Driven by curiosity, Sylvester activated [Eye of True Sight], hoping to uncover some clue.
Fixing his gaze on the two Cloud Knights before him, countless informational entries flashed across Sylvester's mind.
Whether it was their daily food, clothing, housing, or secret files they had read, everything they had ever participated in appeared crystal clear.
In an instant, tens of thousands of entries had already swept past his mind.
Yet most were trivial, inconsequential chores. As the flood of information grew heavier, Sylvester tried narrowing his scope.
In his heart, he silently intoned: "The sights and sounds of the two before me yesterday, as well as their departmental records."
Sure enough, ninety-nine percent of the data suddenly vanished, leaving only the most prominent fragments.
After reviewing each entry from top to bottom, Sylvester found they really were the most ordinary of Cloud Knights.
What the hell? Jing Yuan is being way too careless.
Wait! What's this?!
Sylvester's thoughts froze on a single entry.
That line clearly read: "Race: Borisin."
So that's it!
Borisin spies! No wonder their behavior was so suspicious. The one who sent them wasn't Jing Yuan at all, but that fake Emissary of Abundance, Phantylia!
Sylvester sneered inwardly.
Heh, you want to use the Curios in my hands against the Xianzhou?
Indeed, if they managed to seize a golden Curio, it could cause irreparable harm to the Xianzhou. Even a purple Curio, used properly, could wreak no small havoc. Especially if these Borisin spies got one—through a sudden strike, they might even annihilate the main fighting strength of the Luofu.
If nothing else, that [Orb of IX] in Dan Heng's hands was perfect for such an operation.
The plan was flawless, but unfortunately, the first step had already failed.
His consciousness returned from the flood of data to reality. Carefully restraining his gaze toward the Cloud Knights to match that of a shopkeeper with ordinary customers, he nonetheless memorized their work IDs.
Wearing a professional smile, he said: "Gentlemen, yesterday I received a direct decree from the Seat of Divine Foresight. The Xianzhou has decided that all Luofu officials must carry ordinances personally approved by the Seven Arbiter-Generals of the Seat of Divine Foresight in order to purchase Curio Trash Cans from my shop."
"Haha, after all, the common citizens of the Luofu deserve a fair chance too. We can't let the big shots monopolize everything, right? Perhaps you haven't yet received the document, so you wouldn't know of this."
"This…"
The two Cloud Knights exchanged glances, unease plain on their faces. Indeed, they hadn't heard of any special purchasing restrictions aimed at them.
Damn it! What are the Luofu's high officials thinking? Such things ought to go to the strong, not the weak. These hypocritical measures are ruining our mission.
The Borisin spies in disguise ground their teeth in frustration.
But the civilians behind them burst into cheers: "A benevolent policy! General Jing Yuan is truly wise!"
"Yesterday I was worried… With Curio Trash Cans being so powerful, I thought the authorities would seize them all. I never expected our general to be so considerate. And in just a few days, the decree is already here!"
"Exactly, I was nervous too. That's why I've been lining up so early each day, afraid they'd suddenly cut us off. Now I can relax."
Watching the 'Cloud Knights' grow increasingly grim-faced, Sylvester chuckled inwardly. They really picked the worst timing.
Not earlier, not later—right at the moment when the restriction was enacted but not yet fully disseminated.
"However. Even without the restriction, you wouldn't be buying any Trash Cans today."
Sylvester's tone suddenly shifted. The 'Cloud Knights' frowned, a bad feeling rising in their hearts.
Their hands tightened instinctively on their longswords, and one growled: "What, are you refusing to sell to us specifically?"
"Hahaha." Sylvester waved them off, laughing at their guilty expressions. "Not at all, not at all. You misunderstand. My shop is closed for inventory today. I only opened the door to grab breakfast. So even if you qualified, you'd have to wait until tomorrow."
"Hmph! Then forget it. Hoo~"
Though they feigned anger, the two exhaled deeply in relief.
Compared to failing to purchase, having their identities exposed would've been fatal. If that happened, they'd never leave the Luofu alive—and under torture, their entire plan might be dragged into the light.
The hope of Borisin race's revival could not be destroyed in their hands. Fortunately, it was only a false alarm.
Seeing no chance to buy Trash Cans, they left without further fuss.
Sylvester turned to the customers behind them, dispersing the crowd: "Everyone, you heard. Closed today. If you want Curios, come back tomorrow."
"Ah? I got up early for nothing?"
"Nothing lost—waking up early's a good habit anyway. I'm off to breakfast."
"Heh! So, you couldn't afford a Trash Can and just came to watch the fun? I, on the other hand—"
Whether casual or complaining, the crowd quickly dispersed.
Back inside the shop, Sylvester immediately took out his jade communication device to contact Qingque, stationed next door. He dialed, but got no response.
Still asleep? Some recordkeeper she is—so unprofessional.
To avoid alerting the spies, he didn't knock on Qingque's door. Instead, he climbed straight to the second floor.
The two houses stood less than a meter apart, forever shrouded in shadow. The ground below was covered with weeds and moss—nobody walked there, let alone paid attention.
Yet in this cramped, useless space, there was a window on the second floor. What sort of architect thought this was a good idea?
Though barging into a girl's room was hardly proper, desperate times called for desperate measures.
Miss Qingque, for the sake of the General's "Purge the Unclean, Promote the Virtuous" plan, it's time for you to work overtime and tail some enemies.
He leaned out, sliding the window open with a push. As expected, Qingque hadn't locked it.
Tsk tsk, living alone and this careless. What if some stalker or creep came after you?
Huh? Am I insulting myself? Get it straight—this man named Sylvester is a bona fide Xianzhou General.
This wasn't trespassing. It was a superior forcibly conscripting a subordinate for overtime.
Though honestly, for Qingque, the former might have been preferable.
Sylvester hopped lightly through the window into Qingque's quarters.
Just as he was scanning the room for his "ideal draftee," an electronic voice rang in his ear.
"Friend, you're utterly defeated!"
He tilted his head toward the source. There lay Qingque in her usual dark green dress, barefoot in slippers, sprawled on the couch with limbs akimbo, her face twisted worse than crying.
What the hell? Did she just die gaming?
Perfect timing! Uh—wait. There I go memeing again…