His own treasure—even the most renowned appraisers in town couldn’t figure out what it was. The young man before him, though rumored to have a keen eye and never once failed to identify a treasure, was so young—who would believe he could appraise his treasure?

Walking into the room, the man became even more doubtful that this young man could identify his treasure.

Those appraisers—didn’t each of their rooms contain all sorts of mysterious items to aid in their work, things he couldn’t even understand? This young man had some as well, but far too few. Many things commonly seen in other appraisers’ rooms were simply absent here.

The man’s eyes swept around the room, and just then, the young man’s voice sounded in his ear.

“Sir, what would you like appraised? Please show it to me.”

Hearing this, the man hesitated for a moment, but still took out his treasure. After all, he was already here, and since the other wanted to see it, he might as well let him.

A bead, about the size of a baby’s fist and entirely translucent blue, appeared before Mike Sullivan.

Mike Sullivan took the bead, placed it in front of him, and examined it carefully in the sunlight streaming through the door.

The bead’s color wasn’t the usual blue, but a very, very pale shade. On its surface, slender lines were intricately carved.

“Please wait a moment while I appraise your treasure.”

With that, Mike Sullivan walked into a side room. When an appraiser examines a treasure, they must not be disturbed. If someone interrupts them on purpose, at best the appraisal will fail; at worst, it could cause the appraiser mental trauma, even driving them mad or leading to death!

Mike Sullivan held the bead and entered the quiet chamber at the back, locking the door behind him. Staring at the bead, a stream of spiritual power flowed from his mind, like water, slowly pouring into the bead.

To appraise an item, an appraiser must use spiritual power to enter the treasure. If the spiritual power is strong enough, images of the item’s past will appear in their mind, allowing them to discern its purpose by watching these scenes.

Of course, even though it’s a matter of watching, appraisers still need tools. Even with the same item, the resistance encountered by spiritual power varies depending on the angle of entry. These tools help determine from which angle the resistance is lowest.

But with this spherical treasure, there was no need to judge—the resistance was the same from every direction, whether spiritual power entered from the front, back, top, bottom, left, or right.

Soon, as Mike Sullivan’s spiritual power entered, an image appeared in his mind.

In endless seawater, a figure with a blurred face—impossible to make out—held this bead and moved forward. Wherever he went, the seawater parted automatically.

“So it’s a Water-Repelling Pearl. This man is truly lucky to have obtained such a treasure!”

Mike Sullivan opened his eyes, walked out of the quiet chamber with the bead, and softly said to the man seeking appraisal, “This is a Water-Repelling Pearl. Within a radius of thirty feet, water will automatically part before this bead. Even an ordinary person carrying it can cross rivers and enter the sea, untouched by any water!”

After speaking, Mike Sullivan looked the man up and down again, marveling inwardly at his luck in acquiring such a treasure. Water-Repelling Pearls are exceedingly rare; among all the treasures he had appraised in the past six months, this was certainly one of the finest.

You’d never see a Water-Repelling Pearl in ordinary places—could this fellow have just returned from some ancient ruin?

“Water-Repelling Pearl!”

Across from Mike Sullivan, the man’s eyes suddenly lit up. He snatched the Water-Repelling Pearl from Mike Sullivan’s hand. Of course he knew its value—treasures with special functions like this were worth a fortune.

Seeing the man’s reaction, Mike Sullivan smiled inwardly. Over the past six months, as his reputation grew, he had appraised more and more treasures and met more and more people. He had seen many people just like this man and was no longer surprised.

Extending a hand, Mike Sullivan smiled and said, “Sir, the fee is one hundred taels of silver.” His appraisal fee wasn’t fixed; he charged according to the value of the item. The lowest fee was twenty taels, and the highest—one hundred taels—he had only charged three times before.

“One hundred taels? Kid, are you robbing me!” The man’s thick eyebrows shot up exaggeratedly. “You just took one look and want a hundred taels of silver? No way! Not even a single coin!”

“That’s not fair. Without my appraisal, you’d have no idea of this treasure’s value and might even ruin it by misusing it. It’s only right for an appraiser to be paid for their work. I’m not charging randomly—it’s based on the value of the item. If you went to the city for an appraisal, the fee would be even higher.”