The strongest intermediary in all realms

As Zhou Ming emerged from the silver-gray corridor, he was startled by the scene in the office before he could even stand properly.

Gulu had been released from the system space ahead of schedule and was currently sunbathing on the windowsill, its tail swishing against the glass. This wouldn't have been a problem in itself, but the issue was that someone was squatting next to it—Chen Jianguo, who was carefully breaking a fried dough stick he bought from a breakfast stall into pieces and feeding it to Gulu's mouth.

"Brother Zhou, you're back!" Old Chen grinned when he saw him. "Your little rascal was hungry. I was thinking of feeding him something, but he sniffed the fried dough sticks and wouldn't eat them. I then broke off a piece of steamed bun, but he still wouldn't eat that."

Zhou Ming went over and scooped Gulu out of the water. The little guy let out a pitiful "squeak" and rubbed his head against Zhou Ming's palm.

"It eats light flavors, not fried dough sticks." Zhou Ming was both amused and exasperated. "What brings you here?"

Chen Jianguo pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to him: "You asked me to find out more about Sihaitong Company. Yesterday, I asked around the electromechanical market, and a truck driver named Huang Laosan told me something."

Zhou Ming took the note and glanced at it. A few lines of writing were scrawled on it:

"Huang Laosan said that Sihaitong's warehouse receives 'special goods' every month on the night of the 15th. He recounted an incident where he passed by late at night and saw men in black carrying several large wooden crates from a truck; the crates had strange patterns carved on them. He glanced at them and was then yelled at and chased away. Huang Laosan also mentioned that Sihaitong is currently recruiting 'security personnel,' offering double the market rate, but requiring them to sign a confidentiality agreement."

Zhou Ming read the note over and over again, focusing on "the 15th of every month" and "a wooden box with engraved patterns".

What's the date today?

Chen Jianguo scrolled through his phone: "Number 13."

The day after tomorrow is the 15th.

"Old Chen, you've been a huge help." Zhou Ming carefully put away the note. "Can you still contact that Huang Laosan?"

"Yes, he drives a truck across from the market. I can call him anytime."

"No need to call him, don't alarm him yet," Zhou Ming patted Old Chen on the shoulder. "When we get back, tell Huang Laosan to stay away from the Sihaitong area for a while. Safety first."

Chen Jianguo nodded: "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing." He got up to leave, then glanced back at Gulu, who was sunbathing on the windowsill. "What kind of thing are you raising?"

"Salamander."

"Why are newts transparent?"

"Mutant variety."

Chen Jianguo muttered, "What you're up to is really weird," waved his hand, and left.

After closing the office door, Zhou Ming sat down at the desk and placed the note under the calendar.

On the night of the 15th, a wooden crate with engraved patterns was found. If these were supplies brought from another world by the Cleaners, the patterns on the crate would most likely be some kind of seal or boundary marker.

If we could get clear photos of the textures, we might be able to deduce which dimension they sourced the goods from.

He needed to get close to Sihaitong that night.

"Shall we scout the location the night after tomorrow?" Xiao Qi asked.

"Go. But this time we need to be fully prepared." Zhou Ming opened the drawer and rummaged through it. There weren't many belongings left: a protective jade pendant, two attack talismans, a low-grade spirit stone, half a bag of silver coins and two low-grade pills that he had exchanged for from Xu Ling's medicine business.

All the odds and ends add up to about sixty points in general.

"Is this enough?"

Xiao Qi assessed, "It's enough to buy a 'Short-Term Invisibility Talisman,' which lasts for fifteen minutes and halves your movement speed. Once inside the Sihaitong Courtyard, if you remain invisible the entire time, the chance of being discovered is very low, but time is limited. You need to find the target pattern and take a picture within fifteen minutes."

"I bought it."

With the invisibility talisman in his pocket, Zhou Ming reset his remaining universal points to zero. The margin for error in the operation the night after tomorrow was extremely low—one chance to become invisible, a quarter-hour time limit, and his low-level Qi Refining seventh stage disguised as a stronghold that might be guarded by a Foundation Establishment expert. But he had no better option.

Intelligence waits for no one; if we miss the window of opportunity on the 15th, we'll have to wait another month.

For the next two days, he did nothing but rest and recharge. On the third day, he stayed at his usual spot, delivered a small order, and answered a consultation call.

On the surface, he remained calm, but in his mind, he was repeatedly rehearsing every step of the nighttime operation.

On the evening of the 15th, just as it was getting dark, Zhou Ming went out carrying a small crossbody bag.

The bag contained a mobile phone (for taking pictures), an invisibility talisman, two attack talismans (just in case), and a small roll of fluorescent tape (in case I need to mark the location).

He hailed a hovercraft and positioned it in front of a convenience store two streets away from Sihaitong.

After getting off the bus, he approached on foot and found a blind spot in the wall behind Sihaitong before it got completely dark—a surveillance blind spot, which he had confirmed during his last reconnaissance.

Night fell. A few lights came on in the courtyard inside the wall. The curtains on the second-floor windows remained tightly closed, but a sliver of light shone through the roller shutter door of the first-floor warehouse.

It was nearly 8 p.m. when Zhou Ming leaned against the shadows outside the wall, his palms pressed against the edge of the brick wall, waiting quietly.

At 8:15, the gate rang, and a black van without license plates slowly drove in.

Zhou Ming saw through a gap in the wall that a truck was parked at the warehouse entrance, the rear door of the truck was open, and two figures dressed in black began to unload the goods.

The wooden crates, as Huang Laosan was right, were carried down one after another, a total of five, and piled up at the warehouse entrance.

Zhou Ming took a deep breath and activated the invisibility talisman with a flick of his fingers.

A barely perceptible ripple covered his entire body, like ripples spreading across the surface of water. He looked down at his hands—though he could still see them, the feeling of being watched had vanished.

He tiptoed along the wall to the small door on the side of the warehouse, which was unlocked and ajar. He squeezed through.

The warehouse is much larger inside than it appears from the outside, with a ceiling height of five or six meters and neatly arranged shelves.

The wooden crates had already been moved into an open space deep inside the warehouse, lined up in a row of five. He quickly approached and squatted down next to the first crate.

The box was painted with dark brown paint and was indeed engraved with intricate patterns—symbols he had never seen before, with winding curves interwoven into a net-like pattern and a circular indentation in the center.

He took out his phone, dimmed the screen brightness, and snapped a few pictures of the texture. Just to be on the safe side, he took four pictures from different angles.

After taking pictures of the fifth box, he was about to get up and leave when a hidden door deep inside the warehouse suddenly opened.

A person walked out from the hidden door.

Zhou Ming stood frozen in place, not daring to move. The man was wearing a black robe, his face hidden in the shadow of the hood, so his features were not visible.

But that aura—he could still feel it even through the disguise talisman—pressed down heavily, like a cold stone slab on his chest. His Qi Refining Level 7 disguise was as thin as paper in front of this person.

This refers to people at or above the Foundation Establishment stage.

The man in black robes walked to the wooden crates and squatted down. He reached out and touched the texture on the surface of one of the crates, then whispered something. Zhou Ming, who was closer, vaguely caught a few words: "...This time the quantity is enough. The passage to Plane Twelve can hold for two more times."

Then the man in black robes stood up, turned around, and went back through the hidden door, which closed behind him.

With about two minutes left of the invisibility talisman's effect, Zhou Ming quickly exited the warehouse, retraced his steps through the small door, climbed over the blind spot in the wall, and ran all the way to the convenience store two streets away.

He stopped under the lights at the entrance of the convenience store before daring to breathe heavily.

The sweat on my back had soaked through two layers of clothing.

"...Planet Twelve." He whispered to the air, "They have a fixed supply source. Can you use this number to find out which world it corresponds to?"

Xiao Qi's voice was tense: "The system has a partial map of plane numbers. I've done a preliminary search on the world corresponding to number twelve—it's a 'medium-level magical plane,' with magic, orcs, and dragons. If they're using that plane to transport resources to Blue Star, it means the Cleaners have already established a stable mining or resource collection channel in that plane."

Zhou Ming leaned against the wall of the convenience store for a while to catch his breath. He looked down at the photos of the box's surface texture he had taken on his phone. The photos were quite clear, capturing every turn of the symbols.

He plans to go back and input these patterns into the system for in-depth comparison, which might allow him to deduce the specific types of goods they were transporting.

Tonight's harvest was greater than expected. He not only photographed the patterns on the box surface, but also heard the crucial information of "plane twelve," as well as the black-robed man's words, "the passage can only last for two more times"—meaning that their supply line has a limited number of uses and is not a permanent passage.

If he could figure out what would happen to the passage after "holding it up twice," he might be able to find a way to cut off their logistics.

He put away his phone and hailed a motorcycle taxi.

As the hovercar took off, he looked back towards the west of the city. Sihaitong's courtyard stood silently in the night, like a black knot.

But he had already pried open a corner of that nodule.