Aotian looked at the 20 cards inside Gu Jian’s storage ring with deep thoughts.

‘This is outright robbery…’ he thought, remembering the number of spirit stones he had deposited.

Just the cost of the 20 empty cards alone was 10,000 mid-grade spirit stones.

And they were mid-grade stones—low-grade ones couldn’t be used to pay.

But the most unbelievable part was the 20% fee, which was simply daylight robbery.

Of the 2 million high-grade stones he had deposited, 400,000 were taken, leaving only 1.6 million. Not to mention the others of lower grades.

Fortunately, the rings he stole from the royal family were of much better quality than the 5-cubic-meter one he had taken from Wu Juntian, and they could hold a lot more of the stones Bao Wuji had hastily synthesized. Otherwise, Aotian would have had to go through with his plan of having the elders carry multiple hidden storage bags stuffed with stones.

‘To process raw stones, the bank takes 20% of the total, but if you want to convert the value back into real stones here, you only get a 1-to-1 rate, without recovering the 20% fee,’ Aotian couldn’t help but curse those black-hearted bankers internally.

From what he had learned from the prince’s memories, these cards didn’t have much use besides allowing portability of funds and ease of transactions.

What really made people accept being exploited was the simple fact that these cards were extremely secure, and it had never been heard of one being breached or tampered with.

And if a drop of blood were placed on one, its value could only be manipulated by the owner of that blood. Though it didn’t prevent theft, it diminished a thief’s enthusiasm, since even if they stole the card, it would be useless—adding a layer of protection in itself.

Because of that, Aotian had no choice but to leave behind the royal family’s jade cards, as transferring their balances would be far too troublesome, requiring him to force each owner to authorize it. He didn’t see the need to keep Bao Wuji on the continent just for a few spirit stones, which he no longer lacked.

‘Well, this 20% robbery is something only those who deal in raw stones need to suffer. Other people simply make transactions using the cards, which come with no fees. Even so, I left some raw stones in the ring without converting them, since not everyone is wealthy enough to have jade cards, and many trades in smaller places, like street stalls, are done with spirit stones.’

Aotian pondered as Gu Jian exited the conversion room and stood once more in the grand entrance hall of the bank, which he took a second to appreciate for the first time.

The bank, in general, was majestic yet simple.

Some decorative columns with patterns of golden beasts, polished gray floors, yellow walls on the lower half and white on the upper half.

It was huge and busy, and one could feel formations faintly humming within the walls, showing it was not a place to mess around or harbor ill intentions.

There were even a few guards stationed at strategic spots, radiating Golden Core cultivation.

From the prince’s memories, Aotian also knew that the bank’s manager—and also its guardian—was a Nascent Soul cultivator, which was terrifying, considering that this was just a city built upon a Third-Tier spiritual vein.

Aotian’s main body narrowed its eyes slightly, thoughtful, as Gu Jian departed from the bank.

‘Rihai told me about the Golden Dragon Bank. It’s one of the oldest, most mysterious, and most powerful forces in this world. Its true headquarters are actually in the central continent. As a so-called “neutral” power, it’s hard to know what kind of monsters and what real power or intentions they have.’

‘Anyone who tries to rob or antagonize a branch of the Golden Dragon Bank is simply seeking death. It’s not like no one has ever tried—or even succeeded—but those who did didn’t live more than a day or two.’

He recalled what Rihai had explained and what he had obtained from the prince’s mind.

Gu Jian, meanwhile, didn’t stop and made his way to a treasure pavilion not far from the bank, his appearance and aura changing as he passed through hidden areas.

From the prince’s memory, the pavilion he was heading to also belonged to a major power, though nothing as impressive as the Golden Dragon Bank. Still, it was very reliable and had a clean reputation, although their products were a bit more expensive.

It was a good place to spend a lot without attracting trouble.

As he approached the pavilion, the other nine avatars were already waiting for him—each disguised with a different appearance and aura.

Entering the pavilion with them, he went on a shopping spree, starting with the best ten storage rings, materials, and finally asked for what he was most interested in at that moment.

Looking at the saleswoman in the VIP room, who was watching the ten men before her with an extremely excited gleam in her eyes, already dreaming about the commission she’d receive after their previous purchases, Gu Jian, who led the group, made his final request.

“Do you have any Body Refining techniques?” he asked calmly, startling the woman a little.

Body Refinement was not a very sought-after discipline, so she was taken aback by his request.

Aotian believed that there should be such techniques among the materials stolen from the royal family. But probably only a few high-quality ones, and what he wanted was quantity.

“Um… sir, our branch does have a few of those, but not much variety. What cultivation realm are you looking for? I can show you the best we have,” she quickly adjusted to the peculiar request and asked with a calm smile.

“No need to search—just give me all of them. And I also want every single auxiliary art inheritance your pavilion has. Lastly, I want everything you have from Founder-Tier and up,” he ordered calmly, stunning the woman with the request.

When she realized what he had just said, she jumped from her chair without hesitation and bowed, asking him to wait a moment. She nearly ran out of the room.

Her eyes screamed: huge commission.

It wasn’t long before the woman returned bearing wonderful news.

As for Aotian, he had such a huge smile on his face that it was dangerous it might tear his mouth.

‘Profit! Bloody profit! I’m finally back to being a nouveau riche, just pointing and buying whatever I want without a care in the world!’

Aotian restrained himself from dancing with joy.

And the result of his shopping spree, besides the storage rings and various materials?

In Body Refinement techniques (approximately):

– 800 Refiner-Tier

– 500 Founder-Tier

– 200 Core-Tier

In Cultivation techniques (approximately):

– 5,000 Founder-Tier

– 800 Core-Tier

In Spells (approximately):

– 10,000 Founder-Tier

– 3,000 Core-Tier

In Auxiliary Arts (Alchemy, Forging, Talismans, Formations):

– 100 Refiner-Tier of each

– 100 Founder-Tier of each

– 100 Core-Tier of each

The Body Refinement techniques seemed normal, but the Auxiliary Arts ones had rather strange numbers.

Later, Aotian understood, after indirectly asking the attendant, that techniques and spells had many variations and affinities depending on the person. However, auxiliary arts, despite also having variations, followed more like a path of study toward proficiency within a unified foundation.

‘In other words: They all pointed to the same thing, like a textbook from back on Earth,’ Aotian simplified mentally.

Because of this, pavilions selling such techniques didn’t waste time accumulating thousands of versions, but simply selected the good-quality ones to sell.

Even other techniques, such as Founder-tier and Refiner-tier ones, had their numbers limited to high-quality versions to avoid filling the pavilion and the sales list with useless, meaningless junk.

Even so, there were still price variations among these already limited high-quality techniques, as even among them there were superior and inferior ones. A few manuals were much more expensive, while others were cheaper. All of this aimed at profit. Those who could afford better inheritances and techniques spent more, and those who couldn’t, chose the inferior ones.

And why were the number of copies across the different Tiers of the Auxiliary Arts inheritances identical? Simply because there were actually 100 unique manuals for each of the four Auxiliary Arts, covering all three realms (Refiner-Tier, Founder-Tier, Core-Tier)—totaling 400 manuals.

Although they could also be sold separately to maximize the pavilion’s profit, allowing someone to buy one realm first and later the next as they advanced.

In total, just with this shopping spree—just with the techniques—Aotian spent:

– 113,350,000 low-grade spirit stones

– 95,000,000 mid-grade spirit stones

Despite the shocking numbers, Aotian had simply emptied the pavilion’s technique stock, which justified the amount.

According to the consensus of that continent, Refiner-Tier and Founder-Tier items were bought with low-grade stones; Core-Tier and Nascent-Tier items, with mid-grade stones; and above that, with high-grade stones.

Normally, items could be purchased with higher-grade stones, but never with lower-grade ones, as that was considered a loss. After all, even if the market value was similar, no one really accepted someone giving 100 mid-grade stones when they should offer a high-grade one. It was the same logic as no one trading a Core-Tier artifact for 100 Founder-Tier ones. It wasn’t just about market value, but actual value.

That’s how most trades in the market were. No one liked to pay with a higher-grade stone for a lower-grade item—except, of course, for a few rich folks who didn’t care about these “small” profits and losses, like Aotian.

Another curious fact was that, as surprising as it was, the enormous amount he had to pay for the requested techniques wasn’t overpriced or underpriced compared to the prices in the desert continents.

Aotian thought that with so many spirit stones on this continent, perhaps they would be devalued. But in reality, just as there were more stones, the number of cultivators using them was unimaginably higher compared to the deserts, which curiously created a kind of price balance between the two regions.

Of course, the desert continents were still extremely poor in terms of resources, opportunities, and overall quality.

After everything was calculated and his new debit cards were swiped, the avatars left behind nearly 1.2 million mid-grade spirit stones and nearly 1 million high-grade stones—almost emptying half their wallets. But Aotian wasn’t worried. This time, the money was meant for this.

He planned to gain a little more strength and explore the outskirts of the continent before bringing more money and playing around with Nascent-Tier items, so he wouldn’t have many more expenses for a long time.

Fortunately, during the payment, the cards came with built-in lower-tier converters. So Aotian could convert high-grade stones into mid- or even low-grade ones at the standard 1-to-100 conversion rate.

Of course, the black-hearted bank didn’t allow the reverse to be done on the card—such as converting 100 to 1, meaning from a lower tier to a higher one.

Normally, this kind of downgrade conversion wasn’t used much, since it only really benefited the bank, but Aotian found its existence pleasant, as it helped him avoid startling the attendant even more by using high-grade stones for the transaction. After all, stones of that level were usually reserved for high-level negotiations.

Even so, the attendant’s disbelieving face—who thought he’d remove many items from the long list before paying, but instead watched him pay the full value for everything—made his main body lose control and laugh out loud.

Once everything was finalized, they left under the attendant’s confused blessings, who wore a huge smile and was struggling not to jump for joy.

“Good luck with the founding of your sect, sirs. Have a great day, and come again!” she waved with an extremely happy smile as she watched them leave.

Aotian, in his main body, was at first confused by what she meant, but quickly understood and rolled his eyes.

The woman thought they wanted so many techniques because they were starting a sect, but Aotian didn’t correct her misunderstanding.

It’s not like the pavilions prohibited sharing of purchased techniques. As long as they weren’t distributed for free publicly or blatantly sold in the city, they didn’t care much. After all, they couldn’t fully regulate the techniques they sold.

Relying on the reputation of their pavilion and the large population of the city, they wouldn’t run out of business anyway. And no one was foolish enough to antagonize them by widely reselling acquired techniques and trampling on the pavilion’s head for a few spirit stones. And if such fools did exist, they could only blame themselves for their greed and subsequent suicide with 20 swords in their backs.

After leaving the pavilion, the avatars rented rooms at a renowned inn in the city center and didn’t waste any time. They immediately began smacking jade slips against their foreheads.

Though plagued by headaches from the flood of knowledge entering their minds, Aotian didn’t feel discouraged at all. On the contrary, his heart was deeply content.

‘Time to mass synthesize again.’

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep