Chapter 35 Raising the Price on the Spot: One Hundred for Each Sky-Tiger—Because I Said So!

Zhang Chu lay on the tree, continuing to observe.

This money-making opportunity had practically walked right up to his door—he’d be a fool to let it go to waste.

The Five Tiger Generals didn’t stand on ceremony. The leader, Fan Chengcheng with his yellow headband, was the first to grab the leftover barbecue and start wolfing it down.

The juices and oil burst in his mouth with the first bite, sending his taste buds into overdrive.

After three days out here, not a trace of the Sky-Treading Tiger had been found, and the Five Tiger Generals looked like they’d lost a whole layer of flesh from hunger.

They were used to feasting on rich meats every day.

This kind of wild-cooked barbecue set their palates ablaze.

As they ate, they cursed and complained, the more they spoke, the more animated they became—as if they’d taken some kind of aphrodisiac.

Once they’d nearly finished, Zhang Chu finally put on a mask to cover his face, slid down from the tree, and said, “Really, do you guys have no shame? Eating my food, drinking my drinks, and then badmouthing me behind my back—so this is the quality of the Binzhou Martial Arts Academy?”

The drowsy Five Tiger Generals all stiffened, scrambling to their feet.

Fan Chengcheng swiftly pulled a tiny detector from his pocket, aiming it at the masked Zhang Chu.

If your blood energy wasn’t enough, you could always use equipment.

This was a martial artist grade tester worth eight hundred thousand yuan; it could comprehensively assess the target’s blood energy through thermal imaging, with only a one percent margin of error.

Ding!

Fan Chengcheng had originally planned to reveal his identity and play it tough, but as soon as he saw the test result—a level four—his legs went weak with terror.

“Master, we… we were wrong.”

The once arrogant Fan Chengcheng was quick to nod and bow, leaving his lackeys all dumbstruck.

Was this really the leader of the Martial Arts Research Institute?

Was this still that second-generation official who looked at people down the bridge of his nose?

But Fan Chengcheng knew all too well.

Out in a godforsaken place like Dangdang Mountain, to run into a level-four masked martial artist—if you got killed, no one would ever know who did it.

Most importantly, they’d eaten his barbecue and then cursed him behind his back. That was just asking for death.

Calling him “Master” was the bare minimum one owed to their own life.

Seeing Fan Chengcheng bow his head and admit fault, the other four threw down their barbecue at once, hanging their heads and barely daring to breathe.

A level two up against a level four? Even the best equipment wouldn’t help.

“So from what you’re saying, you’re here for a mercenary mission to hunt the Sky-Treading Tiger?”

With a thought, Zhang Chu summoned twelve Sky-Treading Tiger corpses, stacking them into a small mountain.

“Fan, that’s… that’s way too many!” one of the lackeys gasped, nearly suffocating from shock.

No wonder they hadn’t found a single Sky-Treading Tiger along the way.

This “Master” had killed them all—what was the point of searching anymore!

The Five Tiger Generals’ mission was, in fact, this Master’s rations.

“Master, name your price!” Fan Chengcheng, after all, was born into privilege and had been steeped in the ways of the world for decades. He immediately saw through Zhang Chu’s intentions.

The mercenary mission had been posted.

This Master had come to Dangdang Mountain ahead of them, slain all the Sky-Treading Tigers, and was now looking to sell them for a handsome sum.

If you could buy them with money, it was a small problem.

“Five hundred thousand apiece!” Zhang Chu raised five fingers, naming his price.

Are you insane?

When they heard this outrageous price, the Five Tiger Generals felt their heads buzzing.

“Master, you’re robbing us blind!” one of the lackeys couldn’t help but protest.

Even on the Binzhou black market, a Sky-Treading Tiger corpse without its core was only worth three hundred fifty thousand apiece.

Bang!

Zhang Chu said nothing, just threw a punch.

The nearest Sky-Treading Tiger corpse exploded, torn to pieces. “Now it’s five hundred fifty thousand apiece!”

Damn!

Fan Chengcheng was stunned, staring in disbelief into Zhang Chu’s clear, innocent eyes.

Was he really going to play this game?

Raising the price on the spot?

Bang!

Before he could recover, Zhang Chu swung again. “Now it’s six hundred thousand apiece!”

Another Sky-Treading Tiger corpse burst apart.

The mercenary mission stated clearly: six intact Sky-Treading Tiger corpses were required.

The most valuable part was their pelts.

With each corpse Zhang Chu destroyed, the Five Tiger Generals felt their hearts bleed.

“Master, give me a moment to think!” Fan Chengcheng was desperate now.

He’d seen this kind of tactic plenty of times.

But to complete the mission, he had to swallow his anger.

Bang! Bang!

Zhang Chu, perfectly calm, raised a fist and struck again.

The Sky-Treading Tiger corpses shuddered, exploded, and were torn asunder.

One tiger’s severed head rolled aside, its eyes still wide open as if saying, “Damn it, you’re so noble, but you still quartered me!”

“Now it’s seven hundred thousand!”

Looking at the terrified faces of the Five Tiger Generals, Zhang Chu felt a twinge of guilt.

After all, these were graduate students from the Martial Arts Academy, clear-eyed and pure. Wasn’t this going too far?

But then he caught sight of the eight hundred thousand yuan blood energy tester in Fan Chengcheng’s hand, and his resolve hardened.

Combating the wealth gap and speaking up for struggling martial artists—this was his duty!

Bang!

The force of his “Skyrocket Fist” was ferocious.

With that punch, two more Sky-Treading Tigers were sent flying, dismembered in midair, and landed in pieces around the Five Tiger Generals.

“Fan, we can’t do this anymore—there are only six left!” a lackey warned urgently.

“Master, I’ll buy them! Seventy thousand each, deal!” Fan Chengcheng quickly grabbed Zhang Chu’s hand, ready to pay.

If this continued, there wouldn’t even be six left to complete the mission.

“Latest price: one million apiece!”

Since his conscience was already lost to the dogs, why bother with morality?

Besides, this wasn’t exactly robbery.

What?!

The Five Tiger Generals cursed him inwardly for being shameless, but none dared show any displeasure.

This was black marketeering at its finest—a “black martial dealer” operating in beast-infested territories.

And black martial dealers were ruthless.

If things went well, money and goods changed hands. If not, lives were lost.

“Deal!”

Fan Chengcheng’s back molars were nearly ground to dust.

Six million yuan—enough to cover his entire year’s university expenses.

He took out his phone and paid offline.

Zhang Chu, ever the gentleman, even threw in some special barbecue seasoning and waved them off with a warm farewell.

After Zhang Chu left, the Five Tiger Generals realized their clothes were soaked through with sweat.

“Fan, we took a massive loss here!”

“I’ve got money to burn! Our real goal is to make the Five Tiger Generals Mercenary Team a household name in all of Binzhou!” Fan Chengcheng’s heart was bleeding, but he still had to put on a magnanimous front.

Storing the Sky-Treading Tiger corpses in their rings, the group quickly left Dangdang Mountain.

With just over three hours left until the mission’s deadline, they had to hurry to the Mercenary Service Hall at the Martial Artist Center to submit their task and bask in everyone’s admiration.

...

After leaving Dangdang Mountain, Zhang Chu’s phone signal returned.

His phone buzzed nonstop with messages.

The latest text was a bank notification—six million yuan had been deposited.

He did a quick calculation: after paying off the three million yuan car loan, he’d still have three million left.

And that didn’t even include the cash reward for completing the mercenary mission.

Near Dangdang Mountain, there was a bus line straight to Binzhou.

He bought a ticket, boarded, and drifted off to sleep.

Two hours later, stepping out of the Binzhou bus station, Zhang Chu stretched lazily.

“Move it!”

A loud, bustling voice rang out behind him, and a fat man bumped into him.

Barely regaining his balance, Zhang Chu watched as the Five Tiger Generals hurriedly flagged down a taxi and sped off toward the Martial Artist Center.

There was only half an hour left before the mission deadline.

They were rushing straight into trouble!

As soon as the Five Tiger Generals left, a Thunder War stopped in front of Zhang Chu.

Hu San jumped out excitedly, throwing an arm around Zhang Chu’s shoulders. “Brother Zhang Chu, say no more—tonight, drinks are on me. We’re not going home till we’re drunk! The brothers are all waiting for you!”