Crow Immortal: I Can Duplicate Infinite Resources

In Haojing, the capital city of the Great Zhou Dynasty, the morning mist still clung to the main streets, yet the markets were already boiling with life.

The bluestone roads, polished to a mirror sheen by millions of passing soles, echoed with the rhythm of a waking city. Shouldering poles laden with dew-fresh vegetables brushed against mule carts piled high with silk, while the jingling of copper bells on carriage shafts fought for dominance against the hawkers’ cries.

The scent of steamed buns and tea mingled with the salty tang of sweat, creating a rich, suffocating atmosphere of mortal prosperity.

Gong! Gong! Gong!

Three sharp strikes shattered the noise. The clamor was choked off as if by an invisible hand, the bustling street freezing into dead silence.

Rows of Imperial Guards in black armor lined the streets like a wall of steel, their banners snapping in the morning wind. Behind them came a dragon-headed carriage draped in pearl tassels. Through the swaying beads, a vaguely immense, fleshy silhouette could be seen slumped within.

Palace maids scurried alongside with small, anxious steps, holding eaglewood censers, while eunuchs walked with heads bowed and hands clasped, their fear palpable even from a distance.

As the carriage rumbled past and the guards closed ranks behind it, the tide of humanity slowly began to flow again.

“Is that the Crown Prince’s carriage?”

“Shh! Yes, the Crown Prince…”

Whispers rippled through the crowd before dying out just as quickly.

Standing amidst the commoners, a middle-aged man with a long, horse-like face watched the procession with a faint, cynical smile.

He had walked this mortal world for many years, witnessing its wealth and splendor until it bored him. What was all this? Dust in the wind.

Now that he had reached Foundation Establishment, he had at least another hundred and seventy years of life. How could these ants, with their fleeting decades, compare to the freedom of the Cultivation path?

A pity, he thought, his smile fading. My aptitude was too poor. I had no choice but to walk the heretical path. And now, there is no turning back.

His throat began to burn. A familiar, maddening thirst clawed at the back of his mouth. Old Daoist Li knew the signs. It was time for Blood Food.

He turned away from the crowd and slipped into a narrow, shadowed alley, intending to hunt for a victim to suppress the craving. But after only a few steps, the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

He whirled around.

“Sir, why are you following me instead of the Crown Prince?”

At the mouth of the alley stood a teenage boy, smiling pleasantly.

“Those who should follow him have already gone,” the boy said, his voice smooth but odd. “But seeing a Fellow Daoist in such a place… I couldn’t help but be curious.”

Old Daoist Li narrowed his eyes. He sniffed the air.

“No human scent. You are a puppet? Or rather… where is your true body hiding?”

“Hehe. A businessman never reveals his location,” the puppet replied, its jaw moving with a slight mechanical stiffness. “Otherwise, how could I trade with peace of mind?”

Old Daoist Li didn’t relax his stance. “Business? I’ve heard rumors of traveling merchants in the Southern Domain who journey north and south, even crossing into the Central Heaven Domain. Are you one of them?”

“Correct. I am.”

“I have nothing to buy. If you’re looking for a customer, you’ve found the wrong person.” Old Daoist Li’s muscles tensed, his Blood Escape Technique primed and ready to trigger.

The puppet chuckled. “No, I don’t think I have.”

It took a step forward. “I recently finished a transaction with a righteous sect disciple. He was so polite, so moral. He didn’t try to double-cross me, didn’t try to kill me to seize my treasures, didn’t even want to slaughter innocents. Frankly… it made me uncomfortable.”

The puppet’s painted eyes seemed to gleam. “Only when meeting a Fellow Daoist like you, a true traveler of the demonic path, do I feel the world is back to normal.”

“Fellow Daoist, do you need the essence blood of the living? I have cultivators’ essence blood in stock. Or perhaps a Disguise Pill to hide from prying eyes? I can sell you a bottle or two right now.”

Old Daoist Li’s heart skipped a beat. Essence blood was exactly what he needed. And a Disguise Pill…

Even at Foundation Establishment, hiding from righteous pursuers was a constant headache. A pill would allow him to blend into the Black Mountain Market, maybe even settle down and hunt bandits to feed his hunger without drawing attention.

But this merchant was dangerous. Li didn’t dare trust him. He refused to become the fish on another man’s chopping block.

“The items you mention are tempting,” Li said slowly. “But I have no Spirit Stones to pay you.”

“No matter, no matter,” the puppet said, waving a stiff hand. “In my shop, anything can be currency.”

“We can trade for items in your Storage Bag. Or the bag itself. If you’re unwilling to part with those, you can trade with your own body.”

The puppet tilted its head. “Your own essence blood is a valuable commodity. Or perhaps your service? A Foundation Establishment bodyguard for a year or two… that is a fair trade.”

The offer made Li’s skin crawl. “My blood is not for sale, and I serve no one,” he growled. “If you want Demonic Sect techniques, however… I might have some to trade.”

The puppet laughed. “No need. My collection of demonic arts is far more complete than yours. In fact, if you want some, I can sell them to you at a discount.”

Li paused. “What about techniques from the Spirit Beast Sect?”

The puppet nodded. “Tell me what you have. If I don’t have it in stock, I will pay a high price.”

Old Daoist Li hesitated, then pulled out five Jade Slips.

The puppet laughed delightedly. “Fellow Daoist, why be so secretive? The Spirit Beast Sect colluded with you demonic cultivators, and you managed to escape the four-sect encirclement alive. You must have looted quite a bit from their vaults. It seems we have a very large business deal to make!”

Li didn’t confirm the guess. “I was merely fortunate.”

“There is no need to be so wary,” the puppet said soothingly. “I have a principle: if others do not harm me, I will never harm them. I only want to complete the transaction.”

“And if they do?”

“If they do?”

The puppet sighed, a sound that seemed to rattle in its wooden chest. It turned its head toward the Eastern Palace.

“Would you like to see, Fellow Daoist? Today is a perfect demonstration.”

Old Daoist Li tensed, suspecting an ambush. He had no reason to trust this thing.

“I kept my promise for two years,” the puppet continued, ignoring Li’s suspicion. “Even though my client was a terminally ill mortal, I never forced him, never controlled him. But the moment the transaction was complete, this fool tried to kill me to silence me.”

“He wants to keep his secret. But since he broke the rules first, he cannot blame me for taking what is mine.”

The puppet’s voice turned cold. “The one trying to kill me is the Crown Prince, Ji Ruyi. The boy secretly collected cultivation techniques but practiced them wrong, destroying his body’s Five Elements balance. He traded with me for a secret technique fragment from the Central Heaven Domain, promising me the rights to the dynasty’s Spirit-Taming Ironwood.”

“I knew he was greedy—wanting to be both Emperor and Immortal. But for him to turn so heartless, thinking he could erase me…”

The puppet shook its head. “Laughable.”

BOOM!

A massive explosion tore through the heart of Haojing. The ground beneath their feet trembled. Screams erupted from the direction of the Eastern Palace as smoke began to rise.

The puppet waited quietly for the echoes to fade.

“Although the employer is dead, the transaction is… acceptable.”

It turned back to Old Daoist Li, its painted smile unchanged.

“So, Fellow Daoist. Do you wish to trade?”

Old Daoist Li looked at the burning palace, then back at the polite, sociopathic puppet. He knew that his next words would likely decide whether he lived or died.

He took a breath.

“Alright.”