[HOST INTEGRITY: 20%]

[LOCATION: NORTHWOOD HIGH SCHOOL – CAFETERIA]

[TIME: 12:15 PM (NEXT DAY)]

Ren Wu sat at his usual table in the corner of the cafeteria.

To the casual observer, he was just a quiet student eating a turkey sandwich.

To Jian, who sat across from him, Ren looked like a bomb technician defusing a live explosive.

Ren was scrolling through his phone, but he wasn’t checking social media. He was checking the Underworld Market Index.

[SCRAP METAL PRICE: UP 2%]

[DEATH DEW FUTURES: STABLE]

[CURRENT ASSETS: 400 COINS (LIQUID)]

“We cleared 400 coins last night,” Ren whispered, not looking up. “The scrap metal exchange is surprisingly efficient if you don’t ask where the copper comes from.”

Jian looked nervous. He kept glancing over his shoulder, his leg bouncing under the table. “Ren, people are looking at us. Well, at you. You look… different.”

Ren paused. He touched his face.

The Body Refinement Pill had done its job. The bruised, greyish pallor of his skin was gone, replaced by a healthy, albeit pale, complexion. The sling was gone from his arm. His eyes, usually dull with exhaustion, were sharp and clear.

He looked… healthy.

And in the high school ecosystem, a sudden glow-up attracted attention.

“Ignore them,” Ren said. “Focus on the logistics. Tonight, we scale up. Lian says the factory can handle double the output if we—”

Ren stopped.

The cafeteria noise level dropped.

It wasn’t silence, but a hush. The kind of quiet that happens when a predator walks into a grazing herd.

Ye Lingshan walked in.

She held her lunch tray like a shield. Her eyes scanned the room, cold and calculating.

She didn’t sit with the popular girls. She didn’t sit with the athletes.

She walked straight toward Ren’s table.

Jian choked on his milk. “Ren. Ice Queen. Twelve o’clock.”

Ren didn’t flinch. He slowly lowered his phone.

She’s investigating, Ren realized. She saw the anomaly in Sector 9 last night. Now she’s checking the variables.

Ye Lingshan stopped at their table.

She placed her tray down.

She looked at Ren. Then at Jian. Then back at Ren.

“May I sit?” she asked.

It wasn’t a question. It was a notification of intent.

“Free country,” Ren said, shrugging.

She sat down. She opened a carton of milk with precise, militaristic movements.

“You look better,” she said, staring directly at Ren. “Your aura is… cleaner. Less like a graveyard.”

“Vitamins,” Ren lied smoothly. “And sleep.”

“Sleep,” Ye Lingshan repeated. She took a sip of milk. “Interesting. Because I didn’t sleep at all. I was monitoring a massive spiritual disturbance in Sector 9.”

Jian started coughing violently.

Ren kicked him under the table.

“Sector 9?” Ren asked, looking bored. “Is that a video game level?”

Ye Lingshan narrowed her eyes. She reached into her blazer pocket and pulled out a small, clear plastic bag.

Inside was a pinch of grey ash.

[ITEM: RESIDUE OF SPIRIT INCENSE (TYPE-F)]

“I found this at the scene,” she said, sliding the bag across the table. “Someone is feeding the stray ghosts. Organizing them. Turning them into a workforce.”

She watched Ren’s face for a micro-expression.

“It smells like… ozone. And death.”

Ren picked up the bag. He looked at it like it was a fascinating bug.

“Sounds dangerous,” Ren said. “Why are you telling me?”

“Because,” Ye Lingshan said, her voice dropping to a whisper, “the energy signature on this ash… feels familiar.”

She leaned in across the table.

“It feels like Authority. The same kind of Authority I felt in the Bell Tower yesterday.”

Ren’s heart rate didn’t spike. He had practiced this for centuries.

“I don’t know anything about towers or ash,” Ren said. “I’m just a guy trying to pass History class.”

Ye Lingshan stared at him for five long seconds.

Her gaze was heavy. It was a [Spirit Scan]. She was trying to pierce his veil, to see the Warlord underneath the student.

Ren didn’t block it.

Blocking it would reveal he had power. Instead, he used a trick he had learned two thousand years ago to hide his assets from the Emperor’s auditors.

[TECHNIQUE: THE EMPTY VESSEL]

Hide the gold. Show the dust.

He relaxed his soul. He projected nothing. No power. No ambition. No fear. Just the dull, static hum of a normal, bored teenager thinking about homework.

Ye Lingshan frowned.

She couldn’t find it.

To her senses, Ren was just… empty. There was no Warlord here. Just a boy eating a sandwich.

“Maybe I was wrong,” she muttered, taking the bag back.

She stood up, picking up her tray.

“But be careful, Ren Wu. The Underworld is waking up. And it doesn’t like new players.”

She walked away, her ponytail swinging like a pendulum.

The Aftermath

Jian exhaled a breath he had been holding for two minutes.

“She knows,” Jian whispered. “She definitely suspects something.”

“She suspects an Authority Figure,” Ren corrected. “She doesn’t know it’s me. Yet.”

Ren watched her leave.

“She has a sample of the product. She’s going to analyze it. If she traces the Death Dew signature, she’ll find the hospital. Then she’ll find the factory.”

Ren stood up, crumpling his napkin.

“We need a disguise,” Ren said. “A persona. If we are going to sell to the big leagues, I can’t be Ren Wu anymore.”

“Who are you going to be?” Jian asked.

Ren smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile.

“Tonight,” Ren said, “we introduce Mr. Crow to the market.”

[Author Note:]

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]

The best way to hide a tree is in a forest.

The best way to hide a Warlord is behind a Mask.

Next Chapter: Mr. Crow.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep