I Arrived At Wizard World While Cultivating Immortality

Chapter 640: Watching the Shop and the Official Spirit Medium Association

Jie Ming closed the suitcase and pushed it into the corner.

He turned around, walked to the workbench, opened the cloth bundle containing the materials, and poured the several gray-white fragments onto the surface.

The fragments reflected faint light under the lamp. The fine, fractal-like patterns on their surfaces were clearly visible.

Hazard Grade Strange fragments.

He had new research materials again.

During this period, Jie Ming’s cooperation with the black-market brokers had gradually improved.

One could even say that the other party carried out his various requests with considerable diligence.

This did not surprise Jie Ming. From the moment he first encountered the brokers, he had already formed this idea.

Those who could operate as black-market brokers basically had countless connections.

Making them disappear abruptly would definitely attract attention.

Simply displaying power, even with contractual restrictions, would make it difficult to motivate them to collect intelligence and materials with such full effort.

Of course, Jie Ming also had the option of sneaking in without alerting anyone.

In the end, however, he chose another approach: sufficient strength combined with sufficient benefits to stimulate the other party’s maximum subjective initiative.

Those who could work as black-market brokers in the underground scene were all smart people. Jie Ming liked dealing with smart people the most, because smart people’s actions would align with expectations.

The benefits brought by optimizing gene drugs, along with the strength he had previously demonstrated, were enough to make these black-market brokers make the correct choice.

Having black-market brokers help collect intelligence effectively compensated for Jie Ming’s inability to gather information at night.

As for collecting various Strange materials, it required special channels. It would not have been easy for Jie Ming to gather so many on his own.

Optimizing gene drugs was not an issue for Jie Ming.

With his skills, not only could he increase the success rate by five percent—he could even raise the success rate of these prohibited drugs to 100% without much difficulty.

However, doing so would be far too conspicuous.

What surprised Jie Ming somewhat was that these gene drugs also contained various different Strange powers, making them quite valuable for research.

“These so-called prohibited drugs are actually mostly byproducts from incomplete utilization of Strange powers. To me, the research value of these various prohibited drugs is no less than that of the Strange fragments themselves.”

Jie Ming thought for a moment but did not rush to accept the next commission.

There was no urgent task this time, and he was not short on time…

The next morning, as soon as Eric walked out of his apartment building, he saw Jie Ming standing at the door of the used bookstore, holding a newspaper and looking up at the gray sky.

His posture did not look like he was checking the weather, but rather observing something ordinary people could not see.

“Morning,” Eric greeted and habitually started walking toward the factory.

“Eric,” Jie Ming called out to him.

Eric stopped and turned around.

Jie Ming rarely called him first, which surprised him.

“Are you free tomorrow?” 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

Eric thought for a moment.

Tomorrow was a rest day. The factory was shut down for maintenance, and he had planned to sleep all day at home. “I’m free. Why?”

“Help me watch the shop for a day.”

Eric was stunned for a second, then subconsciously glanced back at the used bookstore.

Watch the shop?

That used bookstore that usually did not even have a ghost visiting?

“You’re going out?” he asked.

“Mhm.” Jie Ming folded the newspaper and tucked it under his arm. “I have to attend a lecture tomorrow.”

“A lecture?” Eric’s expression became subtle.

In his impression, someone like Jie Ming who ran a black clinic had nothing to do with the word “lecture.”

“It’s organized by the Official Spirit Medium Association,” Jie Ming said in a flat tone, as if mentioning that tomorrow’s weather would be nice. “A public lecture on common Strange protection knowledge.”

Eric opened his mouth, momentarily at a loss for words.

He knew about the Official Spirit Medium Association’s public lectures. After all, the newspapers published related information every month.

On the surface, the public lectures seemed like free events, but they were actually formal activities held at the municipal hall auditorium or the exhibition center. Most attendees were middle-class citizens, government employees, or people with money and leisure who wanted to learn about Stranges.

A black-market doctor running a used bookstore in the old district was actually going to attend such a lecture?

He looked Jie Ming up and down.

Jie Ming’s clothes for tomorrow were no different from usual—a dark coat, old leather boots, and his hair barely tidied.

He did not look like someone who could attend any formal event at all.

“You really are carefree,” Eric could not help remarking.

Jie Ming did not respond. He simply looked at him, waiting for an answer.

“Alright, I’ll watch the shop for you for a day.” Eric nodded, then remembered something else. “But your shop usually doesn’t have any customers, right? I can just sit there?”

“Tomorrow someone is coming to install electrical wiring,” Jie Ming said. “Keep an eye on them and make sure they don’t damage anything.”

Eric wanted to say something more, but Jie Ming had already turned and walked back into the bookstore.

The wooden door closed behind him, leaving only the “Used Bookstore” wooden sign on the doorframe swaying gently in the morning breeze.

Eric stood on the stone-slab road, stared at the closed wooden door for a few seconds, then shook his head and headed toward the factory.

The next morning, Eric arrived at the used bookstore on time.

Jie Ming was already waiting at the door.

He had changed into a dark gray coat today, which looked slightly more formal than usual, but only “slightly.”

“By the way, are you sure you want to go to the lecture dressed like that? I feel like those people will definitely laugh at you…” Eric could not help reminding him.

“Here’s the key.” Jie Ming handed over a copper key. “The door downstairs, the door upstairs—don’t open the basement door. The electricians will probably arrive around nine in the morning. Tell them to run exposed wiring and not chisel randomly into the walls.”

“Got it.” Eric took the key and hesitated for a moment. “Um… don’t open the basement door. What’s inside?”

Jie Ming glanced at him.

The look was calm, without any hint of threat, but Eric immediately shut his mouth.

“I won’t open it, I won’t open anything.”

Jie Ming nodded, picked up a small bag, and walked onto the street.

His pace was neither fast nor slow. He soon became a blurry shadow in the thick fog, then disappeared completely.

Eric pushed open the door of the used bookstore and walked inside.

The oil lamp was still lit, its flame flickering gently in the morning breeze.

He glanced at the rocking chair but did not sit in it. Instead, he moved a wooden stool from beside the bookshelf and sat down at the entrance.

There were not many people on the street.

At this time, those who needed to work had already gone to work, and those who could sleep were still sleeping.

Occasionally one or two pedestrians passed by. When they saw him sitting at the door, they only glanced over before hurrying past.

Eric leaned against the doorframe, gazing at the gray sky, and suddenly felt as if he were dreaming.

A maintenance worker from a factory was actually helping a black-market doctor watch his shop.

And that black-market doctor had gone to attend a lecture organized by the Official Spirit Medium Association.

This world was becoming increasingly incomprehensible.

At the same moment, in the central district of Mist Capital, at the headquarters building of the Official Spirit Medium Association.

It was a gray-white stone building. The reliefs on the exterior walls were carved with various Strange totems and protective runes.

Above the main entrance hung the Association’s emblem: an open palm with a single open eye in the center.

It symbolized “seeing through Stranges and protecting all living beings.”

Inside the building, on the second floor in an office, two staff members wearing dark blue uniforms sat at their respective desks, handling mountains of documents.

The younger one was about twenty-five or twenty-six, with some lingering youthful energy on his face.

The older one was in his early forties, with deep crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes and mostly gray hair at his temples.

The younger one was named Dirk. He had been employed for just over two years and mainly handled external liaison work.

The older one was named Harding. He had worked at the Association for nearly twenty years and now handled paperwork in the office, essentially in semi-retirement.

“There’s a new wanted notice.” Dirk pulled a sheet of paper from the document tray, glanced at it, and casually tossed it aside. “The wilderness bandit gang has been wiped out. A few core members escaped. Three men and one woman, one of them a Spirit Medium. According to the assessment, they seem to be heading in our direction.”

Harding did not even raise his head. “Matters from the wilderness are not under our jurisdiction. Let the security forces deal with the headache.”

Dirk glanced again at the photos on the wanted notice—three men and one woman, with blurry faces taken from far away, apparently captured from some surveillance device.

He stuffed the wanted notice into the box labeled “External” and ignored it.

“There’s one more thing.” Dirk pulled out another document. “Reports of missing persons in the city have increased again recently. Third Street, Seventh Street, the harbor district… At least dozens of people have disappeared in the past half month. The security forces suspect it might be a new Strange.”

Harding finally raised his head, took the document, flipped through it, and frowned.

“Do the times, locations, and identities of the missing persons have anything in common?”

“Most disappeared at night, but two vanished during the day. The identities are varied—workers, vendors, and even a merchant from a nearby town.” Dirk sighed. “The security forces couldn’t find any leads, so they forwarded the report to us.”

Harding put down the document and rubbed his temples.

“It’s happening again. We just finished dealing with that Hazard Grade one last month, and now there’s a new one this month. When will this job ever end?”

Dirk sighed along with him but said nothing.

They were both veterans and knew that complaining was useless.

Stranges could not be completely eradicated. The city was too large and the population too numerous. Something would always slip through the cracks.

“Put it aside for now,” Harding pushed the document to the corner of the desk. “When the field agents have time, have them investigate.”

Dirk nodded and continued going through the documents in the tray.

Then he came across a thin sheet of paper.

It was not an official document, but a newspaper clipping pinned with a paperclip to the cover of an internal intelligence report.

Dirk picked up the clipping, read two lines, and raised his eyebrows slightly.

“Old Harding, take a look at this.”

Harding took the clipping and read it aloud.

“…Recently, a special gene drug has appeared in the underground black market. It is rumored that its success rate is approximately five percent higher than the theoretical value. The drug is currently circulating only in a very small range. Its source is unknown and its authenticity remains to be verified. The Association reminds all citizens not to trust black-market rumors lightly. Any gene drugs that have not been officially certified carry significant safety risks…”

After reading it, Harding put down the clipping and exchanged a glance with Dirk.

“Five percent.” Dirk repeated the number. “It doesn’t sound like much, but if it’s true, that would be extraordinary.”

Harding remained silent for a few seconds.

He had worked for twenty years and had seen too many black-market scams.

Some people packaged ordinary stimulants as “gene drugs” to sell at high prices. Some used Strange fragments to fool those who wanted power but did not dare take official routes. Others simply took the money and disappeared.

“Most likely a scam,” Harding said. “You know how those people in the black market operate.”

“But what if it isn’t?” Dirk countered. “If someone can really optimize the success rate of gene drugs, that’s no small matter. Even our Association only has a few people capable of such technology.”

Harding did not answer immediately.

He picked up the clipping again and read it once more.

“Success rate five percent higher than the theoretical value,” he said slowly. “Indeed, this number is quite subtle. If it were much higher—say twenty or thirty percent—it would be obvious as fake. But five percent… not too much, not too little, just within the ‘possible’ range.”

“So?”

“No rush. Let’s observe for now,” Harding placed the clipping back on the desk. “Wait one month. If by then there are still no negative reports, no one has had issues after using the drug, no buyers have complained, and no one has died… then it’s most likely real.”

“Why?”

“Because the people who go to the black market aren’t fools. They buy the drugs to survive, not to die. For non-official prohibited drugs, a five percent increase in success rate is already a significant improvement. It’s easy for people to feel the difference.”

“If this drug is fake or problematic, it won’t take long for people to cause trouble. No news after a month is the best news.”

Dirk nodded thoughtfully.

Harding leaned back in his chair, his gaze falling on the gray sky outside the window.

“If it really is real…” he said in a low voice, “then we’ll have to take it seriously. Whoever can optimize gene drugs—whether an individual or an organization—is worth investigating thoroughly.”

The office fell silent for a few seconds.

Outside the window, Mist Capital’s sky was as gray-white as always.

Dirk clipped the newspaper cutting back into the document tray and continued handling the next file.

Harding lowered his head again and began writing a weekly report on recent Strange activity trends.

Meanwhile, Jie Ming, who had just boarded a public bus and was squeezed among a crowd heading toward the exhibition center, suddenly smiled.

“The bait has been cast…”