One person: Senior Brother Zhang Zhiwei, who has mastered the Golden Light Mantra to its fullest lev

Zhang Yunyuan, meanwhile, leisurely stayed at the Zhao residence as an "advisor."

Whenever Zhao Fangxu encountered problems related to the world of supernatural beings, he would consult Zhang Yunyuan.

"Master, we found a shipment manifest from the West that mentions something called 'Ghoul Claws.' What could that be?"

"A low-level alchemical creation, made from corpses and black magic. It contains corpse poison and is not very useful, but it is cheap to produce in large quantities."

"Master, we've also been monitoring an account with extremely strange fund flows, which seem to be related to a forbidden technique called 'Flesh and Blood Puppet'..."

"That's a dark art from Southeast Asia. It involves feeding puppets with the blood and essence of living people to create them. The puppets produced are fearless and do not know any better. This art is against the natural order and has long been lost. I never expected it to reappear in the world today."

Zhang Yunyuan's answers were always concise yet incisive.

The profound knowledge he displayed, including many secrets that had long been lost in orthodox texts, shocked Zhao Fangxu and made him even more convinced that this "Master Yun" was definitely a core figure of a reclusive, ancient sect.

Feng Baobao, on the other hand, had absolutely no interest in these fighting and killing activities.

Zhao Fangxu's small Western-style house, a blend of Chinese and Western styles, is filled with all sorts of novelties that she finds fascinating.

She would either be leaning over the huge horn of the gramophone, listening to the melodious sounds of Western opera, or squatting beside the huge grandfather clock in the living room, watching the pendulum swing back and forth, sometimes for an entire afternoon.

Occasionally, she would imitate the servants of the Zhao family, picking up a feather duster and solemnly sweeping dust in the study, but her eyes were always drawn to the colorful covers of the foreign books on the bookshelf, finding pleasure in it.

In this tense and volatile atmosphere, only she, like a child detached from the situation, added a touch of comical liveliness to the somber little building.

Chapter 121 Passing Off the Imitation as the True, the Taoist Priest Cleverly Uses the Thousand Faces Technique

The power of the Tianjin guards and the Zhao family is immense.

Under Zhao Fangxu's all-out effort, regardless of cost, an invisible network surrounding the "Pandora" black market began to take shape in just two days.

However, the results of the investigation made Zhao Fangxu frown even more.

The organizational structure of this "Pandora" black market was far more sophisticated than he had imagined.

Its transactions took place in different locations each time; they could be in abandoned factories, in a mass grave outside the city, or even on a cargo ship sailing on the Haihe River.

All traders use code names and never reveal their true identities.

Infiltrating from the outside is virtually an impossible task.

There's only one day left.

The study was filled with smoke. Zhao Fangxu hadn't slept all night, and his eyes were bloodshot.

"No, we can't wait any longer."

He slammed the cigar in his hand into the ashtray, a resolute glint in his eyes.

"Conventional investigative methods are no longer effective; we must take a risky approach."

He raised his head, looked at Zhang Yunyuan who was resting with his eyes closed, and said in a deep voice:

"Master, I have a favor to ask."

Zhang Yunyuan didn't even open his eyes.

"I would like to personally disguise myself as a buyer, infiltrate the black market, and find out what's going on."

Zhang Yunyuan finally opened his eyes, looked him up and down, and a playful smile appeared on his lips:

"With your upright character and that undisguised air of authority, you'd probably be devoured alive before you even reach the door."

Upon hearing this, Zhao Fangxu gave a wry smile.

He was well aware of this.

He could imitate the greed of a businessman, but he couldn't imitate the ruthlessness and ferocity of those desperate criminals who humiliated others.

"Therefore, I would like to ask the Taoist priest to help me change my appearance."

He bowed deeply to Zhang Yunyuan once again.

"As long as we can get into the black market, I have a way to pass on the layout and information about the key personnel inside."

Zhang Yunyuan looked at him, pondered for a moment, and nodded.

"Fine, I'll go all the way with you."

He said this and stood up.

"Close your eyes, relax your mind, and do not resist."

Zhao Fangxu closed his eyes as instructed.

Zhang Yunyuan pointed his fingers together like a sword, and a wisp of barely perceptible chaotic energy quietly flowed around his fingertips.

He gave a soft shout, and his fingers flew across Zhao Fangxu's face, tapping, tracing, rubbing, and pinching.

Each touch carries a mysterious and profound force, as if a master sculptor is giving final touches to their most perfect work.

Zhao Fangxu felt a tingling and itchy sensation on his face, and his facial muscles and bones seemed to be undergoing incredible changes in an extremely subtle way.

In just a few short moments.

Zhang Yunyuan withdrew his hand.

"Alright, open your eyes and take a look."

Zhao Fangxu opened his eyes with some doubt and walked to the dressing mirror in the study.

The person in the mirror made him gasp.

He was a middle-aged man around fifty years old, with a sallow complexion, deep-set eyes, and deep nasolabial folds that could trap mosquitoes.

His triangular eyes gleamed with undisguised greed and shrewdness, and the corners of his mouth always turned down habitually, revealing a mean and gloomy air.

Where is this the upright and distinguished person in charge of Tianjin Gate?

He's clearly a nouveau riche who frequents brothels and brothels, made his fortune through speculation and profiteering, and exudes a money-grubbing and ruthless vibe to his very core!

"This...this is simply divine skill!"

Zhao Fangxu stroked his completely unfamiliar face, his voice trembling.

"It's just a small path."

Zhang Yunyuan said calmly, and then a change occurred in himself.

His figure blurred in everyone's eyes, as if shrouded in water vapor.

When the steam dissipated, the person standing there was now an old man with a hunched back, a withered face, and a goatee.

The old man was dressed in a faded old long gown, holding a small abacus in his hand. Although his eyes were cloudy, a shrewd glint would occasionally flash in them. He looked exactly like an old accountant who followed a ruthless boss around, specializing in devising schemes and scheming against others.

"Dao... Daoist Master, what is this?"

"As a big boss, you should have someone to keep accounts with you, right?"

Zhang Yunyuan spoke in a hoarse, aged voice.

While Zhao Fangxu was still in shock, Feng Baobao, who had been squatting in the corner playing with a clock, also staggered over.

To this day, Feng Baobao has not yet shed her previous disguise as a Taoist disciple.

Zhao Fangxu didn't even know she was a woman.

Zhang Yunyuan casually pointed at Feng Baobao.

Feng Baobao's figure blurred, and her Taoist robes turned into a drab, coarse cloth maid's outfit. Her originally delicate face turned ashen, her eyes became increasingly dull, and there was even a trace of drool hanging from the corner of her mouth.

The image of a seemingly dim-witted and dull-witted maidservant leaps into view.

Zhao Fangxu: "..."

He felt that his understanding was repeatedly refreshed, crushed, and then reshaped throughout the day.

It's possible for a man to transform into a woman?!

That night, at midnight.

Disguised as "Boss Huang," Zhao Fangxu, along with the old accountant Zhang Yunyuan and the silly maid Feng Baobao, arrived at the agreed meeting point—an abandoned dock—in an inconspicuous carriage.

A boatman wearing a straw hat was already waiting there.

After exchanging the password, the boatman did not take them away immediately. Instead, he used his cloudy but sharp eyes to look the three of them up from head to toe.

Zhao Fangxu's heart tightened, but he still forced himself to remain calm and perfectly portrayed the greedy and arrogant businessman's face.

In the end, the boatman's gaze lingered on the simple-minded maid for a few more moments, seemingly finding it strange to bring such a burden to the transaction, but ultimately he didn't ask any further questions.

"You three, please."

The boatman said in a hoarse voice, "After boarding, please put on your blindfolds. It's the rule."

The three did as instructed.

The small boat sailed on the dark Haihe River for an unknown amount of time, winding and turning, before finally coming to rest in an unnamed underground waterway.

They were led by their contact through a damp and long passage.

The moment the blindfold was finally removed.

Even Zhao Fangxu, who was well-traveled and had already prepared himself mentally, was still shocked by the scene before him and gasped.

This place is practically a living hell on earth.

The air was thick with the pungent smell of blood, chemicals, and an indescribable, despairing stench, all mixed together to make one nauseous.

Under the dim light, rows of huge iron cages lined up along both sides of the passageway.

The cages do not contain wild animals, but rather "people" with numb eyes and covered in wounds.

Some of them grew strange scales, while others had their arms transformed into sharp bone blades.

Others lay sprawled on the ground like a puddle of mud, their bodies still twitching slightly.

They were all extraordinary people treated as "commodities" and "materials".

On the other side, in huge glass jars, various bizarre creatures were still wriggling and struggling. Some looked like deformed insects magnified countless times, while others looked like stitched-together monsters of several creatures.

On the walls hung all sorts of evil magical artifacts that exuded an ominous aura, some of which still bore dried dark red bloodstains.

Countless buyers wearing various masks lingered and paused in front of these "goods," haggling with the sellers in hushed tones, their voices filled with greed and indifference.

Here, there is no humanity to speak of, only naked, primal transactions of desire.