Chapter Twenty-Six: Loss or Gain

Looking at the ghostly skull tattoo on his arm, Fang Mu had already thought of several ways to earn the blood-stained copper coins. Although these coins were of no real use to him, something was better than nothing; it was an extra gain from his journey to the Ghost Market.

Iron Calculator beside him was envious as well. Land deeds held great significance for cultivators—almost every cultivator seeking the Ghost Market aimed for a shop’s deed as their ultimate goal, and he was no exception. The deed falling into Fang Mu’s hands was fate itself.

Yet he couldn’t understand why Fang Mu looked so disdainful.

Fang Mu sighed. A deed was a deed—better than none at all. He was about to accept it when a stream of light flashed by. The golden deed reappeared in midair, drifting away from Fang Mu and floating straight toward Iron Calculator.

This scene puzzled them both. Fang Mu was unsettled; rolling up his sleeve, he found the ghost skull tattoo on his arm had vanished.

“What’s going on now?” Iron Calculator was bewildered. Was it possible to retrieve a land deed? He’d never heard of such a thing; since when could deeds be taken back?

Fang Mu rubbed his chin, intrigued. The deed was his, but now it had reappeared and favored Iron Calculator. Who could alter a deed, if not the Ghost Market’s master? Clearly, the master had intervened—but to what end?

As he pondered, Fang Mu suddenly felt a weight on his right leg. Looking down, he was stunned.

A pure white kitten clung to his leg, gazing up at him with gem-like eyes.

Fang Mu: “……”

When had this creature appeared?

The white cat was tiny, clearly born not long ago—a genuine newborn.

“Meow…”

Sensing Fang Mu’s gaze, the white cat cried out pitifully.

Fang Mu: “???”

For some reason, Fang Mu felt an inexplicable sense of closeness.

A flash of golden light, and a golden sheet of paper appeared before Fang Mu—the original deed. But its contents had changed, transformed into another kind of contract—a master-servant pact with the white cat.

He was the master; the cat, the servant.

Fang Mu felt at a loss. Could contracts really change like this?

Was it one of those contracts piled high with clauses, only to mark in tiny print at the bottom right corner, “Final interpretation belongs to Party A”?

Changed, then changed—but what could such a tiny kitten do?

The golden sheet turned to ash and vanished, leaving no trace.

Iron Calculator stared at the little white cat clinging to Fang Mu’s leg, exclaiming in shock, “This is… a Ghoul-Eater Beast!”

“I know, do you need to say it?” Fang Mu, in a foul mood, glared at Iron Calculator, then suddenly realized, “Wait, what’s a Ghoul-Eater Beast?”

He’d come out hoping for good gains, only to end up stuck with a white cat—wasn’t this nonsense? But hearing the term “Ghoul-Eater Beast,” Fang Mu felt things weren’t so simple.

“This world isn’t just about us; beasts and plants change too. Ghoul-Eater Beasts are a form of beast evolution,” Iron Calculator explained with envy. “They feed on the uncanny. If raised well, they’re incredibly powerful!”

Feed on the uncanny—so formidable, and can be cultivated?

Fang Mu crouched, stroking the white cat’s head.

Iron Calculator scratched his head awkwardly, glanced at the new deed before him, and ventured, “Should I sign it?”

Fang Mu ignored him, continuing to gaze at the cat.

Iron Calculator, a little embarrassed, pricked his finger and let a drop of blood fall, choosing to sign the deed.

A flash of light, and the contract was sealed.

Iron Calculator breathed a sigh of relief; turning around, he witnessed a surprising scene.

Fang Mu was holding the white cat upside down, shaking it relentlessly.

“Speak—who are you, what’s your scheme? If you don’t talk, I’ll feed you to the fish!”

The cat swayed pitifully, crying incessantly.

Something wasn’t right—Fang Mu suspected he’d been played by the Ghost Market’s master. Who else could change a deed? What was their purpose?

“Not talking, eh?” Fang Mu set the cat down, revealing his Ghost Stinger, and threatened with a cold smile, “My stinger is sharp—one stab, one bloody hole.”

“Meow!” The white cat cried, and promptly climbed onto Fang Mu’s chest to lie down.

A strange sense of intimacy washed over him; Fang Mu was speechless.

“Brother, you’ve struck gold!” Iron Calculator stepped forward, full of envy. “Signing a contract with a Ghoul-Eater Beast—this is better than mine! There are fewer than ten discovered in the whole world—they’re a formidable ally!”

“Ally?”

“Exactly. If you nurture it well, it’ll help you in return. Others would envy you beyond measure.”

“How do you raise it?” Fang Mu asked.

“Feed it uncanny things,” Iron Calculator replied crisply. “The stronger the uncanny, the stronger the Ghoul-Eater Beast becomes.”

Feed it uncanny things—a nurturing process. It sounded so distant.

Fang Mu sighed, stood up, letting the cat hang from him.

At this point, there was nothing he could do.

Iron Calculator grinned, utterly perplexed at Fang Mu’s expression—why did Fang Mu still feel shortchanged?

If possible, he’d rather have the Ghoul-Eater Beast than the shop. After all, earning money in the Ghost Market required endless scheming and wasn’t guaranteed. Some predecessors had lost everything, pants included, and such cases were common.

By contrast, a rare Ghoul-Eater Beast had limitless future potential—perfect in every way.

“Meow… meow…”

The Ghoul-Eater Beast began to cry again.

Fang Mu asked helplessly, “What’s your name?”

The beast tilted its head, looked at Fang Mu with gem-like eyes, and meowed again.

Fang Mu sighed, “Forget it, I’ll call you Bai.”

According to Iron Calculator’s words, Bai was indeed a capable ally.

Feeding on the uncanny was simple enough—now it could become part of a perfect duo: one to loot corpses, the other to destroy them. Wonderful.

As for whether the Ghost Market’s master was behind all this, Fang Mu still couldn’t make sense of it.

Iron Calculator cleared his throat. “I’m Iron Calculator. May I ask your name, brother?” He stepped forward, seeing everything settled. “Thank you for your help in the brothel. I feel unworthy of this deed.”

Fang Mu answered without hesitation, “I’m Copper Demon of Calculation—pleased to meet you, truly honored.”

Iron Calculator: “……”

What a casual name—so casual it seemed fake. And it was their first meeting; saying “pleased to meet you” felt entirely contrived.

Fang Mu clasped his fists. “A name is just a code, no need to mind the details. By the way, how did you fend off that brothel?”

“I did divinations for them,” Iron Calculator replied, pride on his face. “They’re all uncanny, and their birth signs clash with mine—so it was impossible.”

“What about Ruyan?”

“She… is an exception.”

Fang Mu chuckled, “Too much is just too much—what exception?”

Iron Calculator wanted to salvage the situation, but at that moment, someone walked in from outside.

Fang Mu turned to look, his brows knitting slightly.