My SSS-Rank Skill and System is too OP in Modern Cultivation world-Chapter 167: Popcorn & Shadow Deals

---

"Yeah. He's grumpy but locked. Level-B guardian in my pocket. I can boss around more people." She cracked a proud grin. "Good insurance, right?"

Jade nodded slowly. "An obedient Level-B summon bound to a Level-D body… unconventional but potent."

Kent clasped Nima's shoulder. "Be careful. He protects you, but if the leash cracks…"

"Not happening," she said, steel in her tone. "I'm master of my kitchen and my demons."

Auri chirped out loud agreement, fluffing his feathers. "Nima you are scary."

The rest of the night passed without incident. At dawn, Kent rose, stretched, and peeked through the shutters. Outside, the town buzzed with twice yesterday's cultivators. Rumor had crystalized into near-certainty: the gate would flare visible by tomorrow evening. People bought rope, chalk, and dried jerky. Small skimmers revved on side streets, ready to sprint the moment wardens allowed traffic or the moment someone found a goat-trail high enough to bypass checkpoints. freewebnøvel.com

Inside the room, Spidey's involuntary toilet shine left the wash-closet smelling faintly of mint and grave-soil. Nima inspected, nodded approval. She rewarded the soul by allowing him one hour of silent meditation in her heart-space instead of menial chores, then threatened with dog-poop feasts again if he slacked.

Kent shook his head, amused and amazed. Of all protections he'd imagined for his sister, a four-eyed demonic janitor had never appeared on the list.

After simple rice porridge breakfast, Jade gathered them around a rough hand-drawn site map. "My noon contact confirms: rift anchor sits on a slope called Star-Wall Basin, west of here eight kilometers. Warden tents already ring the base, but they haven't sealed the ridgeline goat-path." He tapped a dotted line. "We'll hike at dusk, blend with a pilgrim troupe. With luck, we camp within five hundred paces of the anchor by midnight. Opening in twenty-four hours."

Nima punched fist into palm. Auri puffed tiny flames. Kent's blood hummed another ruin, more sigils, the unknown waiting like an unsolved puzzle. And now his sister carried a Level-B bodyguard who doubled as a bathroom janitor.

Outside, temple bells rang late-morning hours. Kent buckled his satchel, checked the jade warning tag, and exchanged a determined nod with Jade.

"Time to disappear into the crowd," he said.

They stepped out of Crane-Wing Hostel, blended with a column of casual cultivators carrying canvas packs and second-hand spears, and began the walk toward Star-Wall Basin, three scholars, one phoenix, and an invisible, thoroughly humiliated demon named Spidey, whose mop-wielding arm still twitched in phantom memory. Two more level-D souls Raka and Lumo.

Dawn mist still clung to Qingshi Crossing when Jade received a phone call. He looked unusually brisk, travel cloak belted tight, skimmer-keys already in hand.

"Change of route," he announced. "A scout slipped me new warden patrol times. Better if you and Nima get a head-start up Star-Wall Basin. I'll secure permits from town hall and catch up by dusk."

Kent frowned. "You're sure?"

"Positive," Jade said, a tad too quickly. He pressed a vellum slip, "pilgrim guest voucher" into Kent's palm. "Trust me. Smoothest path. I'll meet you at point Alpha." With that he strode off toward the market district, humming.

Nima watched from behind Kent. "He's humming off-beat. That means lies. I bet he finds a treasure or something."

Ten minutes later Nima dispatched Raka, her lanky, anxious soul servant, "Go fetch rice puffs for the hike." She ordered.

"Yes," Raka replied, his spiritual awareness is high now. A few minutes later he returned pale and panting.

"Miss! Master!" He shoved a parchment flyer forward. "Found this under a melon crate, everyone's whispering!"

The crude map showed an alley loop behind the Dye-Works, marked with an insect sigil: Night Spider Exchange, a Black-Market Faire, One Day Only.

Below, scribble: "Auction lots include pocket-gate keys, spiritual treasure, and mysterious jade array disk' fragments. Unknown treasure and many more."

Kent and Nima traded a look. "Jade's humming lies have a destination," Nima said pointing at the flyer.

Kent's mind whirred. "If Jade's digging black-market leads, why hide it?" Either the wares were dubious, or he feared Yanling wardens spotting a Nexus officer.

"Nima, I got a job Raka, Lumo, summon them," Kent told her. She summoned Lumo, Raka was already there. Kent told her everything she needs to do, "Scout Star-Wall goat-path, mark campsites, keep low. Report by sundown." Nima gave them this order just like Kent ask her.

Raka listened to her orders, with a nod from Nima. He and Lumo set off with maps and dried noodles.

Then Kent opened his system storage. "We can't go to the black market like this." Then he pulled out many things from his storage.

Auri snickered as Kent stuck on a bushy false moustache, then a lopsided beard made from feathers dyed brown. He added smoked-glass spectacles and an oversized straw hat. He looked like a wandering relic dealer with hay fever.

Nima wrapped a patterned indigo scarf over her lower face, only bright eyes showing. Auri's phoenix glow dimmed, soot rubbed across feathers until he resembled an ordinary black crow. He perched on Kent's shoulder, practicing an ungainly croak.

"Remember, act like a bird," Nima whispered.

"Crawk," Auri tried, voice cracking between phoenix and poultry.

"Close enough," Kent said.

They slipped out through the back alley.

The Dye Works alley stank of indigo vats and old vinegar. A burlap curtain parted to reveal a cellar stair guarded by a woman with mirrored goggles. Kent flashed two spiritual stones, the silent wealth of proof and down they went.

The Night Spider Exchange occupied a brick catacomb lit by glow-worms in glass. Smoky braziers masked the scent of mildew with pepper-leaf resin. Dozens of tables sprawled with contraband, beast cores, counterfeit talismans, rune-ink brooches. Hawkers hissed prices in half-whispers, half-growls.

Halfway through the maze, Kent froze.

There, at a stone shard stall stood Jade Monroe … or rather, a plumped-up Jade. He wore padded robes that ballooned his usually fat frame into a barrel shape. No cloak, no hood, cheeks dabbed with theatrical rouge. Absolutely zero disguise, for nexus it was a very dumb move.

Nima jabbed Kent's ribs. "That's our stealth leader, the Michelin fat Jade."

Kent smothered a laugh. They ducked behind a rack of mummified bat wings and watched.

Jade examined a dull green stone the size of a bun. It was engraved with a partial rune spiral. He offered seven thousand dollars. The stall owner, a scarred kobold merchant, demanded triple.

Someone in the crowd snickered, "Fat scholar short on money?"

Jade's eyebrow twitched. "Maintain decorum."

"Maintain a diet," the heckler shot back.

Voices rose; a ring of onlookers formed. Jade puffed (or maybe his mind shifted) and started quoting antique law on fair trading. The kobold yelled back about bandwidth taxes. Each insult added one more thousand to the asking price.

From behind the bat-wing rack, Nima produced a cone of roasted kernels she'd bought earlier. "Popcorn?"

Kent took a handful. They munched, thoroughly entertained. Auri, "caw caw," pecked crumbs from Kent's palm.

When Jade escalated to 'By the authority of Comparative Artifact Article Twelve…' the kobold shouted 'Authority of your belly rolls fatso!' and a vein popped in Jade's temple. Bystanders howled. Someone started a betting pool on whether Jade would explode or capitulate.

Nima cupped her hands around mouth and called in a squeaky voice, falsetto—"Cheer up, Chubby!"

Jade's head whipped toward the sound, popcorn kernels narrowly missed his nose as he scanned for the heckler. Kent pulled Nima deeper into hiding; corn showered over Auri who broke the crow-cover with a phoenix huff.

Luckily Jade missed them. He threw the kobold an extra fistful of money, snatched the jade shard, and stomped away, grumbling about provincial manners.

Kent and Nima drifted after him, weaving between stalls. Their path triggered mishaps:

Kent's fake beard snagged on a rack of feather-fans, toppling them like dominoes. A merchant shrieked. Kent apologized in a gravelly accent, beard now lopsided, half dashing relic-dealer, half molting goat.

Nima leaned to inspect a "Genuine spiritual Sword", its blade folded like taffy. She snorted so loudly the hawker thought she was mocking him (she was). A shouting match erupted; Nima slipped away, scarf still intact, leaving the hawker yelling at thin air.

Auri, bored, flicked a secret spark, igniting a puff of incense. The resulting aromatic cloud made three patrons sneeze in chorus, spilling spirit wine onto a table of rune-dice. Dice sizzled, exploded into harmless green smoke that spelled "BAD LUCK." Gamblers wailed, scurried.

Through this chaos Jade trudged on, oblivious, until he reached an inner booth where a balding broker displayed sealed scroll tubes. Jade's posture straightened: serious interest. Kent narrowed his eyes, a potential star-wall blueprint? He edged closer, one ear tuned.

But Nima tugged his sleeve. "Warden patrol," she hissed.

Two Yanling soldiers in half-armor descended the stairs, scanning faces for contraband smuggling rings. If they spotted Jade, a foreign officer without any permission, diplomatic implosion. Worse if they linked Kent and Nima.

Decision time.