"Heh-heh~"
In a high-rise apartment somewhere in the bustling city, Chen Mo hummed to himself while standing before a full-length mirror in the bathroom, carefully cleaning his tail.
Ever since becoming a Draco, he'd developed the habit of scrubbing his horns and tail. Every time he finished, the sight of his gleaming scales filled him with a quiet, undeniable satisfaction.
"All done! Looks amazing—of course it does. It's me."
His thick, long tail swished a few times in front of the mirror. Chen Mo nodded, genuinely pleased.
This felt several times better than organizing his old figurines.
Then again… maybe it was because he'd effectively become a life-sized figurine himself. No wonder he had so much motivation to "maintain" the display.
He studied his reflection closely: the four horns and tail that resembled Reed's, and the facial features eerily similar to Talulah's. Only after confirming there was nothing off did he leave the bathroom, satisfied.
Since he'd broken off from the Hungry Wolves, he suddenly had nothing urgent to do. He glanced around at the bright, prosperous streetscape outside, rubbed his chin, and fell into thought.
He'd been driven around like a workhorse by that pervert for so long. Now that the work had stopped, he oddly didn't know what to do with himself.
"Oh, right. I should buy a weapon."
So far, no one had forced Chen Mo to take things seriously. Whenever he used Originium Arts, he'd simply grabbed whatever was on hand—a thug's dagger or something small—and used it as an improvised casting medium.
That terrifying talent was worthy of the Draco name.
But now that he knew an "old bastard" was watching him, Chen Mo decided it would be smarter to buy a proper weapon—just in case.
The problem was: he knew nothing about buying weapons. Without a local to guide him, he might get ripped off and end up helping someone count the money he'd just been cheated out of.
"Huh? Isn't that Fire Dragon—Chen Mo, the gorgeous guy?"
Chen Mo's brow furrowed. His fist tightened instinctively—he was ready to spin around and punch whoever had crept up behind him.
After being harassed daily by sleazy female thugs, this kind of knee-jerk reaction had become muscle memory.
Then he saw who it was.
"Hm? It's you, Croissant."
Recognizing that familiar, sunny grin, Chen Mo relaxed his fist and looked curiously at the massive backpack on her shoulders.
"What are you doing here?"
"You gave that father and son my contact info, remember? I just finished delivering their order."
Croissant shook the pack on her back, then asked with interest,
"What about you, Chen Mo? Where are you headed—same direction?"
"I was going to buy a weapon…"
Chen Mo scratched one of his horns—and then it clicked.
Isn't this exactly the best guide I could ask for?
Penguin Logistics was an armed logistics company. Croissant would definitely know where to buy weapons that were worth the price.
"Croissant, do you know any weapon shops nearby that have good quality and fair prices?"
"A weapon shop?" Croissant pointed behind Chen Mo. "There's a Raythean Industries branch in District 20, not too far from here."
Chen Mo turned to look, tail swaying as he considered it.
Lungmen's District 20 was a commercial area. There wasn't anything like the Hungry Wolves there—no major gang dominance, just scattered petty groups that barely mattered. Chen Mo had been there a few times.
And going out occasionally was fine. Back when he was collecting debts and chasing people down, he'd roamed plenty of Lungmen's districts.
As long as he didn't linger too long.
Seeing Chen Mo thinking, Croissant scratched her cheek and offered,
"Want me to take you there? It's on my way anyway."
"Isn't that too much trouble for you?" Chen Mo asked.
Croissant just waved it off, her straightforward grin instantly likable.
"Helping a handsome guy in distress is what I should do. And I'm not lying—it really is on the way. I need to restock some items over there too."
She tilted her head.
"How about it—want a ride?"
At that point, refusing would be pointless. Chen Mo smiled and nodded.
"Then I'll take you up on it."
"No problem," Croissant laughed. "Walking around with a gorgeous guy like you? Exusiai's going to be jealous to death. Hahaha."
Talking to someone like Croissant—someone with actual social awareness—was genuinely comfortable.
Not like the Hungry Wolves' horny idiots, who opened their mouths and poured out filth, their disgusting eyes constantly sliding over his body.
Unfortunately, good moments never lasted.
Before long, riding in Penguin Logistics' delivery truck, they arrived at the Raythean Industries storefront Croissant had mentioned.
"Wow… this place is huge."
Standing before the automatic doors, Chen Mo felt faintly uneasy. The interior screamed high-tech polish, which usually meant the price tags would be equally "advanced."
Croissant seemed to read his concern. She walked in first and waved him over.
"I know one of the sales staff here. Don't worry—he'll give you a discount."
"I wouldn't be so sure."
A uniformed Feline man with a cool, indifferent expression walked up. He glanced at Croissant, who was currently introducing the store to Chen Mo, and said blandly,
"Croissant from Penguin Logistics. Are you here again to squeeze us for benefits?"
"Ah—no, no." Croissant grinned brightly. "I'm here to bring you business."
She pointed at Chen Mo, who was surveying the weapons display with interest.
"You've heard of the Hungry Wolves' Fire Dragon, right? He's here to buy a weapon."
"Hungry Wolves… Fire Dragon?"
The Feline man's face changed instantly—from indifferent to solemn. He carefully examined Chen Mo, whose looks and physique were good enough to make even him feel a flicker of envy.
"Indeed, that is a high-value client. This way, please."
He stepped aside respectfully and guided them toward a private meeting room.
Croissant—who had just been treated coldly—blinked in surprise as she followed, then leaned toward Chen Mo and muttered,
"I was just trying my luck. I didn't think your name would actually work this well."
Chen Mo nodded, equally surprised.
"Me neither. I didn't realize my reputation could be used like this."
But it made sense. District 19 was close, and a gang-controlled zone meant constant fights and constant demand for weapons.
Even if Chen Mo wasn't technically a gang member anymore, he was still a major figure in the area. A salesperson treating him with respect was hardly strange.
After seating them and serving tea, the Feline salesman produced a form and handed it over.
"Please fill out your requirements. I will then select the most suitable options for you."
One look at the densely packed questions gave Chen Mo a headache. He pushed the paper back and spoke casually.
"No need for all that. I specialize in fire-based Originium Arts. I just need a longsword."
"Two requirements: good quality, fair price."
The salesman nodded without fuss. He collected the form and left immediately to make a selection.
Chen Mo had planned to use the time to chat with Croissant, but he barely managed a few sentences before the salesman returned—efficient to an almost intimidating degree—with a long metal case placed in front of Chen Mo.
"Packed like that… looks expensive," Croissant muttered with a click of her tongue.
In a transaction of this size, her "friend discount" clearly didn't mean much.
Under the curious gaze of Chen Mo and Croissant, the Feline salesman put on white gloves and opened the long case with professional precision.
A blade-flash so sharp it seemed to outshine the room's bright lights burst into view.
"This is the finest weapon we currently have in store," the salesman said solemnly. "A blade forged from extremely expensive D32 steel. A hilt carved from rare Leithanian timber."
"Exceptional durability. Smooth Originium Arts conduction. A pride of Raythean Industries—an unmatched, one-of-a-kind masterpiece."
He looked up.
"Only three million LMD, and it can be yours."
Chen Mo snapped out of his mesmerized stare.
Three million?
For one weapon?
He'd eaten more than ten bowls of noodles yesterday and the bill was barely over a hundred LMD.
Seeing Chen Mo's shock, the salesman quickly added,
"Of course, because the Hungry Wolves are currently our largest customer, you only need to pay 2.8 million LMD."
"Whoa… terrifying," Croissant breathed.
Her hand, which had been about to touch the sword, immediately withdrew. What lay in that case wasn't a weapon—it was a pile of bright-blue LMD stacked into a blade-shaped nightmare.
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