The Rat Cultivator

Chapter 154: The Red Refined Fire Snake Attacks the Market

Since arriving at Polong Lake, Bibo had fully leveraged the Beaver Clan’s ancestral talent for engineering.

On the southern shore, a sprawling trading hub had risen from the mud, designed to serve as the economic bridge between the aquatic demon beasts of the lake and the resources of Little Green Mountain. This was no primitive bazaar; Wu Yuan had personally installed a First-Tier Middle-Grade Spirit Restraining Formation.

Though not a high-tier killing array, its suppressive effects were potent. Any Early-stage Qi Condensation cultivator entering the perimeter would find eighty percent of their Demon Power stifled. Mid-stage cultivators would lose forty percent.

It was the perfect tool for crowd control—powerful enough to prevent brawls, yet flashy enough to display the profound foundation of the “Beaver Market.”

To the rustic local water demon beasts, who had never seen a proper formation in their lives, this was nothing short of a miracle. Most of them didn’t even possess a basic Magical Artifact, relying instead on crudely refined raw materials. Wu Yuan’s intent was clear: this formation was a warning shot. It told the powerful drifters that this territory was hard ground, not to be tested.

Since the formation lacked offensive lethality, it didn’t provoke unnecessary hostility. The visible security force consisted only of Bibo’s beavers, though silent rat demon assassins lurked in every shadow.

The market was divided into two zones.

The Free Trading Zone was a chaotic melting pot. Entry cost a single drop of Spirit Water. Here, vendors could set up stalls anywhere. It was a lawless frontier where scams, swindles, and deceit were tacitly permitted—caveat emptor. The only rule was the preservation of order: fight or damage the infrastructure, and the guards would intervene.

Those who broke the peace were arrested, ostensibly for “a few months of rehabilitation.” In reality, no water demon beast who entered the prison cells of Polong Lake was ever seen again.

For those seeking safety, protection could be bought.

Then there was the Core Trading Zone. Entry fee: one Spirit Stone.

Spirit Stones were almost mythical to the locals. Polong Lake had no mines; stones only formed rarely in high-density spiritual lands. But Wu Yuan had a steady supply, harvested as a byproduct of his Spirit Copper mining or scavenged by his rat swarm across Little Green Mountain.

Wu Yuan controlled the currency, and he controlled the goods. He purchased high-value items using Spirit Stones and sold his own premium goods—Spirit Rice, Spirit Copper, Purple Jade, and Purple Jade Marrow—priced in the same currency. He set the exchange rates on both ends. The profit margins were astronomical.

Security here was ironclad. Sentries stood every ten steps. Any disturbance was met with immediate lethal force.

The biggest draw, however, was Wu Yuan’s custom refining service.

If a demon beast could pay enough, Wu Yuan would craft a Magical Artifact for them. This caused a seismic shift in the local ecosystem. To a crab or fish demon beast, even a Low-Grade artifact with a single spirit circuit was a treasure worth killing for. For Wu Yuan, forging a simple spirit-iron spear or reinforced shell was trivial work, yet it cemented the market’s legendary status.

The economy of Polong Lake was unbalanced. The water was rich in aquatic spirit herbs but lacked basic sustenance like Spirit Rice. Demon beasts couldn’t survive on potent herbs alone—it was wasteful and dangerous—and hunting other demon beasts carried the risk of injury. Furthermore, crustacean demon beasts were desperate for Spirit Copper to harden their shells.

Wu Yuan provided it all. He accepted barter for low-level goods, exchanging Spirit Rice for raw materials at rates that seemed generous to the demon beasts but were pure profit for him. He was buying reputation with grain.

But the dark underbelly of the market was where the true efficiency lay.

If a demon beast brought a rare resource Wu Yuan lacked, they were treated like royalty—granted VIP status and access to techniques, cultivation methods, and high-tier spirit items.

If a demon beast had nothing to trade?

“We accept flesh. We accept blood.”

A slice of meat or a pint of essence blood could be exchanged for baskets of Spirit Rice. No one left empty-handed.

And if a demon beast truly had nothing left to sell… they could sell themselves.

“Sign the contract. Join us. Eat the finest Spirit Rice, drink the purest water, and never fear a predator again.”

If the demon beast had a useful talent, Wu Yuan would pour resources into them, turning them into a production unit.

The market was currently populated by a drove of naked Green Turtle Demon Beasts, wandering the streets and eating whatever they pleased without paying. A beaver assistant would quietly follow them, settling their tabs. These turtles produced Bibo Spirit Water, a resource Bibo highly valued. They were living livestock, pampered and displayed as walking advertisements for the “good life” under Wu Yuan’s rule.

Many desperate water demon beasts signed the contracts. Bibo acquired a stable of rare biological assets.

As for the useless ones? The ones with no skills and no value?

They found a permanent home on Wu Yuan’s dinner table, or were dissolved in the Blood Water Pool to ferment into fertilizer.

Of course, regarding the price manipulation, the slave contracts, and the industrial meat processing… Wu Yuan knew nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Wooooo—!

A deep, resonant horn blasted from the perimeter, shattering the market’s bustle.

Every demon beast froze. The beaver guards snapped to attention, staring out at the misty lake.

Bibo stood on a high observation platform, his eyes narrowing as he peered through the fog.

“He’s here.”

The water began to boil. With a sound like searing iron plunged into oil—chhhzzzzz—a figure breached the surface.

It was a snake demon beast, roughly two meters long and as thick as a human palm. His scales were a vibrant orange-red, covered in patterns that seemed to ripple like living magma.

However, the Red Refined Fire Snake looked wretched.

His body was a map of lacerations. Some wounds were still oozing blood, sizzling as the hot fluid hit the cool lake water. His aura, usually terrifying, was unstable and diminished.

Yet, his eyes burned with a manic, hallucinatory greed.

The Red Refined Fire Snake stared at the market, his forked tongue flicking out to taste the air.

“That beaver actually did it…” he muttered, his voice trembling with a mix of awe and avarice. “He built a real market. I should have negotiated a better split with the Winged Tiger!”

His paranoia twisted into delusion. “Perfect. This is perfect! It even has a defensive formation. Once I kill the beaver and take over, I can use this array to hold off the Black Water Flood Dragon Snake. I will raise the Sinking Gold Carp here… shed this snake body… become a Flood Dragon… and rule the Grotto-Heaven!”

The snake whipped his head around, locking eyes with Bibo on the platform. He roared, his voice laced with entitled fury.

“You damned water rat! You dare betray me?!”

“You withheld the tribute meant for Lord Red Refined! Your crimes are punishable by death ten thousand times over!”

The snake slapped the water with his tail, sending up a spray of steam.

“Open the formation immediately! Offer up all your blood food and spirit items! If you grovel, I might spare your miserable life!”

Bibo stared down at the raving serpent. The beaver tilted his head, genuinely confused.

“Is… is he acting?” Bibo wondered aloud. “Or does he actually have brain damage?”

“The Great King’s Ancient Xun might be more dangerous than we thought. It seems to have cooked his mind.”