The strongest intermediary in all realms

For the next three days, Zhou Ming lived a strange dual life.

During the day, he stayed in his office, sorting out and archiving the fragments of information he had brought back from the ruins of Shenxiao.

Xiaoqi was in charge of the technical data deconstruction, and he was responsible for translating the obscure cultivation terminology into popular "mediator language"—this translation ability had already been honed to perfection during his three years as a product manager in his previous life.

At night or in the early morning, he would carry his backpack and venture into the rift zone to "do business" with the rogue cultivators who were hiding in the interlayers.

By the fourth time he crossed the rift zone, he was already familiar with the route. The silver-gray passage tore open in the center of the office. Zhou Ming stepped in, and when he came out, he was standing at the entrance of the canyon shrouded in pale purple mist.

He had been smelling the mixture of ozone and soil in the air for three days, and now he actually felt a little familiar with it.

"What's your target for today?" he asked as he walked forward.

Xiao Qi's voice drifted from the system, carrying a slight static: "You currently have 320 Universal Points. You need to gather 180 more to buy a Disguise Charm. If you sell everything you brought today, you can conservatively exchange it for 120-150 points. One more trip should be enough."

Zhou Ming patted his backpack, which contained newly replenished "supplies"—he bought thirty plastic keychains, five highlighters, two rolls of colored tape, and a bag of rainbow candies from a two-dollar store on the street.

These things are worthless on Earth, but three days ago, when he traded his first pack of ballpoint pens for a "Fire Talisman," the rogue cultivator was so excited he almost rolled on the spot.

He has figured out the core logic of cross-dimensional trade: scarcity determines value, and information asymmetry determines profit.

After walking for about two miles, the fog gradually thinned, and the view ahead made him pause.

At the end of the fissure zone, an open area appeared, about half the size of a football field, with a flat, bluish-gray stone slab. On the stone slab, some people sat or stood in twos and threes—some wore coarse cloth robes, some wore animal skin cloaks, and there was even a semi-transparent human figure floating in mid-air, its features indistinct, like a solidified ball of moonlight.

Besides them, there were several people with blue faces, carrying backpacks similar to Zhou Ming's, who spread out a cloth on the roadside and set up stalls. Their stalls displayed items such as lighters, binoculars, compressed biscuits, and power banks.

"A trading point in the rift zone?" Zhou Ming asked in a low voice.

"Yes, these mezzanine spaces, because they connect multiple planes, are often used as trading hubs by independent cultivators and small vendors," Xiao Qi explained. "But they're not very large. There are a dozen or so open-air markets like this in the Rift Zone. The route you took before was unorthodox; today you stumbled into a proper 'market area.'"

Zhou Ming's eyes lit up. This was much more efficient than fighting alone—chatting with his peers might allow him to find out the needs and market conditions in other dimensions.

He walked over to a stall with a blue-faced man and squatted down. The stall owner was a man in his forties with dark skin and calloused hands. He had a row of lighters and stainless steel thermos cups on display.

"Which line are you on, bro?" The middle-aged man looked up and sized Zhou Ming up, speaking familiarly, "Your backpack looks bulging, how many trips have you made?"

"Only the fourth time." Zhou Ming put his backpack on the ground, took out a plastic keychain and placed it on the stone slab. "Mainly running the rift zone between Shen Diao and Qing Xiao. What about you?"

"I run the fantasy world route." The middle-aged man, with an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, said, "There are many high-level cultivators there, but they have high standards. They look down on ordinary daily necessities. I smuggle some 'energy drinks' and 'self-heating hot pots' over there, exchange them for low-level pills, and then sell them to martial arts disciples on Earth. One trip can last me half a month."

Zhou Ming nodded thoughtfully. The demand structure of each dimension is different, and his supply strategy also needs to be refined. The martial arts dimension likes novel daily necessities, the immortal martial arts dimension values ​​"otherworldly information" and "visual wonders" more, while the fantasy dimension that the uncle mentioned is obviously more interested in Earth's convenient food.

"Uncle, have you ever heard of the 'Purgers'?" Zhou Ming asked casually.

The middle-aged man's smile froze for a moment, then he lowered his voice: "Brother, you're new to this, right? Don't use that term in the Rift Zone. I've been doing this for two years, and I've seen three groups of people get into trouble for asking about this. I don't know the specifics, but anyway—don't ask what you shouldn't ask, your life is your own."

Zhou Ming tactfully changed the subject. He laid out his keychain and highlighter on the stone slab; the colorful plastic stood out unexpectedly in the pale purple mist. Less than half an hour later, a girl in an animal skin cloak squatted down in front of his stall, staring at the highlighter for a long time.

"Why does this thing glow?" She poked the transparent barrel of the highlighter with her finger.

Zhou Ming unscrewed the pen cap and drew a line on the white paper. The bright fluorescent yellow stood out starkly against the grayish crack. The girl exclaimed "Wow!" and reached out to take it.

"What will you give in exchange?" Zhou Ming asked with a smile, blocking her hand.

The girl unfastened a jade pendant from her waist and handed it over: "A low-level protective talisman, capable of blocking one attack from a Qi Refining stage cultivator."

Zhou Ming took the jade pendant and weighed it in his hand. Xiao Qi quickly scanned it in the system and gave an estimate: "Medium quality, approximately 30 universal points. A good deal."

Transaction.

The girl in animal skin happily walked away, clutching the highlighter. Zhou Ming put away the jade token and continued setting up his stall. Within two hours, he had exchanged a bag of rainbow candies (for a Qi and Blood Pill), a roll of colored tape (for a talisman for finding lost items), and twenty plastic keychains (for three low-grade spirit stones). His backpack was more than half empty, and his universal points balance on the system panel jumped to 430.

I'm 70 points away from buying the Disguise Charm.

He was pondering whether to make another trip to the Condor Heroes world to get some local specialties to exchange when a commotion suddenly arose at the other end of the market. The crowd dispersed, and a man dressed in black sleek clothing strode over. He had a dimensional locator at his waist and a large sword slung over his back; his aura was completely out of place among the other rogue cultivators around him.

Zhou Ming recognized the outfit—it was exactly the same as the black market time traveler group he had encountered in the Shenxiao Ruins three days ago.

He lowered his head discreetly, pretending to adjust the straps of his backpack.

The man in black walked straight to an open space in the center of the market, pulled out a folded sheet of paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and shouted, "Has anyone seen this sword? Dark green scabbard, intricate patterns, it came to Earth during the Republic of China era. A reward of one hundred low-grade spirit stones will be given to anyone who provides a clue."

Zhou Ming caught a glimpse of the drawing out of the corner of his eye—it was a sketch of the Green Wave Sword.

His heart skipped a beat.

This group of people tracked the Green Wave Sword all the way to the Rift. They copied fragments of the brand from the Shenxiao Ruins, but failed to obtain complete inheritance information. Now they want to fill in the gaps in the clues through the clumsy method of "finding people." If they continue their investigation, they will eventually find Lin Xiaowan.

We cannot allow them to continue expanding their search area.

Zhou Ming's mind raced. His instincts as a real estate agent told him that sometimes the fastest way to solve a problem is to "buy" it. He stood up, picked up his backpack, and walked up to the man in black.

"Brother," he said with a fawning, merchant-like smile, "I have a stall over there. That dark green sword you mentioned... I think I vaguely remember it."

The man in black's sharp gaze was fixed on his face: "Speak."

"Three days ago, at the entrance to the rift zone in the Condor Heroes world, I encountered an old man in gray clothes," Zhou Ming fabricated, his story sounding quite plausible. "He was carrying a sword with a dark green scabbard; I glanced at it a few times because the pattern was quite unique. He headed northeast, but I don't know exactly which way."

The man in black stared at him for a full five seconds. Then he put away the blueprints, turned around, and walked away expressionlessly. Before leaving, he tossed out five words: "Thanks, here's the spirit stones."

A low-grade spirit stone landed precisely at Zhou Ming's feet.

After the man in black had walked away, Zhou Ming bent down to pick up the spirit stone, his back already soaked with cold sweat. Xiao Qi bombarded him with questions in the system: "You're incredibly bold! What if he asks more questions?"

"Just make it up if they ask," Zhou Ming said, stuffing the spirit stones into his backpack and quickly leaving the market. "The important thing is to make him believe that 'the Green Wave Sword is still circulating near the Rift Zone,' rather than that it has already fallen into someone's hands. As long as they continue their protracted, aimless search, they won't investigate Lin Xiaowan, giving her time."

Xiaoqi was silent for a moment, then said, "How come you're better at lying than telling the truth?"

"A sales champion in my past life." Zhou Ming continued walking, "I learned it."

He walked back through the rift, pale purple mist flowing beside him.

The general points balance on the system panel jumped to 470 thanks to the extra low-grade spirit stone that came in—the purchase threshold for the Disguise Talisman was only 30 points away.

But he wasn't thinking about the disguise symbol right now.

The black market time travelers are tracking down the Green Wave Sword, while the Pursuers lurk in the shadows, and the names of his new ally's parents are on a list of seven missing people.

The water was deeper and colder than he had imagined.

Before entering the silver-gray passage, Zhou Ming glanced back at the direction of the fissure zone.

The purple mist was thick, obscuring everything.

But he knew that next time he came, he wouldn't just be a small vendor.