“Black shop, black shop, why don’t you just go rob someone!” Sam jumped up; this was simply an insult to his intelligence.

Old Man pointed his tobacco pipe at the roof... Outside, the sign read “Sword Tomb,” but inside there really was a plaque with two big black characters—黑店 (Black Shop).

Mark Carter gave a wry smile. Old Man was just messing with them, but if he didn’t want to sell, so be it.

“Boss, do you have anything a bit cheaper?” Mark Carter asked instinctively.

Old Man slowly stood up, sizing up Sam and Mark Carter. “This Little Sam’s talent is barely passable—natural fourth level, archer potential. But such a fat archer has no future. As for you, you’re just average, really not suited to be a cultivator, and choosing sword cultivation is an even bigger mistake.”

Jason Bolton’s face instantly turned red. It was fine to talk about him, but not about Mark Carter. “Old Man, are you looking for a fight? Watch your mouth! My Mark is the new disciple personally chosen by the Sword Sect elder!”

Old Man was momentarily stunned, then sighed, turned around, and muttered, “The Sword Sect has gone downhill too.”

Sam was furious. This Old Man actually dared to be so arrogant in front of the Thunder-Lightning Duo.

“Forget it, let’s just go.” Although he was annoyed, Mark Carter wasn’t about to argue with an Old Man. In fact, after the recent Sanctuary test, he knew his own talent wasn’t great; what the man said was true.

But the more it was like this, the more Mark Carter refused to accept it. The more others said he couldn’t do it, the more he wanted to prove them wrong. If you live just to listen to others, what’s the point of living?

After leaving the shop, Sam spent three minutes forcing out a stinky fart—his poison gas attack. Damn it, a typical pretentious black shop. He cursed it to go out of business soon.

It had to be said, Little Sam could really hold a grudge.

After all that, Mark Carter lost interest in buying weapons and went to the messenger market to have a look. There were all kinds of little monsters on display, but Mark Carter wasn’t interested in spending money on useless things. Still, he did need something convenient for communication.

“Young man, how about a tiger demon? Look at those teeth—great potential for growth!”

Honestly, there were so many choices it was dizzying. Demonic beasts were fierce creatures living in the minor worlds; like cultivators, they could absorb the world’s energy, and some were even stronger than cultivators.

The weaker ones could be tamed directly and were collectively called “little demons.” They could serve as messengers, mounts, or even in battle.

But powerful demonic beasts were extremely hard to tame; only those whose fate matched with a cultivator would follow, and once they did, they would never betray. These were called “spirit beasts,” far more reliable than humans, but entirely a matter of luck.

Even the slightly better little demons were priced beyond what most people could afford. Mark Carter had legs and feet and didn’t want to waste money here; he just needed a messenger, so it was simple. The most common were sparrow demons, the ordinary kind among demon beasts. When Mark Carter said he wanted a sparrow demon, the shopkeeper’s burning enthusiasm instantly died—no profit in that.

“Take a look yourself, they’re all here. Fifty apiece, and just so you know, no returns.”

The shopkeeper led them to the sparrow nest, where dozens of little sparrow demons were kept, then went off to tend to other customers.

For Mark Carter, an easy-to-raise sparrow demon was just right. There were all sorts of colors and patterns, enough to make your head spin. But a sparrow demon in the corner caught Mark Carter’s attention.

“That red one looks good.” Mark Carter pointed to the corner.

“Mark, you’re wrong about that. The more colorful and bright a sparrow demon is, the better. This guy looks droopy and dull, probably got hurt when it was caught. Hard to raise, forget it.”

Mark Carter stared at the little red sparrow demon. It seemed to sense the stranger’s attention and glanced at Mark Carter with its small eyes. Though weak, its eyes were bright.

“I’ll take it!”

Hearing this, the shopkeeper came over and saw that Mark Carter wanted that damaged one. “Don’t say I’m cheating you—this one’s a bit injured. Twenty percent off, but no returns, dead or alive.”

“Deal!” Mark Carter agreed readily.

The little sparrow demon was handed to Mark Carter without a struggle. Mark Carter liked its eyes; just like him, it wasn’t scared at all by injury or a strange environment. Mark Carter was a man who lived by his instincts.

The shopkeeper hurried the two of them out—even forty was still money. In fact, he didn’t even know when that injured sparrow demon had appeared.

But as the little red sparrow demon left, the other sparrow demons in the cage suddenly became lively, chirping non-stop, as if they’d just sent away something terrifying.

“Mark, why’d you buy that one? Sigh, how’s this guy going to help you pick up girls? How about I make a sacrifice and give you Ball-Ball?”

Mark Carter shook his head. “No need, you two are a good match.” The little sparrow demon on Mark Carter’s shoulder, though listless, actually shot a disdainful look at Little Sam after hearing his scorn.

Mark Carter scratched the little fire sparrow’s chin. “This little guy’s got some personality. It’s really not happy with you.”

“Heh, must’ve picked up Mark’s attitude. Give it a name.”

Mark Carter thought for a moment. “How about Little Red?” The red sparrow demon on his shoulder rolled its eyes.