Chapter 12 Target: Laji Mountain

It took half an hour of messaging before Zhang Chu finally understood what Lili Huang meant by “scavenging.”

“So scavenging means picking up things left behind by the dead!”

Centuries ago, after the resurgence of spiritual energy, human cities began to reinforce their defenses. The aim was to prevent mutated beasts from entering human territories and causing harm. Even both sides of the main highways between cities were lined with high-powered electric fences.

As humans discovered their blood energy potential and began to awaken as martial artists, hunting these beasts became the primary path for their advancement. The cores of high-level beasts were extremely valuable—sometimes worth as much as a villa in the city center. The beasts’ hides, teeth, and blood could all serve as raw materials for various strengthening elixirs.

This fundamental practice gave rise to a new profession in human society: the contractor. Employers would fund expeditions for teams to enter beast-infested areas and hunt them down.

Scavenging outside the city, as Lili Huang described it, involved bold individuals searching the routes where mercenary squads had met misfortune. Along these paths, one could often find valuable spoils.

For martial artists, scavenging was beneath them—something to scoff at. But for ordinary people, it was a potential path to wealth. According to Lili, just last year someone found a core from a level-two beast during a scavenging run and used it to buy a villa in the heart of Binzhou’s CBD.

Of course, scavenging carried risks. After all, these were places where beasts roamed, so one always had to be cautious.

“Handsome, are you interested? Sign-ups close at midnight, and we head out at noon tomorrow,” Lili prompted when Zhang Chu didn’t reply for a long while.

“I’m in. Send me the location tomorrow and I’ll find you,” he answered.

Fortune favors the bold, not the timid. That’s how the world worked. Besides, they weren’t heading directly into the beast forest. The places already scouted by mercenaries were unlikely to have any beasts left. All in all, it seemed safe enough to be worth a try.

“Don’t forget to charge your wheelchair and bring a spare battery,” Lili replied. As soon as she sent the message, she heard Wen Zhan Huang’s voice coming from the study. She paused to listen.

Her usually gentle grandfather had been particularly irritable these past two days, seemingly searching for some genius.

...

Early the next morning, Zhang Chu went straight to the Martial Artists’ Center. As was his habit, he took a hundred vitamin pills along the way. With yesterday’s blood-energy elixir and five hundred vitamin pills, his blood energy had already reached 181.1.

“Ding! Detected 100 vitamin pills consumed. Blood energy increased by 1.”

Zhang Chu glanced at the energy panel: 182.1.

Just then, his ride stopped at the Center’s entrance.

He went upstairs as usual. Zhou Chuanxiong was, as always, having tofu pudding for breakfast. Seemingly expecting Zhang Chu, Zhou handed him a prepared breakfast.

Yesterday, Zhou had earned a twelve-hundred yuan commission and splurged on a night out at a KTV with some company.

“Brother Zhou, same as usual—five matches,” Zhang Chu said.

He entered Virtual Hunting Ground No. 1. Zhou hurried to the forum to sell tickets. Within ten minutes, the viewing area on the eleventh floor was filled with university students.

Today, Zhang Chu was facing the Trihorn Rhino again. After five matches, he earned a tearful profit of sixteen thousand yuan. Adding yesterday’s earnings, he now had about fifty-one thousand yuan.

“Brother, not up for another five?” Zhou was surprised to see Zhang Chu finish so early.

“Brother Zhou, I’m heading out of the city today,” Zhang Chu replied.

“Brother, it’s dangerous out there. Go check out the equipment section on the eighth floor. Get yourself some gear.” Zhou was actually a bit envious. For ordinary people in Binzhou, getting permission to leave the city required a lot of paperwork and advance applications—a safety regulation set by law. But martial artists were different. As long as you reached Level 1, you could come and go freely with your martial artist card and even bring one ordinary person along.

“Thanks for the reminder, Brother Zhou.” After three days, they’d gotten familiar with each other.

Leaving the virtual hunting grounds, Zhang Chu headed to the eighth floor. Security in the equipment section was tight; you had to scan your martial artist card to enter. After scanning and passing security, Zhang Chu reached the electronics sales area—mostly tablets.

He logged into his account and browsed the equipment section. The variety of gear available to Level 1 martial artists was dazzling, with nearly a thousand types of armor alone, though all were pricey. Even with discounts, the cheapest started at fifty thousand—enough to drain all his funds.

“Damn, I’m getting poorer and poorer. No matter how much I earn, it can’t keep up with my spending,” Zhang Chu calculated. A full set—helmet, armor, gloves, boots—would cost at least a hundred and eighty thousand, more than the traditional dowry for a bride in his previous life. And the kicker was, this gear was practically disposable. Take the Level 1 Lesser Frostsilk Armor, for instance—priced at forty-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine, and it could only withstand a single full-power blow from a Level 1 lesser beast.

“Lili said we’re just scavenging, so it shouldn’t be a big deal,” Zhang Chu thought. After some consideration, he decided he wouldn’t need a helmet or armor. In the end, he chose gloves. Scavenging was a lowly business, but if the scattered beast cores or fur were toxic, a pair of gloves would at least prevent infection. More importantly, the martial technique he was practicing, “Soaring Cannon,” was a set of fist techniques.

With his mind made up, Zhang Chu quickly selected a pair of Level 1 Lesser “Blacksteel Gloves,” authenticated his purchase via facial scan, and watched thirty-five thousand vanish from his account in seconds.

Soon, a staff member delivered the brand-new gloves to the waiting area.

He tried them on. They didn’t seem all that special. Just then, he received a message from Lili, urging him to hurry to the North Gate for assembly.

...

After catching a cab to the North Gate, he saw a girl in a pink tracksuit, knee and wrist guards in place, pacing around. All her gear was Level 1 Lesser. If Zhang Chu hadn’t seen her at the Martial Artists’ Home before, he wouldn’t have believed anyone could make a living scalping tickets.

“You can stand now?” Lili noticed someone behind her, turned, and saw Zhang Chu. Last time, he’d been in a wheelchair, looking down and out. Now he stood before her, posture straight, stylish haircut, lean face, and—above all—long legs. She couldn’t help but give him a few more glances.

“Just the two of us?” Zhang Chu looked around to be sure.

“Scavenging is always done in pairs. It’s not exactly an honorable business.” Lili said, “Since you can walk now, I’ll take a smaller cut—just ten percent.”

She’d been prepared to push him around. Seeing him stand brought her relief.

As for why she chose him—it was partly because no one else had agreed, and partly because she felt Zhang Chu seemed honest and reliable.

“Don’t talk. Just follow me,” Lili instructed, leading Zhang Chu smoothly to the gate security office. She handed over a black permit; the guard snapped to attention, saluted, and let them through respectfully.

“Don’t ask questions. This card belongs to my grandfather. Otherwise, I couldn’t bring you out. I stole it,” she said, seeing Zhang Chu frown.

Did I ask? Zhang Chu was only curious about the cardholder’s identity, not how she’d gotten it. Ordinary people who could leave the city with such a permit were anything but ordinary.

Still, since Lili had the connections, he put his martial artist card away.

What amazed him even more was that outside the gate, a jeep was waiting for them, and the guard personally handed Lili the keys. Even Level 2 martial artists might not get this treatment.

Zhang Chu was now certain—Lili’s grandfather was no ordinary figure.

“Where to?” Zhang Chu asked calmly, buckling his seatbelt in the passenger seat.

“Just got the latest update: that mercenary squad’s last known location was twenty kilometers northeast of the beast forest, at Highland 008 on Mount Laji,” Lili said, projecting the map from her phone onto the car’s display. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered.”

With a step on the gas, she sped them toward Highland 008.