Chapter 41: Hungry Hell
The next day, the Merchant Alliance meeting was held as scheduled.
Many guild presidents and vice presidents attended on time—an impressive gathering of big shots from the Hunger Hell. If someone were to throw a bomb here, Cang thought absentmindedly before entering the hall, would it be enough to wipe out the entire Alliance in one go?
But he quickly dismissed the thought—after all, the Merchant Alliance was a massive organization spanning the 6th to the 3rd layers of hell. Hunger Hell was merely one part of it, and many of the “big shots” attending today were only vice presidents overseeing this particular layer.
Take the Jade Society, for example—their true guild leader was said to have already advanced to the 2nd layer. Even if everyone here died, to a true behemoth like the Alliance, it would only mean replacing a few gears.
This time, Cang came with only Zhan, leaving his other trusted aide behind to hold the fort. If he didn’t return, that aide would automatically succeed him as guild leader.
The moment he entered, Cang was met with the stares of the other guild executives—a rare experience for him. During his time as the Watchtower Guild’s leader, it was the first time so many major figures had truly noticed his presence.
“Our distinguished guest has finally arrived,” said Guildmaster Ling Le with a chuckle. “We really couldn’t start without you.”
“I didn’t realize I’d become so important,” Cang replied with a faint, knowing smile as he took the only empty seat. “After all, the Watchtower Guild is just a small guild that isn’t even qualified to join the Merchant Alliance.”
“Not anymore, since the day your healing potion went on sale,” Ling Le replied, glancing—half mockingly, half suggestively—toward the Jade Society. “No one’s managed to outshine you lately.”
His words were dripping with sarcasm, but Cang only kept a polite smile, refusing to take the bait.
Still, silence didn’t mean safety. This meeting had been called with an air of accusation—someone was here to put the Watchtower Guild on trial.
Sure enough, it didn’t take long before someone produced two pills—the Fasting Pill and the Healing Potion.
“This is the pill that’s disrupting the market,” the man declared. “It’s called a Fasting Pill. After taking it, you don’t need to eat for a while and even feel full—no longer troubled by hunger. I’m sure everyone understands what that means.”
The guild leaders and executives present had already heard rumors—and many had even bought a pack to test. The effect was real. Now, their faces darkened, eyes full of malice as they turned toward Cang.
For most guilds, food-related businesses were a huge source of income. Even idiots with no production skills could make money simply by stockpiling and selling food.
Now someone had created a pill that could make eating obsolete—essentially kicking over the table everyone was eating from. No wonder the Alliance was furious.
An enraged guild leader slammed the table. “Our investigation shows that those mysterious merchants are using the Healing Potion as a cover to secretly sell this illegal drug! Guildmaster Cang, do you have anything to say for yourself?!”
“Explain? Why should I explain?” Cang retorted coolly. “Were they selling it under our guild’s name? Are the sellers from our guild? They’re using our product’s fame for marketing—I should be the one demanding compensation!”
A senior from Jade Society narrowed his eyes. “You mean to say you knew nothing of this?”
“Of course not! We’re victims too. I thought you invited me here to discuss how to punish those breaking the rules—but instead, this feels like a trial. Disappointing. Why would I do something so stupid? They didn’t even give me a single coin from their so-called ‘drug sales.’”
“You’re really pushing it,” another snapped. “Don’t pretend innocence—this meeting was called because of you!”
Cang folded his arms, unmoved. “Let me guess—the one who organized it is probably Jade Society, right? You’re just trying to suppress us because your Red Potion can’t compete with our new product. How thoughtful of you, dragging everyone here to gang up on us.”
“Don’t twist things!” the Jade Society representative shot back. “This is a legitimate inquiry, not business rivalry!”
“Oh, really? Then your next move isn’t to demand I hand over our Healing Potion formula for ‘investigation’?” Cang said sharply.
That silenced them. Because that was their plan—not only to confirm whether the same alchemist had made both items, but also to get their hands on the formula if possible.
But before they could even bring it up, Cang had already exposed and flipped it on them. Now, denying it would make them look like bullies using the Alliance’s name to pressure smaller guilds.
After all, the Alliance didn’t belong to the Jade Society. If they succeeded this time, what would stop them from doing it again in the future to any small guild with a threatening product?
The other guilds, sensing this, stayed silent—no one supported Jade Society.
Flustered, the Jade Society representative tried a new angle. “Don’t slander us. The Healing Potion bears traces of alchemy. So does the Fasting Pill. Our suspicion is entirely reasonable.”
“Oh? Are you sure the Healing Potion is an alchemy product?” Cang countered immediately.
“That’s… not confirmed,” the man admitted. “But it shows traces—hence why further analysis is needed.”
“That’s strange,” Cang said, smiling faintly. “Alchemy isn’t practiced anywhere except Jade Society. If there’s really a need for investigation, shouldn’t we start with you? What if this is just the thief crying ‘stop thief’?”
Huh. The thief crying “stop thief”?
The room fell silent, and one by one, other guild leaders turned their gazes toward the Jade Society representative.
His face went red. “Ridiculous! Do you have any idea how many restaurants we own? Why would we risk everything like that?!”
“Enough!” the presiding chairman finally spoke, slamming the table to end the argument. “This is getting us nowhere. Guildmaster Cang, can you guarantee your guild had no involvement in the sale of Fasting Pills?”
“We had no part in it,” Cang said firmly.
“Good.” The acting chairman for Hunger Hell nodded. “We won’t demand your formula, but we will need a list of large-scale Healing Potion buyers, and your cooperation in tracking its underground distribution. Your people will also help apprehend the sellers of Fasting Pills.”
“No problem,” Cang replied smoothly.
“Excellent,” the chairman said grimly. “Then let’s proceed—find the rats who are sabotaging the market, and crush them.”
The meeting wrapped up without incident. Outwardly, Cang played the part of a cooperative victim, standing on the Alliance’s side.
When it ended and he rose to leave, the acting chairman called after him.
“Wait, Guildmaster Cang.”
Cang turned, still smiling politely. “Yes, Chairman Zhan Ye?”
Zhan Ye looked like a plump, kind-hearted man with perpetually squinting eyes—fox-like, despite his friendly demeanor. No one quite knew how someone like him completed dungeon tasks with all that fat.
“Nothing serious,” Zhan Ye said cheerfully. “It’s just been so long since we talked—I was starting to feel distant. My apologies.”
“Not at all,” Cang said easily. “You’ve been busy—especially with this mess. If it were me, I’d have a headache too.”
“Well, I’ve got you guild leaders to rely on,” Zhan Ye said with a grin. “You handled yourself well today—calm and sharp. The Jade Society rep’s face went green! I take it you rehearsed that?”
Cang’s smile stiffened slightly. “To be honest, we’d heard a few rumors beforehand. We’re just a small guild after all—if those big shots wanted to crush us in the dungeon, we wouldn’t stand a chance. So, we had to play a few tricks to survive.”
Despite his confidence during the meeting, Cang had been pressing his nails into his palms the whole time. Normally, he’d never dare confront Jade Society directly, but backing down would only make the Watchtower Guild prey to every predator in the room.
Still, outright offending Jade Society wasn’t wise either. But this was a necessary pain—no guild ever rose to prominence without shedding blood.
“I understand completely,” Zhan Ye said, patting his shoulder. “I’ve always believed in your guild’s potential. That Healing Potion is a great product. After this incident, I’m planning to recommend the Watchtower Guild for official Alliance membership.”
Cang’s eyes flickered, and Zhan behind him widened hers in shock.
Not every guild could join the Alliance. Watchtower Guild had never qualified before—they lacked a hit product and powerful enough leaders.
“With my sponsorship, Jade Society won’t dare touch you again. But…” Zhan Ye’s hand tightened slightly on Cang’s shoulder. “You’ll need to contribute more this time. Most guilds will have to vote on your membership, and those ‘rats’ outside are threatening their profits. If you help take them down, everyone will be grateful.”
“Of course,” Cang replied smoothly. “I’ll do everything I can—and report any leads to you first.”
“Excellent, excellent.” Zhan Ye smiled and waddled off to schmooze with the others.
Only when he was gone did Cang finally relax his shoulders.
Zhan muttered under her breath, “Old fox…”
“Zhan,” Cang said tiredly, shaking his head. “Let’s go.”
Once they’d left the Alliance’s territory, she asked quietly, “So what now?”
“Now?” Cang rubbed his brow. “We pull our people back.”
“What? We’re not helping them anymore?”
“We can’t interfere further,” he sighed. “They still suspect us. This ‘cooperation’ they asked for is just as much supervision. There’s nothing else we can safely do. From here on, it’s up to them.”
[Got it.]
Tang Mobai calmly replied to Cang’s message. Yan Wuzhen leaned over to read it and added quietly, “Don’t trust everything he says—especially the patrol routes and schedules. They might be using Cang as bait. If we avoid the traps too neatly, we’ll expose ourselves.”
“I know.” Tang Mobai smiled faintly. “Relax—I expected this. Our plan’s already in motion.”
Yan Wuzhen gave him a side glance. He didn’t mention it, but there was another possibility—Cang himself could turn on them, cooperating with the Alliance to stab them in the back.
Still, he didn’t voice the thought. He’d already reviewed Tang Mobai’s plan in full—it was detailed, professional, and airtight enough that even he couldn’t find fault.
Just then, someone knocked on the door of the safehouse.
Both men froze, then looked toward it.
“Who is it?”
“It’s us. We agreed to regroup here.”
Tang Mobai was about to open the door, but Yan Wuzhen stopped him with a raised hand. He motioned for Tang Mobai to stand aside, watching for movement outside, then pressed himself flat against the wall beside the door—a blind spot where anyone entering wouldn’t immediately see him.
Using a thin piano wire, he quietly pulled the door open a crack.
Fortunately, the people who came in were indeed the group they’d agreed to meet yesterday.
The blond guy leading them peeked around and said, “Wow, we added each other as friends before, but I didn’t expect it’s really you.”
Yan Wuzhen came out from behind the door, observing everyone’s expressions. Tang Mobai smiled and greeted them, “Welcome!”
“Yo, sorry to intrude.”
Coincidentally, the blond guy was the same person Tang Mobai had once traded with at the flea market. His real name was Jing Su — a naturally blond, lively young man who made his living in Lost Paradise by recycling and appraising items. He was also one of the first to recognize the potential of the viral “group-buying” social marketing model, and had actively sought out the Black Robes to join them. After rounds of assessment, he finally appeared here.
Besides him, there were several other freelancers who had also shown outstanding initiative and recruitment ability. Their backgrounds had been verified by the Watchtower Guild — trustworthy people.
Now that the Watchtower Guild members were about to withdraw, the task of selling the Fasting Pills would fall entirely to them.
“Let’s get straight to it — from here on, the sales mission will be in your hands. The profit split will be according to what we agreed on through the account,” Tang Mobai said seriously, extending his hand. “Welcome to Fuguang.”
“Uh… oh.” Jing Su wasn’t used to this kind of formality, but seeing Tang Mobai’s expression, he understood what to do and shook his hand. “Fuguang, huh… that’s a nice name.”
And it really suited the man in front of him…
Tang Mobai probably didn’t know, but Jing Su had actually watched his revival match livestream. Back then, he had just been surprised that such a weirdo existed in Lost Paradise. Other than that, he hadn’t felt much — at most, he thought this kind of person would either die quickly or be assimilated by Lost Paradise.
But unexpectedly, when they met again, not only had Tang Mobai not been assimilated — he was practically flipping Hungry Hell upside down. Or rather, on his way to flipping it.
Jing Su despised the guild system deeply. He knew exactly whose wool the Merchant Alliance was shearing. So even though his ability made him perfect for team play, he’d never considered joining any guild. His old teammates had all drifted away, leaving him to fend for himself.
He thought he’d be on his own from then on — but to his surprise, he met someone as outrageous as Tang Mobai. And not just that, Tang Mobai even created something like the Fasting Pill.
He was going to turn Hell itself inside out. How could anyone not want to join in on that?
Jing Su took a deep breath. “Don’t worry, leave it to me. I’ve been in the flea market long enough to know how the game works.”
*
The guilds reacted incredibly fast. Almost immediately after the Merchant Alliance’s meeting ended, many freelancers noticed more and more uniformed figures patrolling the streets — targeting and interrogating anyone in black robes.
But they were already too late. The black-robed sellers had vanished without a trace. They’d ditched their distinctive outfits, split up, and melted into the crowd like drops of water disappearing into the sea.
During the “group-buying” social marketing campaign, Tang Mobai’s group had collected many team leaders’ contacts. So instead of selling in person as before, they switched to an online model — contacting the leaders directly, agreeing on a code phrase and meeting point, usually at the flea market.
“Want some healing potions? Slash once and buy one, get two free.”
Hearing the phrase “Slash once”, Hubert immediately replied, “Boss, gimme two!”
Guild members were patrolling just a few meters away, watching warily — yet the sellers conducted business openly, exchanging goods and credits right under their noses. Of course, the “healing potions” were just a cover — everyone knew by now what was really inside the bottles. To maintain secrecy, each seller only answered to their own team leader, and each had a unique code phrase. Some used “red potion,” others used official guild item names — all disguises. In truth, they were selling Fasting Pills.
The guild members couldn’t possibly monitor every single transaction. Even if they saw someone openly consuming a pill, questioning them would only earn them mockery or scorn.
The other factions in Hell weren’t stupid either. Seeing the patrols, they instantly knew the Merchant Alliance was behind this crackdown — and once they realized who was exploiting them and who was helping them, they refused to cooperate. Some even started misleading the patrols on purpose.
As a result, the guilds’ progress slowed to a crawl. And due to the Hungry Hell rules, they couldn’t use violence or direct force. Not every guild had the deep pockets of the Jade Society, so most could only record names, blacklist them, and plan to deal with them later in dungeon worlds.
But they overlooked one thing — the wild-card factor: the freelancers.
No one wanted to stay hungry forever. Once you’d experienced the feeling of fullness, even knowing hunger helped fuel desire, very few would willingly return to starving.
And once a spark like that was lit, if you didn’t crush it instantly, it would grow into an unstoppable wildfire.
“Hey! You were selling Fasting Pills, right? I saw the trade!”
A Spirit Music Guild member, after a whole day of futile searching, finally caught sight of a transaction and practically bounced with excitement, blocking the man from leaving while shouting for backup.
Then — a shadow fell over him. He turned around to see the same freelancer from before — a towering man nearly two meters tall. In comparison, the Spirit Music member looked like a quail.
“Bro… what are you doing?” the big man rumbled, looking down coldly.
“Uh… our guild has a rule. We have to stop anyone selling Fasting Pills.”
“Says who?”
“It’s the Merchant Alliance’s order.”
“So what? Is this Merchant Alliance the law of Lost Paradise?” The big man picked at his ear. “Who gave you the right to stop people from enjoying themselves? Who the hell do you think you are?”
His voice was loud and booming. The Spirit Music member, clearly unused to being confronted like this, froze for a second. He turned, hoping for backup — only to find the entire flea market had gone eerily still.
Everyone was looking at them. Dozens of wandering freelancers, eyes full of anger.
They couldn’t attack — violence was forbidden in Hungry Hell. But sometimes, a collective stare could be its own form of violence.
Jing Su, who had been holding one of Tang Mobai’s stink bombs, quietly put it away after seeing this scene and slipped out under the cover of other freelancers.
The rest of the Spirit Music Guild arrived — only to receive the same cold, silent hostility. For a long moment, they just stood there, uncertain, paralyzed.
Once, their matching uniforms had been a proud symbol separating guilds from the unaffiliated.
Now, it was the clearest mark of who the enemy was.
And in the face of a visible enemy — for the first time ever — the scattered freelancers began to unite.
