Night fell like ink over Jiang City's hidden underworld.
Lin Mo slipped through several dimly lit alleys to reach an unremarkable back entrance to an old goods market.
This was one of the entrances to Jiang City's underground black market.
The air was thick with damp, murky scents mixed with various unidentifiable odors.
Unlike the orderly daytime city, this place pulsed with raw, primal energy.
Lin Mo took a deep breath, pushed down his nervousness, and stepped inside.
Using scattered memories from his previous life and careful observation along the way, he quickly found his first target—the antiques district, Boss Qian's "Treasure Gathering Studio."
The storefront was small and run-down, completely out of place among the surrounding shops with their flashing neon signs.
A white-haired old man wearing reading glasses and dozing behind the counter was Boss Qian himself.
Lin Mo pulled out two palm-sized diamond-shaped copper pieces covered in patina from his pocket and placed them on the counter.
These were the pieces he'd dug out of the junk box under his bed. One side of each piece was carved with strange, blurred markings that closely matched his memory of the type Boss Qian collected.
"Boss, would you buy these?" Lin Mo kept his voice steady.
Boss Qian startled awake, looking annoyed until he saw the copper pieces. His cloudy eyes flashed with barely concealed interest.
He picked up one piece, examined it carefully, and scraped at the patina with his fingernail.
"Hmm... condition's mediocre, and the markings are worn." Boss Qian set down the piece, speaking slowly. "Still, you don't see many of these old things anymore. Young man, what price did you have in mind?"
Lin Mo's heart jumped—he had a bite.
"Whatever you think is fair, boss. I trust you're an honest man." He threw the ball back rather than naming a price.
Boss Qian studied Lin Mo more carefully, seeming somewhat surprised.
After a moment's thought, he held up three fingers. "Three hundred federal coins each. That's my final offer."
Three hundred?
Lin Mo was secretly thrilled. This exceeded his expectations—he'd figured he'd be lucky to get a hundred.
Apparently these pieces were worth more than he'd thought.
"Deal. Three hundred," Lin Mo agreed readily.
"But I'm only selling one."
He said this because the copper pieces were a gift from his grandmother—he should keep at least one as a memento.
Money changed hands.
Clutching the crisp three hundred yuan in federal currency, Lin Mo felt much more confident. Though he was still far from ten thousand, at least he had startup capital.
Next came the real main event—the potential betting pool.
Black market betting pools were deeply hidden, usually only open to regular customers.
Lin Mo obviously wasn't a regular.
But he had his own methods.
He stopped at the entrance of a place called "Mad Lion Bar" in the black market's central district. This was where all kinds of people mixed together—one of the most information-rich spots in the black market.
Instead of going inside, he stopped at a grilled skewer stand outside the bar and ordered two of the cheapest mushroom skewers.
The vendor was a burly, scarred bald man with something bulging at his waist—clearly not someone to mess with.
While eating his mushroom skewers, Lin Mo casually asked, "Hey boss, got a question. I heard there's a place in the black market where you can make some big bets—on those martial arts high school students' aptitude test results?"
The bald man's head snapped up, his hawk-like eyes boring into Lin Mo with unmistakable hostility. "Kid, you even got hair on your balls yet? That kind of place is something you should be asking about?"
A menacing aura hit Lin Mo full force.
Any ordinary teenager would've been scared senseless.
But Lin Mo's expression didn't change. He quietly slipped fifty yuan into the bald man's hand.
"Boss, I'm just curious, wanted to see what it's like. Use this money to buy yourself some good cigarettes."
The bald man weighed the cash in his hand, his hostile expression softening slightly while remaining wary. "Kid, let me give you some advice—that kind of place runs deep. Not something a student like you can handle. You'll lose your shirt."
"Thanks for the warning, boss. I know what I'm doing." Lin Mo smiled slightly.
Seeing that Lin Mo wasn't joking and had paid up, the bald man lowered his voice. "Head east, third alley, see the teahouse with red lanterns? Go in and tell the owner you want to 'taste new tea.'"
"Thanks for the tip, boss." Lin Mo thanked him and left.
Red Lantern Teahouse.
Two blood-red lanterns hung by the entrance, looking particularly eerie in the night.
Lin Mo pushed through the door to a rich tea fragrance mixed with a faint metallic scent of blood.
The interior was dimly lit with tough-looking martial artists scattered at tables, eyeing him suspiciously.
A lean middle-aged man in traditional Chinese clothing emerged from behind the counter, squinting at Lin Mo. "What can I get you, young man?"
"Boss, I'd like to... taste new tea." Lin Mo repeated the bald man's instructions.
The lean boss's eyes sharpened momentarily, then he smiled knowingly. "Ah, a fellow connoisseur. Follow me."
He led Lin Mo through the back of the teahouse to a heavy iron door.
Opening it revealed a massive underground space buzzing with voices and thick with smoke.
At the center was a huge electronic screen displaying the names of top talents from Jiang City's various martial arts high schools, along with odds for their aptitude evaluations.
This was the potential betting pool!
Lin Mo quickly scanned the screen.
Soon he found his own name—Lin Mo, Jiang City First Martial Arts High School.
The odds next to his name were absolutely staggering.
"Successfully drawing qi into body: 1 to 50 odds."
"Evaluation reaching D-rank: 1 to 100 odds."
"Evaluation reaching C-rank: 1 to 500 odds!"
These odds were ridiculously high!
Clearly, the betting pool organizers thought Lin Mo successfully drawing qi into his body would be a miracle of miracles.
Lin Mo's lips curved in a cold smile.
He walked to the betting window and put down all the money he had—three hundred fifty yuan—plus the jade pendant he'd found in his grandmother's belongings (his backup plan; he knew from his previous life it could sell for good money at a specific auction, but right now he needed emergency funds).
"Betting on Lin Mo's aptitude evaluation reaching... B-rank!"
The scrawny man behind the window looked up at Lin Mo like he was seeing an idiot. "Kid, B-rank? You know what that means? Jiang City First Martial Arts High School doesn't produce more than one or two B-ranks a year! His odds are... 1 to 2000! You sure about this?"
"I'm sure." Lin Mo's voice was firm.
B-rank had once been an impossible dream for the old him.
But for someone with an Innate Dao Embryo who'd mastered the Innate Qi Cultivation Technique, it wasn't impossible!
Besides, he wanted exactly these maximum odds for maximum return!
Only this way could he have enough money to buy better healing medicine for his mother and pave the way for his own future cultivation!
Just as Lin Mo finished placing his bet and prepared to leave, a sinister voice spoke behind him.
"Well, well, if it isn't our genius Lin. What brings you here to try your luck?"
Lin Mo frowned and turned to see a familiar figure.