Davis followed alongside the Handsome Giant Consortium with leisurely steps, his long white hair swaying behind him like drifting silk. The mildly intimidating crow mask covering the upper half of his face only added to the strange aura he carried. Combined with the black sect-like robe bearing the mark ’Dragon’, he looked every bit like a hidden expert’s eccentric descendant wandering the world out of boredom.

The streets of the Eighth Bastion City’s inner city were bustling.

Massive transport constructs hovered above the ground while magical beasts dragged luxurious carriages through the wide roads. Cultivators of every walk traversed the streets, from armored mercenaries soaked in blood aura to refined alchemists whose robes smelled of medicinal fragrance. The market noise rose endlessly like crashing tides.

Yet wherever the handsome fatty walked, the crowd instinctively gave way.

Davis liked this feeling very much. As long as no one disturbed him, they wouldn’t need to die.

"Move, move. The Handsome Giant Consortium is collecting this week’s shares."

One shopkeeper hurriedly bowed and brought out a storage ring with both hands trembling.

The handsome fatty grinned widely and accepted it with practiced ease.

"You’ve worked hard."

The shopkeeper laughed awkwardly, not daring to complain.

Davis tilted his head and looked at the business sign. It was an armor shop, the stuff only wealthy cultivators can afford, since in every fight, their armor keeps getting torn before they could even realize.

Certainly, the armor shop would be raking in crystals in this Desolate Era far more than others since there would be many more fights to engage.

Still, Davis asked, "Haha, is this how your consortium earns wealth?"

"Hur, hur. We’re not extorting them." The handsome fatty rolled his eyes, "This district belongs to us. We maintain order, remove troublemakers, keep rogue cultivators from doing business, and provide information like I gave information to you. In return, these stores pay tributes. If they don’t, I don’t mind looking the other way when they get in trouble."

"Fair enough." Davis nodded, "I have no problem with it. Let me collect protection fees too."

He walked to a different store and raised his hand, beckoning him.

The handsome fatty was speechless. This dude really doesn’t treat him as a stranger. It seems like this mood of his right now wants to have fun.

"You haven’t even joined my Handsome Giant Consortium, but you already want a share, huh?"

He laughed boisterously and gestured for the shopkeeper to give him the share.

Davis caught the spatial ring and saw that the amount of crystals was very low for him, but it was a considerable amount for those who trade day to day in an attempt to keep their life afloat. Nowadays, he was well aware that the price of crystals was increasing and the exchange rate was getting skewed. The war was also a factor, but the major factor was none other than the desolate air, which rapidly slowed down the formation of energy crystals and other types of energy resources.

For this reason, it should be beneficial for him if he were to let this desolate era continue, since he could get wealthier.

However, his intention was to never get wealthy but to be wealthier in terms of health and cultivation. For that, the desolate air needs to go no matter what. Otherwise, he would be hard-pressed to increase his cultivation, much less the others.

It must be known that, although he was only a Level Three Empyrean, even Mid-Level Exalt Grade resources would be hard-pressed to allow him to increase his cultivation. That was how overpowered he was.

Back in the Elemental Dimension, they had only managed to collect around 140 High-Level Exalt Grade resources. Of them, some have already been consumed or gifted as rewards, leaving them with 120 High-Level Exalt Grade resources.

However, none of these resources interested Davis.

He was only interested in resources that have chaos, death, life, and destruction attributes. Even normal lightning, fire, and wind would not satisfy him, but only end up diluting the concentration of his dense and destructive energies.

At the higher stages, he risked the problem of losing his prowess.

Obtaining these kinds of treasures was easier said than done. Even the Elemental Dimension didn’t have them lying around everywhere, much less somewhere. Hence, the treasures the Davis Family possessed were better left to be used by his wives and other capable people. It increased their overall strength and allowed them to protect themselves.

As for himself, he was fine with devouring soul essences, quintessence orbs, and his women.

The only problem was that digesting Quintessence Orbs took too long because they were incredibly dense. He would have better chances to increase his cultivation with soul essences instead, and not end up wasting time.

The Handsome Giant Consortium continued to take protection fees while the others behind them laughed.

Hermit Blackflame Pillar and the others smirked faintly, thinking that their choice to join this consortium was right since they traveled unchallenged, even by the guards.

In an apocalypse-ridden era where beast tides and dimensional cracks appeared frequently, cities no longer functioned under idealistic systems. Every major district was controlled by powers capable of protecting it.

Without protection, businesses would be devoured overnight.

As they walked, the handsome fatty casually conversed with merchants and hardcore cultivators alike. Surprisingly, he seemed genuinely informed about nearly everything happening within the city.

A brothel owner whispered about a Primarch being assassinated early morning.

A forgemaster complained about soaring ore prices since people didn’t travel to the mountains or underground mines on the edge of the realm and regions anymore.

An information broker nervously spoke about the war.

The handsome fatty absorbed all of it naturally while occasionally giving instructions to his subordinates.

Davis quietly observed.

This man’s true value wasn’t his cultivation or wealth. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

It was information.

He possessed a frighteningly efficient intelligence network for just walking about. Everyone seemed to come in order to pass him some information and get paid well.

Eventually, the conversation drifted toward a topic repeated almost everywhere they went.

One information broker said with excitement, "Have you heard? Saint Riyal Mendez healed a bloodline with a bloodline curse earlier this morning, and he exited the Ninth Bastion City, most likely making his way here. Right now, the guards have rushed to receive him, and a lot of people have gone to see his glorious appearance."

"Whoa, really?" The others asked.

"What kind of bloodline curse?" Davis suddenly asked.

"The kind curse users are well versed in." The information broker quickly replied.

"..." Davis sighed disappointedly.

Of course, just because Saint Riyal Mendez found a technique to break biology and natural balance, he shouldn’t expect him to create a Divine Technique for destroying bloodline curses. However, he did wish Saint Riyal Mendez could create something like that, so he could steal it and develop a technique to get rid of Nadia’s racial curse completely.

"And then..." The information broker didn’t think too much of Davis and looked at the handsome fatty hesitantly, "Is it true that you have offended the Saint’s entourage?"

Suddenly, the atmosphere turned strange as everyone turned to look at the handsome fatty.

"..."

The handsome fatty simply shrugged, "I didn’t offend the Saint, but just a loser. He is none other than Thousand Windblades."

"Thousand Windblades? That Thousand Windblades!?"

Everyone was shocked, while Davis nearly had the urge to whistle. He found this fatty to his liking. However, the atmosphere seemed to have gradually turned strange.

Hermit Blackflame Pillar and the others looked somewhat different.

From the changes in their expression alone, Davis could tell that they thought of wanting to leave the Handsome Giant Consortium. Collecting tributes and strutting around their weight was all good, but offending a big shot’s subordinate?

Now, that was going to cost them dearly.

"Yo!"

Suddenly, a white-robed person who was leaning on the wall of a building called out to them.

He was only an Autarch, but his expression as he raised his head to look at them carried a wide smile.

"Thousand Windblades sends his regards along with the Saint, respected handsome fatty."

"..."

The handsome fatty’s eyes narrowed while the expressions of the others changed.