Finally, at Mu Sicheng's insistence, the matter of the badge was left for Bai Liu to handle on their own.
The highlight of this year's event was the weapons renovation.
Charles led them to an eccentric-looking weapons modifier. His unkempt, half-long hair was matted into clumps by dark machine oil, hanging in greasy locks around his disheveled beard. His face was so smudged with grime that it was impossible to guess his age.
The workshop walls were covered with knives, crosshairs, saw blades, and other oddly shaped tools and semi-finished products. The air was thick with the acrid stench of smoke and petrol.
In the center of the room sat a massive furnace, bubbling with molten lava. The modifier pulled down a welder's mask over his head and dipped a long hook into the lava, holding a weapon that had been burned beyond recognition.
A sizzling hiss filled the air as thick black smoke rose from the molten surface.
Two seconds later, the modifier pulled the hook back out—the weapon was gone, completely melted away.
"Tch." He grunted in displeasure. "Who the hell threw in a skill weapon with such a low melting point? It's gone in a single dip!"
The apprentice standing beside him looked at the lava pit, eyes welling up with tears as he jumped up in alarm.
"Master, you could've at least measured the melting point first! How are we supposed to get our weapons out of the pot now?"
"If you can't get it out, then forget it." The modifier tossed the hook aside with a snort. "If it can't even withstand the stone slurry boiled by my Samadhi fire, it's worthless. Utter trash."
Muke couldn't help but stare at the bubbling lava, gulping as they instinctively tightened their grip on their weapon.
The modifier, dressed in an old-fashioned worker's uniform from the '80s or '90s and wearing a thick felt apron, pushed his greasy hair back. He set a glowing welding gun against the wall before turning to Bai Liu.
"So, you're the ones here for modifications?"
Charles barely resisted the urge to leave immediately but still nodded haughtily. "It's them."
He gestured toward Bai Liu.
"This is the best weapon modifier in the game—General Hua Gan."
Hua Gan's eyes, hidden beneath layers of grime and tangled hair, swept over them with sharp scrutiny. Without a word, he suddenly reached out, snatching Bai Liu's gloves right off their hands before anyone could react.
"This is your skill weapon, isn't it?" he asked, though he didn't bother looking at Bai Liu for confirmation. Instead, he grabbed a pen-style spotlight magnifying glass from a nearby drawer, securing it over his left eye, while in his other hand, he deftly wielded a sharp-edged knife.
Without hesitation, he slashed it across the surface of the glove.
A hole appeared instantly.
"Hey! Don't just start cutting things up!" Mu Sicheng shouted in alarm.
Hua Gan ignored him completely. His knife moved faster and faster, stripping the glove down in a few quick strokes. Then, he plucked a needle and thread from his tangled hair, licked the thread twice, and swiftly stitched the glove back together.
A few moments later, he tossed it back to Bai Liu, wiping his hands on a rag.
"Try it again."
Bai Liu slipped the glove back on, raising an eyebrow. "It fits much better than before."
The leather had been rolled inward at the knuckles, and a new slit extended from the glove's end, neatly wrapping around the wrist—far more comfortable than the crude modifications Charles had done before.
"Worthy of being the best," Bai Liu remarked, genuinely impressed.
Charles removed his hat and gave a theatrical bow, smiling as he stepped back. "Then I'll leave it to you, Mr. Hua Gan."
Hua Gan waved a hand dismissively.
Once Charles had left, the burly modifier got down to business.
"My skill is this furnace fire," he said. "It's called Samadhi."
The apprentice muttered under his breath, "It's called dissolving forging paste, Master."
Hua Gan smacked him on the back of the head. "If I say it's called Samadhi, it's called Samadhi! I like 'Samadhi,' don't I?"
The apprentice sighed. "...Fine."
"Anyway," Hua Gan continued, "weapon transformation has two stages. The first is shaping—that's what I just did to your glove. After shaping, if you're satisfied, we move to the forge fire to set and strengthen it."
He leveled a serious gaze at Bai Liu.
"Only skill weapons that survive the forge fire intact can maintain their modified state and remain usable in the tournament."
"However, during the forging process, you can incorporate rare materials to enhance your weapon's attributes—boost attack, increase durability, that kind of thing."
He gestured to Bai Liu's gloves.
"For example, I could shape them with a layer of metallic satin on top and embed green goat sheepskin inside. That would add about 2,700 to their defense value."
"But in exchange, they'd weigh 120kg—meaning you'd basically be carrying a 200-pound man at all times."
Bai Liu: "...I think I'll pass."
Hua Gan shrugged.
"So, it's up to you. Whether to add enhancements, what materials to use—it's your call. Charles already covered your forging fees, and I have all the materials you'll need."
With that, he held out a hand.
"Give me the gloves. It's time to cross the lava."
Bai Liu handed them over but hesitated.
"What happens if they don't pass and just melt away like that last weapon?"
Hua Gan smirked.
"Skill weapons are born from desire. The purer the desire, the greater their potential—and the stronger they become after being tempered by fire."
He secured the gloves onto a long hook.
"Weapons of low grade dissolve. That's all there is to it."
Bai Liu murmured under his breath, "If I give you my wallet, would you give everything—your skill, your soul—to forge my weapon?"
"You're my client," Hua Gan said, "and as long as your weapon holds up, I'll forge it to your satisfaction."
A faint smirk tugged at Bai Liu's lips.
Without hesitation, Hua Gan plunged Bai Liu's worn, frayed gloves into the burning, molten lava.
A sharp, crackling hiss filled the air.
As the gloves burned, faint traces of banknotes inside them ignited.
The others—Muke, Mu Sicheng, Liu Jiayi, and Tang Erda—slowly turned to stare at Bai Liu.
Liu Jiayi calmly reminded him, "Did you forget to take something out?"
Bai Liu blinked, then smiled guilelessly. "Oops. I forgot to take your money out."
He was definitely lying.
Mu Sicheng gritted his teeth, ready to throttle him, but Tang Erda held him back. Liu Jiayi covered her face while Muke stared, dumbfounded, at the lava pit.
Bai Liu's dark pupils reflected the cauldron's glow. Wisps of smoke curled from the surface, the scent thick and suffocating—like a soul burning away under the weight of desire.
His soul note was inside that wallet, too.
Something inside him was evaporating, impurities melting away, replaced by something more raw, more frenzied.
Hua Gan raised the hook.
And the gloves…
They had transformed.
Where the fabric had been frayed and torn, it was now smooth, pristine black leather. A ring of metal encircled the wrist, and on the back of the hand, a massive hexagonal groove held a molten, blood-red gem.
And the lava pot—
Was now nearly empty.
The apprentice gawked, stunned.
"Master... the lava... How did it—?"
Hua Gan sucked in a sharp breath, his face twisting in disbelief as he turned to Bai Liu.
"What the hell did you do?"
He had sensed something was off.
He hadn't been particularly wary of Bai Liu's team—after all, no one was allowed to use attack skills in the lobby, and Hua Gan's own abilities were overwhelmingly dominant.
But he had never imagined Bai Liu would go so far as to set him up during a crucial skill weapon modification.
Bai Liu rose unsteadily to his feet, retrieving his gloves from the hook and sliding them back onto his hands. Though they had just been submerged in molten lava, they were only faintly warm—completely intact, with not even a hint of damage.
As if the searing heat of the forge was powerless against a weapon born from Bai Liu's desire.
"A soul note is also a coin."
Bai Liu pulled a fresh soul note from the inner lining of his glove, holding it loosely between his index and middle fingers.
Printed on its surface was the unmistakable, furious face of General Hua Gan.
Bai Liu smiled. "The moment you took my wallet, Mr. Hua Gan, our deal was sealed."
Hua Gan's chest heaved with barely contained fury. His teeth clenched as he spat, "I've never seen a greedier skill weapon. Sooner or later, you'll be consumed by your own desire."
"Maybe," Bai Liu admitted easily, stepping closer. His gloved hand hooked Hua Gan's own away, then forcefully pushed him down into his chair, leaning in until their gazes locked.
"But before that, Mr. Hua Gan… tell me—what exactly did the President of the Deer Hunters offer you?
What kind of task was so important that it made the high and mighty master weapon modifier—who only ever served those within the guild—lower himself to accommodate me?"
Bai Liu lifted his gaze, shifting to the trembling apprentice. Mu Sicheng's claws tightened around the boy's throat in a suffocating grip.
"You can lie," Bai Liu murmured, voice deceptively calm. "But I imagine a good master wouldn't want to see his apprentice suffer the consequences of lying on his behalf. Wouldn't you agree?"
Hua Gan's pupils shrank to pinpricks.
In an instant, the roles of hunter and prey had reversed.