brow furrowed. “Cliche what?”

Chen Ren waved it off. “Doesn’t matter.”

His eyes scanned the road ahead—another alchemy shop down the block, this one with a slightly fancier banner.

“At least I can say this,” he added. “Darkmoon Sect’s got a solid customer base. Even on a Tuesday morning, that place was buzzing.”

Tang nodded slowly. “That was their third branch in the city, you know. The smallest, too. They’ve got the biggest market share for a reason,” he said. “It’s not easy to take them down.”

“Fortunately,” Chen Ren replied, “I’m not trying to take them down.”

He smiled faintly, the kind that hinted at ambition coiled just beneath the surface. “I just want a piece of their market. A big enough piece to matter. Once I get a steady stream of spirit stones rolling in, I’ll be able to build businesses that attract cultivators… and don’t face any competition. At least not at first.”

Tang Boming shot him a sideways look, raising a curious brow. “And what kind of business would that be?”

Chen Ren just grinned. “You’ll know when it’s time. Right now, I need to focus on setting up shop here. Did you get the information I asked for?”

“I sent a few of my men out to look into it,” he said. “But I’ll be honest—it’s rough.”

He scratched the side of his jaw. “Any decent alchemist either leaves the city, gets pulled into a clan, or just ends up serving the Darkmoon Sect outright. And the ones that don’t… Well, most of them got screwed over by the Darkmoon sect and just packed up and left.”

“None stayed?”

“A few,” Tang admitted. “But mostly out of pride. Old sect loyalists—alchemists who still wear their broken emblem like a badge and try to build themselves back up. Doesn’t work out. No resources, no backing. They keep trying, but they’re all stuck in place.”

Chen Ren’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Then those are the ones we aim for. Any good among them?”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Tang sighed. “Not really. Most are stubborn to a fault. Cultivators with chips on their shoulders. They’re hard to control—and harder to convince. Worse, they’re afraid to openly go against the Darkmoon sect , even if they hate them. Won’t join the sect, but won’t defy them either.”

He gave Chen Ren a skeptical glance. “And I don’t get why they’d say no to Darkmoon, then turn around and agree to get acquired by you. No offense.”

“None taken,” Chen Ren replied with a shrug. “But them saying no to Darkmoon is exactly why they might say yes to me.”

“Huh?”

“I’m not the one who ruined them. I’m not the reason they lost their sect, their resources, their pride. That alone makes me less of a threat and more of a friend. It’s easier to reach out a hand when you’re not the one who pushed them into the pit.” He paused, then added, “Can you get me full records? Names, affiliations, and the strongest person in each sect or clan, and—most importantly—what caused their downfall. I want to see if there’s anything I can use.”

Tang Boming nodded, slower this time, the gears turning behind his eyes. “I can do that but I’ll say it again—it won’t be easy. Especially since you’re not exactly wealthy… by immortal standards.”

“I know,” Chen Ren replied with a half-grin. “But sometimes words are worth more than spirit stones. And my mouth tends to run well. I know how to use it.”

Tang gave him a long, awkward look, the corner of his mouth twitching as they turned a corner into a busier street. “That… came out strange.”

Before Chen Ren could offer a comeback, a loud voice cut through the street.

“Get out of the way!”

Both of them turned toward the sound.

Up ahead, the crowd began to part, merchants, cultivators, and commoners all stepping aside as a group of men strode confidently through the center of the road. They wore the unmistakable grey robes with black stripes that he had used to seeing in every other street. Their expressions were proud, arrogant even, as if the entire city belonged to them.

Chen Ren narrowed his eyes and muttered, “What’s going on?”

Without waiting for an answer, he stepped forward with Tang Boming following close behind.

Gasps and scattered praise rippled through the watching crowd. A few women clapped softly, and some young cultivators stared with wide eyes as the group passed by. It wasn’t until the tail end of the group passed in front of Chen Ren that he saw the reason behind the spectacle.

One of the Darkmoon disciples at the rear was dragging something large behind him—a creature, long dead, but no less monstrous in death.

It was a mantis-like insect, easily seven feet tall even while slumped forward. Its exoskeleton gleamed pale green under the sunlight, fractured in several places but mostly intact. Serrated claws the length of a man’s arm hung limply from its arms, and two large pincers jutted from its sharp, angular head. Its multifaceted eyes had gone dim, and a long slit across its thorax still oozed blood.

Chen Ren spotted several deep puncture wounds in its chest, alongside neat stab marks—likely from spears or sabers. But the creature hadn’t been hacked apart. Its body was clean, almost preserved.

He tilted his head. “Why the show?”

Tang Boming let out a short breath. “Probably new disciples,” he said. “That’s likely one of an elder’s grandsons up front. Darkmoon sends their newcomers out in hunting parties. It’s part of their training—kill something dangerous, bring it back, and show the sect you’re useful.”

Chen Ren watched silently as the group continued on, the crowd still murmuring in awe. The disciple dragging the beast gave a smug glance to either side, clearly enjoying the attention.

So this was how they built their image—power, presence, and public display.

He wasn’t impressed. But he was definitely taking notes.

Tang Boming exhaled and added, “And when any group manages to hunt an insectoid without damaging its core parts—organs, carapace, glands—they parade it around like this. Makes them feel like heroes. It’s a small custom among the disciples.”

Chen Ren nodded slowly, eyes fixed on the corpse as it was dragged past.

Even from a distance, he could tell: the insectoid had value. Its thick green carapace could be processed into tough, qi-conductive armor, especially for younger cultivators. The organs—particularly the heart sac and nerve nodes—might serve as rare alchemical components. And the blood, dark and viscous, could be distilled for poison resistance or strengthening agents.

He didn’t say anything, but already, his mind was noting quantities, preservation methods, potential market value.

Beside him, Tang Boming continued, “They’re spoiled, most of them. Walk around like the city belongs to them. I’ve only been here a few weeks, but I’ve already seen young Darkmoon disciples stir up trouble in the markets, harass other cultivators, even drive smaller merchants out.”

Chen Ren’s gaze sharpened. “The city lord doesn’t do anything about it?”

Tang gave a humorless chuckle. “You know how it is. The emperor’s always been lenient with the nobles and the sects. He lets them run things how they want, as long as taxes flow and border security holds.”

He glanced around, voice dropping further. “The city lord gives full support to the Darkmoon Sect. He looks the other way when they suppress competition—sometimes even helps them do it.”

Chen Ren frowned at that.

The last thing he needed was a political authority working against him while he was trying to build a business that would eventually challenge a dominant sect.

“So what happens if I clash with them?” he asked. “Would the city lord step in?”

Tang shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not if you play your cards right. Shower him with gifts, keep your relationship clean, and you’ll be fine. Just because he favors Darkmoon doesn’t mean he’ll sabotage you.” He paused, then added, “As long as you’re not disrupting the city or attacking people in broad daylight, I doubt he’d interfere with a healthy competitor. If you come off as stable and profitable, he’ll keep a neutral stance.”

Chen Ren exhaled, tension still lingering in his brow. So… he could move here. But he’d have to walk the line—carefully.

“Good,” Chen Ren muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “One more thing on my plate.”

He turned to Tang Boming. “Get me a meeting with one of the sects that really hate the Darkmoon Sect. Someone desperate, bitter, and aligned enough to be useful to our purposes.”

Tang gave a wary look but didn’t interrupt.

“And while you’re at it,” Chen Ren added, “dig around. See if there’s anything we can use at the negotiation table—debt, past betrayals, internal scandals. I might have to work just to get them to talk to me, but once I’m sitting across from them… I want to have cards in my sleeve.”

Tang nodded slowly. “I can do that. But I’m not making any promises. Getting a meeting with sect leaders isn’t easy. Especially the disgraced ones—they either vanish into isolation or cling even harder to their pride.”

“That’s fine,” Chen Ren said. “I trust you.”

They walked in silence for a few paces, the hum of the city around them filled with calls from vendors, distant cultivator chatter, and the occasional clang of iron from a forge street nearby.

Then Chen Ren reached over and clapped a hand on Tang’s shoulder.

“One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“I want information on the hunting squads that go after the insectoids,” Chen Ren said, voice calm but firm. “Breakdown their costs—pills, gear, mounts, anything they take with them. Then give me the actual profits they make per trip. Not the ones they brag about. The real margins.”

Tang Boming frowned. “You’re planning to start your own hunting team?”

“I don’t know yet,” Chen Ren admitted. “I need to run the numbers first. But it’s a good idea. Outside the city, beyond the borders, only strength matters—and no one has jurisdiction out there. No city lords, no sect pressure. If the profits are as good as I think, it could be a reliable stream of spirit stones.”

He looked ahead, eyes gleaming now with layered ambition. “And I’ve got some other ideas too. Unique ones. If we play this right…”

His smile widened.

“This city will be a gold mine for the Divine Coin Sect to unearth.”

***

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