The International Building. Zhang Yuanqing entered the spacious, luxurious office under the guidance of Anne, with her golden hair and blue eyes. Already waiting in the living room on the brown leather sofa was Bill Tarantino, who had been there for some time. Today he wore a black shirt with the buttons at the sleeves and collar undone, holding a glass of wine in his hand—a relaxed, comfortable look. "Oh, my friend, it's wonderful to see you again," Bill said, showing a warmth quite different from their last meeting. He set down his glass, warmly welcomed Zhang, and embraced him warmly. He then guided the major client to sit on the sofa, his tone friendly and inquisitive. "Would you like something to drink?" "A cola!" Zhang replied. Bill was momentarily taken aback and quickly turned to the female assistant, "Anne, go get one." In fact, cola didn't need to be ordered—many white-collar employees at the company, being a foreign-invested enterprise, regularly drank cola, and the refrigerated unit in the lounge was stocked with full cases of it. Annie returned a box of canned Coca-Cola, opened it, poured it into a glass cup, and then retrieved an ice tray from the refrigerator, adding a few small ice cubes. "Please, Mr. Zhang," she said, deliberately bending down as she placed the drink on the tea table, so that the young guest could see the smooth, porcelain-like contours of her body. Being in a love-oriented profession is quite demanding—constantly tempting you, making you endure discomfort, yet unable to resist, almost toxic... Zhang Yuanqing longed to dig out his eyes and plunge them into the deep grooves he was trying to measure. Seeing the young man so deeply enchanted by her body, Annie smiled warmly, as if regaining her own confidence in him. "Excuse me!" Bill cleared his throat, and Annie instinctively adjusted her demeanor, standing beside her superior. "Have you made your decision, Mr. Zhang?" Bill Terranino straightened up, crossed his fingers, and looked at him seriously. "I can provide you with detailed information about the pharmaceutical group and explain it thoroughly—it will take approximately thirty minutes." Additionally, I’ve prepared a document that you can review alongside to gain a more detailed and clear understanding of that group. “If there’s no objection, I’ll have Anne prepare the contract—according to last time’s agreement, one million!” Although he hasn’t yet confirmed whether Chen Shu’s son is a Lingjing Voyager, and although the organization has rules preventing it from disclosing Lingjing Voyager secrets to ordinary people, these regulations matter little in the face of one million. Before the pursuit of a hundred percent profit, capital can achieve anything, and for people within the circle, Lingjing Voyager information is hardly a secret at all. It’s an irresistible temptation for any professional in the Void to exchange relatively low-value intelligence for one million in cash and close a polished deal. Zhang Yuanqing crossed his legs, lifted his glass, took a sip of the cold drink, and smiled. "I must admit I'm quite interested in the records of foreign realm-travelers. After all, the only ones I'm familiar with at present are Mr. Bill's profession of the Void, and Ms. Anne's passion for desire." Bill and Anne on the other side were momentarily stunned. He knew all this... He was truly a realm-traveler—not just any traveler, but one with a solid understanding of our professions, far from being a mere novice or untrained wanderer. A few seconds later, Bill recovered from his surprise and said thoughtfully, "So, what exactly brought you to visit today?" He felt a sense of regret and disappointment, as a promising, low-cost, high-return transaction had fallen through. "I did come specifically to transact with Mr. Bill," Zhang Yuanqing said, adjusting his words. "I have a friend who wishes to purchase equipment and materials, but has been unable to find them even after visiting the black market. I remembered that Mr. Bill specializes in the Void profession, so I came to see you today." "Heard that, Bill Tarantino brightened up and a smile returned to his face: 'What do you need? Our Merchant Guild carries a wide variety of equipment and materials. As long as the price is right, you can find anything from the Spirit Realm.' 'A piece of equipment that can conceal your aura, and some high-quality, transcendent-stage Yin materials.' Zhang Yuanqing said, opening his phone to display the list he had prepared during the drive. At the moment he decided to purchase items from Bill Tarantino, he suddenly realized—he might as well take this opportunity to gather the materials needed for crafting Yin corpses. A one-time, comprehensive solution! Bill took the phone, carefully reviewed the materials, and exhaled in relief, smiling, 'We already have all these materials. The total value is about four million. Considering your mother's favor, I'll give you a 10% discount.' " "Then he furrowed his brow, pondering, "Regarding the items that mask one's aura, your requirements are rather modest. Some items possess aura-masking capabilities as a secondary effect, others achieve a similar outcome without directly masking the aura, while some can maintain aura concealment over the long term, and others only offer temporary shielding. Additionally, I need to know your acceptable price range and the desired grade of the items—there's a complete difference between prices at the Transcendent and Sage stages." Zhang Yuanqing mused, "I would like to examine the items thoroughly before making a decision." What he truly sought were items capable of shielding the aura of a Supreme-tier master, though he didn't state it outright, for it would be easily inferred by the other party. After all, a simple review of recent intelligence on Songhai reveals that the Mage-Eyed Emperor has been actively investigating Yuan Shiyi and Zhi Sha's Palace Master. Requesting to see the item attributes first—without making any promises—is somewhat excessive, since such attributes are typically kept confidential. However, he believed Mr. Bill would agree, since the props he was referring to were trade items—inventory stored in the warehouse—rather than the props used by Mr. Bill himself. Indeed, after a moment's reflection, Mr. Bill nodded: "Alright, but I'd like to remind you that if you wish to purchase props using cash, you'll need to have a substantial amount of funds. Besides our merchant guild, most spiritual realm travelers' organizations only accept barter transactions and do not accept cash payments." Props are produced exclusively within the spiritual realm, are scarce, and thus highly valuable. Paper currency, on the other hand, is essentially just waste paper, especially given the severe issue of currency inflation among governments worldwide. As a result, many organizations simply do not accept cash. Even when they do, the prices are often significantly higher, with substantial premiums. Well, are you looking down on me, thinking I'm not wealthy? Fine, I do admit my cash reserves are not vast... Zhang Yuanqing remained composed on the surface: "I understand." Mr. Bill smiled and immediately opened the clan's warehouse, reaching out into the air and grasping a bronze-inlaid box floating in the space. The box was ancient in form, covered with layers of copper patina, its carved patterns exuding a classic, traditional Chinese charm. Mr. Bill explained: "This item I exchanged with the Taimei Gate last year. It originates from a supernatural quest and is a mausoleum makeup box used by a female ghost. When you apply the blood clay from inside the box onto your face, your vital energy transforms into a Yin nature, making you appear similar to spirits and restless corpses—thus protecting you from attacks." The box masks the essence of a living person, causing spirits to perceive you as one of their own; yet, in the eyes of the Mage-Eye King, what matters most is simply that you are a traveler of the spiritual realm—Mr. Zhang Yuanqing shook his head. Seeing this, Mr. Bill returned the makeup box and then produced another item: a worn-out hat, stained and dirty, with severely worn leather, hardly noticeable at all. Mr. Bill warmly introduced: "It's called the Gleaner's Hat, a utility item for the Void occupation. Its functions are treasure-hunting, agility, and concealment—agility and concealment specifically enabling the wearer to move faster and hide better once a treasure is found. The concealment it provides isn't about masking one's presence; rather, it makes the wearer 'invisible,' as if no one notices a street beggar. There have been instances where someone wore it into wealthy homes, private bathrooms, even military bases. Others have worn it to intrude upon strangers, only for the victims to strangely ignore the intrusion. Of course, this effect holds true only for ordinary people. For the spiritual travelers of the realm, once you clearly signal your intent to harm, you'll be immediately detected. The cost of wearing it, however, is an unfortunate streak of misfortune. "A piece of equipment riddled with flaws won't truly mask one's presence—then the Mago-Eye will certainly detect it. Indeed, the Mago-Eye might just spot me at first, only to ignore me the very next moment. But this kind of misfortune isn't working out well—definitely don't wear it on and then turn around to find the Mago-Eye materializing behind me. Zhang Yuanqing mused, "I'd like to take a closer look." The hat could serve as a backup option; if nothing else, purchasing this item would suffice. Mr. Bill, acting like a warm and attentive sales representative, patiently handled the difficult customer, then presented a third item—a thin sheet of human skin. "This is a flawless human skin. When worn, it allows you to assume the appearance of anyone—adopting their personality, habits, manner of speech, and more, so that no flaw will be apparent, even to someone who knows you best," Bill said softly. "It comes with two conditions: first, you must remove it within sixty minutes, or else you will permanently transform into the person you've assumed, and never return to your original self." Secondly, during the transformation period, you will fully accept everything of the target—what you might call cause and effect in your terms. "The previous owner of the target endured its cause and effect during the transformation period and was literally cut to death by the target’s enemies. Its owner before that, in order to gain access to a crime syndicate leader, transformed into a call girl. That night, he was laid upon by twelve men, yet he could not refuse—because accepting cause and effect is mandatory. "That poor man, though he ultimately completed his mission, suffered severe psychological issues as a result." What kind of props are these? They have so many flaws! Their functions are utterly extraordinary—exactly what special agents and spies dream of—yet the price is extremely high. If I were to transform into a woman, wouldn’t I have to become an apple? Zhang Yuanqing said, "Are there any others? Mr. Bill, I need one with a single, focused function—one that comes with a less severe cost." "Functional but rather limited," Bill mused, his eyes lighting up. "Indeed, there's a piece like this I've owned for many years—always kept, never sold." He reached out and pulled out a mask with a black base adorned by a white skeleton head. "This item comes from an evil profession abroad, known as the 'Silent Ones.' Its function is singular: it seals. Once worn, all skills are sealed, leaving the wearer ordinary. "It doesn't provide concealment, but its effect is stronger than most concealment abilities. The cost comes in three parts: first, a transcendental-stage spiritual traveler who wears it loses all their abilities; removing the mask restores the seal. Second, while wearing the mask, the wearer cannot speak. Third, they become drowsy." Zhang Yuanqing's eyes brightened—this one, exactly. Though the cost is threefold, each one is modest and entirely manageable. While the ability to be sealed is a bit troublesome, it can be easily released simply by removing the mask—highly adaptable and not at all inconvenient. "Mr. Bill, how much does this item cost?" he asked. Bill smiled warmly, delightedly responding, "An item at the transcendental stage doesn't exceed ten million. Its function is rather specialized and auxiliary, priced between five hundred thousand and seven million. Considering your mother's favor, I'll go with six million." "Considering my mother's favor, shouldn't it be five million?" "Unfortunately, no. My relationship with your mother is worth no more than one million." "Very well, then—I'll tell my mother that Mr. Bill is a rather plastic companion." Seeing that he couldn't secure a better price, Zhang Yuanqing yielded and asked, "Mr. Bill, I'd like to settle this with a trade of items." "Excellent—that's perfect," Bill Tarantino beamed, rubbing his hands with enthusiasm, looking forward to it. "Shall I have a look at your items?" Zhang Yuanqing grabbed a incense burner from his inventory. The base was bronze with three legs, and the body was a carved black wood frog, seated with its head raised and mouth open wide. He intended to sell this burner. The Tianchan Incense Burner had very strict usage requirements—since receiving it, it had only been used once and had since been gathering dust in his inventory. After gaining Zhang Yuanqing’s approval, Mr. Bill carefully and gently lifted the burner, his expression and posture resembling that of an archaeologist handling a precious artifact. After reviewing the item details repeatedly, Mr. Bill Taronato beamed with delight: "This is a great piece—its drawbacks are clear, but its capabilities are truly impressive. When used at the right time and in the right setting, it can yield returns far exceeding its value." Watching Mr. Bill fondly handling the burner, Zhang Yuanqing had to gently remind him: "Mr. Bill, please don’t remove it from your inventory. Keep it there at all times. You don’t want your tribe to perish because of this, do you?" Bill reluctantly set down the incense burner, regaining his businessman's posture: "I'm offering one million." One million? That's exactly the amount I spent on materials and props—this price suggests the celestial incense burner isn't going to be sold for less than that. Zhang Yuanqing took a deep breath: "Mr. Bill, for the sake of my mother, how about fifteen million?" "Oh, heavens—please don't mention my mother anymore. We're merely ordinary business partners." "Then, Mr. Bill, for the sake of me?" "...?" At this, Anne, who had remained silent throughout, smiled gently: "Mr. Zhang, I believe one million is a fair price. If you agree, I'll invite you to dinner tonight on behalf of Mr. Bill." Her suggestive, intimate gaze seemed to imply that after dinner, she would be his. Faced with the subtle hints and provocations of her profession, Zhang Yuanqing found himself inevitably stirred—not because he was particularly sensual, but because the very nature of her profession was doing the work. In theory, exchanging a beautiful companion to offset the cost was a fair trade; yet, the "desire-driven" profession was simply too demanding. Until they mastered the art of white-listing, any woman in this line of work seemed destined to suffer when touched. The money was counted by Zhang Yuanqing, carefully checking each bill with a cash validator to ensure no counterfeit notes were included. Before leaving, Zhang asked, "Mr. Bill, how long will you stay in China?" "I won't be leaving in the near future," Mr. Bill replied, with a weary smile. The chairman had refused to meet with him, giving the response: "Get out of here!" "Get out of here? Get out of a calf just born? Why would he want to get out of a calf? What does that imply?" Mr. Bill couldn't grasp the chairman's meaning and asked the translator for clarification. The translator immediately covered the characters "calf" with his finger. Mr. Bill suddenly understood—what the chairman meant was not to get out of the calf, but to get out of him. "Very well," Zhang said, expressing great satisfaction with this transaction. "I'll be back to see you again when the opportunity arises." Mr. Bill immediately smiled and said, "I'll escort you down." When Mr. Bill returned to his office, he found Anne, his female assistant, sitting motionless on the sofa, expression呆滞.