For three days Lin Feng kept his head down. He worked quietly, sweeping floors, scrubbing corners, and bowing whenever supervisors passed. The memory of kneeling under Matraich's aura stayed with him, heavy and humiliating. He replayed it again and again, the way she had stripped him of dignity, the way her suspicion had pressed down like a blade. Fear had kept him alive, but pride had been crushed. He whispered to himself at night, promising that one day he would rise above her and press her down and make sure she takes my seed to her mouth.
But survival demanded patience. He could not act rashly, not with her eyes still sharp and the memory fresh. So he waited, pretending to be nothing more than a diligent worker. Inside, however, he was restless. The herbs he had stolen sat hidden in Inventory, untouched, waiting for the right moment.On the third day, Lin Feng decided it was time. He could not risk keeping them longer. If anyone searched him, if Matraich's suspicion returned, he would be finished. He needed to turn the herbs into something useful.
That evening, when the market grew busy and shadows stretched long, he prepared his disguise. He wore a plain mask, covering half his face, and changed his clothing to something loose and unfamiliar. He wrapped a cloth around his head, hiding his hair, and adjusted his posture to look less like himself. Every detail mattered. He could not afford recognition.His heart pounded as he stepped into the market. The noise of vendors calling, buyers haggling, and carts rolling gave him cover. He blended into the crowd, moving carefully, eyes scanning for a stall that would not ask questions.
Finally, he found one. A small vendor tucked into a corner, his table cluttered with herbs, powders, and pills. The man's eyes were sharp but greedy, the kind that valued stones more than honesty. Lin Feng approached slowly, placing the herbs on the table.
The vendor examined them, sniffed, and nodded. "Low‑grade," he said flatly. "I'll give you a few pills for these."
Lin Feng's chest tightened. It wasn't much, but it was enough. He nodded quickly, accepting the trade. The herbs vanished into the vendor's basket, and a small pouch of low‑grade pills slid across the table. Lin Feng snatched them up, tucking them into Inventory before anyone could see. Relief washed over him. He had done it. He had stolen, disguised himself, and sold without being caught. Fear lingered, but exhilaration surged again. His crooked path worked.That night, back in his small room, he sat quietly, clutching the pills. The Chaos Shop flickered faintly, stronger than before. He didn't know why, but it seemed to respond to the change. He stared at the faint glow, his breath uneven, realizing that even small gains mattered.Three days of fear had led to this small victory. It was not much, but it was proof. Proof that he could act, proof that he could grow, proof that he could one day stand above those who humiliated him.