“Mark Carter, fierce as his name suggests.”

“Mark Carter, that's a good name. My name is Grant, but you can call me Uncle Grant. The fact that you’ve come to me shows you value me, so I’ll take responsibility for your future. There’s a saying in the marketplace: believing in Uncle Grant is the first step to success. Young man, I can see you have great potential and will surely achieve greatness in the future. This sword!” Grant pulled out a broad, large sword, about one and a half meters long, with exquisite patterns and a very flashy appearance.

“The sword is called Overlord. Look at this design, this feel, these lines—every detail is the masterpiece of a true craftsman. Combined with your name, it’s practically tailor-made for you!”

Grant said enthusiastically, solemnly placing the greatsword into Mark Carter’s hands. “Channel your yuan power into it, give it a try. It will absolutely let you unleash your power to the fullest. Third-level strength becomes fourth-level, fourth-level becomes fifth-level. This is a real treasure, and today, fate has brought you to it. I wouldn’t recommend this to just anyone!”

“Mark, I think this sword really suits you. Why not go for it?” Little Sam rubbed his hands excitedly, as if he could already see the future where sword and arrow unite to dominate the Holy Hall.

Mark Carter gripped the sword and channeled his yuan power into it, swinging it a few times. Well, it did look pretty cool, but the energy conduction wasn’t nearly as good as the other guy claimed. He sneaked a look at the price—eighteen hundred. Damn, why not just rob people? What kind of treasure sword is this? Anything below fifth-level is the lowest grade of weapon. Why would a master waste time making this kind of stuff? Only Little Sam would be so easy to fool.

Although he was a sword cultivator, at the beginning, the focus should definitely be on the basics and cultivating life marks. Weapons were just psychological comfort. Mark Carter wasn’t in a hurry, nor did he want to waste money for nothing.

“Boss, we’ll look around some more.” Mark Carter put down the sword.

Grant was slightly taken aback. “Young man, once you leave this village, you won’t find this shop again. You should know, customers have been coming nonstop lately. Maybe as soon as you leave, someone else will buy it.”

Mark Carter smiled, “Uncle Grant, my greatest virtue is letting others go first. Wishing you prosperity.”

With that, he pulled Sam away. To be honest, he was a little tempted by the sales pitch, but it was clearly not worth it. If it were his own money, maybe, but if he was spending Sam’s, it had to be worth every penny.

The two continued browsing. Here were weapon shops, magic item stores, all kinds of messengers—everything you could think of. But after visiting a few, Mark Carter realized they were all pretty much the same. Of course, there were some good ones, but there was no need to even go in—just seeing the string of zeros on the price tags was enough to make them retreat.

What’s the most important thing for cultivation? Talent?

Sure, that’s a requirement for yourself. But for the cultivation process, there are three essentials.

First, you need money.

Second, you need money.

Third, you still need money!

Cultivation is the most money-burning activity in this world, with no upper limit to extravagance. It’s said that the children of great families can sleep hugging spirit stones, and drink spirit milk that washes the marrow as if it were water.

After wandering for quite a while, they found, at the end of the road, an inconspicuous little shop. The storefront was shabby, and it was tucked away in a corner. The name above was even stranger: “Sword Tomb.”

There are names like Sword God, Sword Sect, Sword Whatever—the more exaggerated, the better. But this name...

“Mark, let’s go. With a tiny shop like this, there’s no way they have anything good.”

“Not necessarily. In stories, the real hidden masters are always in places like this. Come on, let’s try our luck.”

Sam Bolton shrugged. Sigh, sometimes Mark is just too naive. But today, Sam was determined to stick with him, even if it killed him. They’d been shopping all day and hadn’t bought a thing.

As soon as they walked in, they saw an old man at the door, smoking and basking in the sun. Compared to the bustle outside, this place was deserted. The old man didn’t even bother to lift his eyelids at their arrival.

What’s the most important thing in business these days?

Service!

Sam quietly leaned over to Mark Carter’s ear, “He’s really got that hidden master vibe. But what if he’s just a scammer, targeting curious genius youths like us?”

“Let’s look around first.” Mark Carter thought at least one good thing about this place: it was cheap.

“Alright, I’ll follow your lead!”

The two walked in. The shop was cluttered with all kinds of swords—big ones, small ones, some with really weird designs. But they all looked pretty ordinary, nothing fancy at all.

Sam picked one up and swung it a few times. Didn’t feel like much. He channeled some yuan power into it—nothing happened. He immediately curled his lip in disappointment.

Mark Carter picked up a greatsword. He really did like greatswords—they were imposing. He swung it a few times; it felt good in his hands. The design was a bit lacking, and the appearance wasn’t great, but the inner quality was acceptable.

But as soon as he channeled a bit of yuan power, he found there was a lot of resistance—a major flaw. But glancing at Little Sam, he knew this guy wouldn’t go home until he bought a sword.

“Boss, how much for this sword?” Mark Carter figured it should be between one and two hundred. If it was under a hundred, his parents could probably afford it.

The old man didn’t even turn his head, just held up one finger.

“Here, that’s one hundred and ten. Keep the change. I have to say, old man, this isn’t how you do business. At your age, you should be retired.”

Sam generously showed his true nature as a kind-hearted nouveau riche.

Chapter Six: Twenty Percent Off

Unfortunately, the old man just waved his finger. “One hundred thousand.”

Mark Carter and Sam were both stunned. One hundred thousand???

This really was a black shop!