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Chapter 34: Fumes and Fangs
Time: Two Months After Birth.
Location: The Dimensional Farming Space.
The silence in the Farming Space was beginning to feel unnatural.
For two months, Little Gold had been buried under the Red Clay mound, undergoing his evolution. Without the Fire Crow patrolling the skies, the ecosystem had shifted slightly.
Luo Feng walked through the cornfields, frowning.
"The yield is down by 5%," he muttered, inspecting a stalk of Spirit Corn.
It wasn't a lack of water; the Auto-Irrigation system was working perfectly, keeping the soil moist. It was a lack of Yang.
Little Gold wasn't just a pet; he was a living radiator of pure Fire Qi. His daily flights circulated the warm energy from the artificial sun, stimulating the plants. Without him, the air was stagnant. Pests—tiny Qi-eating beetles—had started to appear on the underside of the leaves.
"I miss the noise," Luo Feng admitted.
He flicked his finger, sending a needle of Metal Qi to skewer a beetle.
He finished his morning maintenance quickly. He couldn't dwell on the farm today. Outside, in the human world, the temperature was rising.
The Challenge.
Location: The Phoenix Spirit Pavilion.
It was noon, and the shop was packed.
The "Hunger Marketing" strategy had worked too well. Every day at dawn, a line formed down the street. Mercenaries, clan disciples, and even servants from the City Lord's manor waited for the chance to buy one of the ten daily bottles.
But today, the line wasn't moving.
A crowd had gathered in the center of the shop, forming a circle.
In the middle stood Fatty Wang, sweating profusely but holding his ground. Opposite him was a tall, gaunt man wearing the golden-embroidered robes of the Golden Pill Shop—the local branch of the Alchemy Guild.
"Shopkeeper Wang," the gaunt man sneered, holding up a flask of Wang's wine. "You claim this swill is a cultivation resource? It smells like fermented rot."
He turned to the crowd.
"I am Alchemist Zhao. The Golden Pill Shop has served this city for fifty years. Today, I bring our newest creation: Refinement Nectar. It clears the mind and soothes the meridians."
He uncorked a jade bottle. A floral, herbal scent wafted out. It was pleasant, delicate, and smelled of medicine.
"Compare it!" Alchemist Zhao challenged. "Pour your 'Spirit Surge Wine'."
Fatty Wang looked nervous. He looked toward the corner of the room, where a figure in a bamboo hat (Luo Feng) was leaning against a pillar.
Luo Feng nodded imperceptibly.
Wang gritted his teeth. "Fine! But don't blame me if your nectar tastes like water afterward."
Wang uncorked the black porcelain flask.
Pop.
There was no floral scent.
There was a roar.
The spicy, aggressive aroma of high-grade alcohol mixed with concentrated Fire Qi exploded into the room. It smelled like blood, heat, and power. It smelled like adrenaline.
The mercenaries in the crowd immediately flared their nostrils.
"Pour it!" a scar-faced cultivator shouted.
Wang poured a small cup. The liquid was a rich, amber red. Alchemist Zhao poured his clear, green nectar.
A neutral judge—a wandering cultivator—tasted Zhao's first.
"Good," he nodded. "Smooth. My headache is gone."
Then he drank the Spirit Surge Wine.
Gulp.
The cultivator's eyes bulged. His face turned red. Steam shot out of his ears.
"HOOOAH!" he roared, slamming the cup down. "POWER! I feel my Qi boiling! I want to fight a bear!"
The crowd erupted.
"I'll take three bottles!"
"Forget the headache medicine, I want the mana boost!"
Alchemist Zhao's face turned purple. The floral scent of his nectar was completely drowned out by the aggressive dominance of the Spirit Wine. He had brought a poem to a knife fight.
"You..." Zhao pointed a trembling finger at Wang. "You are selling poison! This is unrefined! It will ruin foundations!"
"It sells," Wang smirked, his confidence returning.
Zhao stormed out, his eyes filled with venom. As he passed Luo Feng, he didn't notice the shadowed figure. But Luo Feng saw the look in Zhao's eyes.
It wasn't the look of a defeated businessman. It was the look of a man who was done playing by the rules.
The Night Raid.
Time: Midnight.
The streets of Green Willow City were silent. The Phoenix Spirit Pavilion was closed, the heavy iron bars lowered over the windows.
Inside the cellar, it was pitch black.
Luo Feng sat on a crate in the corner, meditating. He hadn't gone home.
"He threatened the foundation," Luo Feng thought. "Alchemists are arrogant. When they lose face, they don't improve their product. They remove the competition."
Click.
A faint sound came from the back alley ventilation grate.
Luo Feng opened his eyes. In the darkness, they glowed faintly.
Spirit Sense: Active.
He felt three signatures dropping into the cellar. They were masked, wearing dark leather armor. Their cultivation wasn't high—Layer 3 and 4 thugs. Mercenaries hired for dirty work.
They moved silently among the barrels.
"Is this it?" one whispered.
"Yeah. The fat pig keeps the reserve stock here," the leader replied. "Boss Zhao said to burn it all. Make it look like an accident. Alcohol burns easy."
The thugs pulled out flint strikers and flasks of Fire Oil.
They began to splash the oil over the wooden crates containing the Spirit Surge Wine.
"Pity," one thug chuckled. "This stuff is worth a fortune. Should we steal a bottle?"
"No time. Light it."
The leader struck his flint. Sparks flew.
But before the spark could hit the oil, a voice spoke from the darkness.
"You know," the voice was calm, echoing off the stone walls. "You are making a mistake."
The three thugs froze. They spun around, daggers drawn.
"Who's there?!"
Luo Feng stepped out of the shadows. He wore his bamboo hat and a black face mask. In his hand, he held a cup of wine.
"You are trying to burn alcohol," Luo Feng said, swirling the liquid. "But you are doing it wrong. You need proper ventilation. Otherwise..."
He threw the contents of his cup into the air.
Mental Manipulation.
The liquid didn't fall. It atomized. Luo Feng used his Spirit Sense to shred the droplets into a fine mist, mixing it with the evaporating fumes of the Fire Oil the thugs had just spilled.
The air in the cellar instantly became saturated with flammable vapor.
"Kill him!" the leader screamed, lunging forward.
Luo Feng didn't draw his saber. He just snapped his fingers.
"Ignite."
He channeled a tiny thread of Fire Qi into the air.
Flashover.
It wasn't an explosion. It was a Fuel-Air Combustion.
The entire room turned orange instantly. The air itself caught fire.
WHOOSH!
The pressure wave slammed the thugs against the wall. The fire didn't burn the barrels—Luo Feng had kept the flame suspended in the air—but it scorched the lungs and skin of the intruders.
"ARGHHH!"
The thugs screamed as the oxygen was sucked out of the room, replaced by searing heat. Their leather armor smoked. their eyebrows vanished. They collapsed, gasping for air, their skin red and blistering.
Luo Feng waved his hand. The fire vanished as quickly as it appeared, extinguished by his will.
He walked over to the groaning leader. The man was half-blind, his face a mask of burns.
"Who sent you?" Luo Feng asked.
"Screw... you..."
Luo Feng stepped on the man's broken hand.
Crunch.
"I heard you mention 'Boss Zhao'," Luo Feng said coldly. "Alchemist Zhao?"
The thug whimpered, nodding frantically.
Luo Feng crouched down and searched the leader. He found a small wooden token in his pocket. It wasn't an official Alchemy Guild token. It was a pass for the Black Wind Bandits.
Luo Feng's eyes narrowed.
"So," Luo Feng whispered. "The respectable Alchemy Shop hires bandits to do their arson. Collusion."
He stood up.
He didn't kill them. Dead bodies in the shop would bring the City Guard investigation.
He dragged the three unconscious, burnt men out to the back alley. He stripped them naked and tied them together.
Then, he used the soot from the fire to write a message on the pavement next to them.
"PLAY WITH FIRE, GET BURNED. — THE BREWER."
The Aftermath.
The next morning, the city woke up to a scandal. Three notorious mercenaries were found tied up behind the Phoenix Spirit Pavilion, smelling of fire oil and looking like roasted pigs. The token linking them to the bandits was "accidentally" left pinned to the leader's chest for everyone to see.
Fatty Wang stared at the scene, pale but grinning.
"Brother Luo," Wang whispered as Luo Feng walked by in the crowd. "You are vicious."
"I am protective," Luo Feng corrected him quietly. "They tried to burn our money."
Luo Feng returned to the farm.
He sat on the porch, looking at the silent fields. The raid had confirmed his fears. The enemies were escalating. First, it was business rivalry. Now, it was arson. Next, it would be assassination.
"I need to fortify," Luo Feng looked at the Red Clay Mound where Little Gold slept.
"Wake up soon," he murmured. "The rats are getting bigger."
He took out the bandit token he had kept (he left a fake copy on the body). He squeezed it until it turned to dust.
The war for the market had officially begun.
[End of Chapter 34]