High Martial: I Use Everything as Swords

Han Feng stared at that patch of ground.

The light of his Spiritual Vision flickered faintly in his pupils.

"This place has been sealed for three years, so the space here is unstable."

"The gravity fields in some areas are distorted, forming traps."

"Demon Beasts aren’t the only things that can kill you here."

Han Feng turned to look at Wang Meng, his voice calm.

Wang Meng swallowed hard.

When he looked at the scenic Floating Island again, the gold rush fever had vanished from his eyes.

All that remained was awe.

"Fuck, this goddamn place is treacherous!"

Wang Meng wiped away his cold sweat, still shaken by the close call.

"If it weren’t for you, I’d probably have been squashed into a human pancake right now!"

"What kind of bullshit trial is this? This is a suicide mission!"

"That’s why the resources are so valuable."

Through Han Feng’s Spiritual Vision, the seemingly flat ground was dotted with deadly gravity traps, each one emitting a unique halo.

They were as conspicuous as streetlights in the dark of night.

"Follow my footprints."

"Take one wrong step, and not even an Immortal can save you."

Han Feng led the way.

His movements were convoluted, making it look as though he were performing some bizarre dance.

This time, Wang Meng was completely obedient.

He kept his eyes glued to Han Feng’s heels, not even daring to breathe too loudly.

「Not long after the two of them had left.」

Five furtive figures emerged from the edge of the dense woods.

It was none other than the Blazing Fire Mercenary Corps.

The burly man in the lead had a terrifyingly dark expression; his blade had yet to be sheathed.

Being chased off at gunpoint by a student—if word of this got out, he’d never be able to show his face in this line of work again.

They hadn’t gone far, just tailed them from a distance.

Their reasoning was simple. The kid’s marksmanship was uncanny, but how many bullets with that kind of power could he possibly have?

Once he ran out of bullets, it would be their time to die!

"Boss, the tracks are still fresh. They just left!"

A skinny man said in a hushed voice, examining the ground.

A muscle in the burly man’s face twitched.

"After them!"

"They’ve got to have more good stuff on them. If we kill them, we’ll make a killing on this trip!"

Just as they were about to move, the skinny man suddenly grunted in surprise.

He hurried into a nearby patch of grass and picked up a dark-looking stone.

"Boss, take a look."

The burly man took it, and after a single glance, his eyelid began to twitch uncontrollably.

"A Tier One Middle Grade Black Crystal Stone?!"

"A piece like this sells for at least four or five hundred Contribution Points on the Black Market!"

"And they just fucking threw it away?!"

"Such wasteful bastards!"

A nearby mercenary stomped his foot in frustration.

"No, that’s not right."

The burly man narrowed his eyes, glancing from the Black Crystal Stone to the freshly dug pit beside it.

"The hole is new."

"They must have just found something better. Their packs were probably full, so they tossed this."

The men looked at each other in bewilderment.

Their packs were full?

Just how loaded did you have to be to toss a Black Crystal Stone aside like garbage?

"Boss, so... are we..."

The skinny mercenary licked his chapped lips, his eyes shining with greed.

"We follow them!"

The burly man stuffed the Black Crystal Stone into his shirt and let out a cold sneer.

"There’s something off about those two. They find treasure like they’re using a hack!"

"But there’s only two of them. With only four hands, how much can they possibly carry?"

"We’ll just follow along behind them!"

"We’ll pick up whatever they toss!"

"Once it gets dark, they’ll have to rest, won’t they?"

The burly man made a throat-slitting gesture, the thick flesh of his face quivering.

"No matter how badass that piece-of-shit gun is, it’s not like they can stay awake twenty-four hours a day, right?"

"The moment they let their guard down, them and their loot—it’ll all be ours!"

"You’re brilliant, Boss!"

"The boss is incredible!"

His underlings’ faces lit up with smiles as they laid the flattery on thick.

The group stopped hiding, simply following the trail Han Feng left behind and acting as the "cleanup crew."

And surprisingly, their haul was quite substantial.

They dug up the Spirit Grass that Han Feng had marked but not harvested.

They collected the ores that Han Feng had casually tossed aside.

These five men treated the "trash" that Han Feng and Wang Meng had looked down on as priceless treasures.

The more they collected, the more shocked they became.

’Are these two really fucking students?’

’They’re clearly two walking, talking treasure-detecting machines!’

Before long, all five of their packs were bulging, too.

「A mile or so away.」

Han Feng stood atop a dead tree dozens of meters tall.

He had just leaped up from below, his body as light as a weightless feather.

He activated his Spiritual Vision, a look of great interest on his face as he gazed behind him.

At the edge of his vision, five furtive specks of light were gleefully stuffing the pieces of Fire Copper Ore he had just discarded into their packs.

The burly leader’s face was even crinkled into a wide grin.

"Heh..."

The corner of Han Feng’s mouth curled into a smirk.

At the foot of the tree, Wang Meng was keeping a nervous watch.

When he saw Han Feng land, he quickly asked.

"Demon Beasts?"

"No Demon Beasts."

Han Feng brushed the bark from his clothes, his tone as carefree as if they were on a stroll in the park.

"However, our ’logistics and transport corps’ has caught up."

"Logistics and transport corps?"

Wang Meng froze for a second before it dawned on him.

"Those sons of bitches still dare to follow us?!"

His face flushed as he grabbed his axe, ready to turn back and fight.

"Do they really think we’re pushovers?"

"Fengzi, don’t stop me! Let’s set an ambush and finish them off!"

"What’s the rush?"

Han Feng grabbed him, his eyes filled with cunning.

"Killing them is so boring."

He pointed to Wang Meng’s nearly bursting pack.

"Look at us. We can’t even carry everything we find. It’s such a waste."

"Since those guys love picking up scraps, let them."

"The more they carry, the less work it is for us when we go to collect our delivery, right?"

Wang Meng blinked.

He thought he understood.

And yet, he didn’t seem to fully understand.

"You mean... we fatten them up for the slaughter?"

"’Slaughter?’ Such an ugly word."

Han Feng corrected him.

"It’s called resource recycling."

"Think about it. This Secret Realm is dangerous, there are only two of us, and we’re short on muscle to carry everything."

"Now, some people have volunteered to be our free labor, helping us pack up all the ’garbage’ we’ve thrown away."

"Once they’re done packing, we can just go and ’sign’ for the delivery."

"How perfect is that?"

Wang Meng looked at Han Feng’s deceptively innocent face and felt a chill run down his spine.

’This kid... his heart is fucking black!’

’He’s working them like donkeys, and in the end, he plans on taking the donkeys and their cargo!’

"But... what if they ambush us? That leader is at the Meridian Passage Realm Third Layer. He’s tough."

Wang Meng was still a little unnerved.

"Don’t worry."

Han Feng grinned, looking like a fox that had just found the henhouse.

"Greed is the best leash."

"In their eyes, we’re the geese that lay the golden eggs."

"Killing us would be like killing their personal god of wealth."

"Until they’ve squeezed us dry, they’ll be more diligent than any bodyguard."

"Besides..."

Han Feng’s hand gently patted the "Sand Python" pistol at his waist as a bone-chilling light flashed in his eyes.

’Do they really think I only have one bullet?’

’If it really comes to a fight, I have plenty of ways to make them regret they were ever born with two legs.’