C8 CHAPTER8

The Black Vultures gang.

Felipe Ventura, the gang's third-in-command, fixed the man before him with an icy stare as he listened to his blood-soaked tale. The man had left a crimson trail from the doorway to Felipe's desk.

"So, they chopped off your arm along with the limbs of your worthless companions, and instead of perishing in some dim alley like an obedient mutt, you drag yourself here to bleed all over my floor?" Felipe's voice was as cold as his gaze, which now rested on the bloody stump of Scarface Jack.

It was unfortunate for the gang to face opposition, but there was no need for this crippled man to deliver such news; they would have learned of it soon enough.

"Boss, that shop's got some priceless stock—miraculous pills that make you stronger, faster, and can even boost your level," the man stammered.

"Have you lost your mind, or did the blood loss sap your wits? You expect me to believe a lowly shop in the slums is peddling wares that not even the high-end stores in the city center carry?"

"I... I personally verified the pills, boss. They're genuine. I thought they could help you level up instantly..."

Silence hung in the air.

"But the shopkeeper has this formidable battle pet... Please, trust me. If I'm lying, I'll take my own life. But if it's true... you have to avenge me and my fallen brothers."

Felipe had long harbored the ambition to break free from the constraints of a ten-star Awakened and ascend to an Evolved. His status as the gang's third leader hinged on such a transformation. Despite the absurdity of the tale, there was a sliver of possibility that it held truth.

"A pill that can level you up..."

"Boss, if we take over the shop, we can control the supply and strengthen our gang," Scarface Jack pressed on, sensing an opportunity. "This could be our chance to stand alone..."

He was cut short by Felipe's piercing look, a silent warning that he was no fool to be trifled with.

After hearing the full account and fixated on the prospect of leveling up, Felipe resolved to verify the story himself. Should it prove false, he'd vent his frustration by torching the shop—with Scarface Jack still inside.

"There's the shop, Boss," Scarface indicated with his remaining good arm. Though not yet fully recovered, vengeance fueled him, and he was determined to use his one good hand to snuff out the life of that accursed shop owner.

As the gang returned, the neighboring store owners couldn't help but watch the unfolding drama with a hint of satisfaction. None of them appreciated anyone who acted superior.

Despite Sam never having wronged them, their envy over his growing customer base and displayed power was an emotion they couldn't shake off.

"Kid, better clean your neck, 'cause The Black Vulture gang is here to give you a head transplant," one of them jeered.

At the sound of Scarface's bellowing, Sam glanced up at the store entrance and instantly recognized the newcomer. Just a few hours earlier, he had incinerated the man's arm.

Standing beside Scarface was a man with a serious, composed demeanor, clearly assessing both Sam and his shop.

One of the onlooking store owners let out a sigh. "That's Felipe Ventura next to Scarface Jack. He's the third in command of The Black Vultures. Rumor has it he's as cold and merciless as they come, never giving his enemies a shot at revenge."

"Don't think someone of his stature would bother with a small-time shop owner like this... Let's step back a bit. Best not to get caught in the crossfire," another cautioned.

With nods of agreement, they retreated to a safer distance.

"Welcome, dear customers, how may I assist you today?" Sam greeted them with feigned ignorance.

"You still pretending you don't recognize me?" Scarface snarled, pointing his stump at Sam's face.

"Truth be told, it's hard to distinguish one stump from another. We've severed quite a few arms this morning... My apologies for the oversight," Sam replied coolly.

"Son of a—" Scarface lunged, only to be met with a sharp slap that left him reeling.

"Everyone, wait outside. And do it quietly," commanded Felipe.

Dumbfounded by their leader's abrupt command, Scarface and the rest of the gang exited the shop.

Felipe's gaze landed on the Little Lion at Sam's feet. "A ten-star Lion, huh? That fool wasn't lying about there being a formidable battle pet here."

It was clear to Felipe that his underling had been oblivious to the fact that this shop owner was no ordinary man.

"Er... Is there something specific you'd like to purchase, dear customer?" Sam inquired, his curiosity piqued by this gang member who, unlike his cohorts, exuded the air of a shrewd businessman.

"What do you have for sale?" Felipe inquired, having dismissed any thought of slighting the vendor over something as trivial as a blind dog resembling Scarface.

"We've got the experience pill for leveling up—it's a level-2 pill and goes for just 10,000 spiritual coins," the vendor explained.

"To boost your genetic level, this level-3 natural product can be yours for a mere 100,000 spiritual coins," Sam added, gesturing towards a walnut.

"And over on that shelf, you'll find battle pet summoning cards..."

Felipe was at a loss for words. Despite having just learned about the store's inventory, he was utterly astonished. Leveling up? Enhancing genetic levels? Battle pets? These were luxuries typically reserved for the elite, yet here they were, within his grasp.

As the gang's third-in-command, Felipe knew his status was modest and his means limited. But as someone who had been a ten-star awakened for quite some time, he recognized an opportunity he simply couldn't ignore.