Lucien stood and stretched.
Outside—
night had already fallen.
Most of the customers who had flooded the shop throughout the day were finally gone.
The antique store had regained its usual quiet atmosphere.
For the first time since morning—
he could actually sit down and rest.
The appraisal show Jamie and Rachel arranged had undeniably changed things.
Not only had it increased the shop's popularity—
it had also created entirely new business opportunities.
Collectors searching for rare antiques often contacted Lucien to find sellers.
Likewise—
people looking to sell valuable items frequently asked him to help locate buyers.
Slowly but steadily—
a proper network was forming around the shop.
It wasn't enough to make him rich overnight.
But at the very least—
the days of sitting around with no customers seemed permanently behind him.
After finishing the day's paperwork and organizing a few recent acquisitions, Lucien returned to his chair.
He sat cross-legged.
Closed his eyes.
And focused inward.
A familiar notification appeared.
[Jade Purity Realm: 5%]
Seeing it—
Lucien fell into thought.
When he first obtained supernatural abilities, his situation had been simple.
He possessed power.
But lacked combat experience.
His methods were crude.
His options were limited.
Now—
the opposite problem had appeared.
His supernatural abilities continued increasing.
His techniques became more refined.
His combat methods grew more diverse.
Yet his cultivation realm lagged behind.
The foundation was becoming too weak compared to everything built on top of it.
It was time to focus on cultivation again.
Without a solid foundation—
even powerful abilities couldn't reach their full potential.
Lucien slowly relaxed his body.
His tongue touched the roof of his mouth.
His fingers formed a seal.
The energy within him began moving.
Flowing through his meridians.
Passing through muscles.
Bones.
Organs.
Circulating endlessly before returning to his lower dantian.
Many people would find such training unbearably boring.
And perhaps they weren't wrong.
Breakthroughs sounded exciting.
Progress sounded exciting.
But most cultivation wasn't dramatic at all.
It was repetition.
Accumulation.
Tiny improvements gathered over countless days.
Ordinary cultivators could spend years trapped at the same stage.
Some spent decades.
Many never advanced at all.
Compared to them—
Lucien's path had been remarkably smooth.
[You regulate your breathing and nurture your spirit.]
[Body Strength +1]
[Internal Qi increased.]
Every so often—
a notification appeared.
A small reward.
A visible sign of progress.
And because of that—
time passed surprisingly quickly.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Until eventually—
noise from outside interrupted him.
Lucien opened his eyes.
Only then did he realize something.
An entire night had passed.
He had remained seated the whole time.
Yet his body felt neither stiff nor tired.
Quite the opposite.
His mind felt refreshed.
His senses felt sharp.
His energy felt abundant.
Only one problem remained.
He was hungry.
Very hungry.
Lucien stood up and headed toward the kitchen.
After making breakfast and satisfying his stomach, he returned to the front counter.
Then he picked up a scripture and began reading.
According to his original schedule—
he should have gone outside and practiced martial arts.
Unfortunately—
recent business had become far too active.
If customers arrived and immediately saw him punching the air hard enough to crack pavement—
they might get the wrong impression.
As expected—
customers soon started arriving.
Thus his routine stabilized.
Cultivation at night.
Business during the day.
Scripture study whenever free time appeared.
Occasionally—
he even forced the accountant handling customer records to help organize tax paperwork.
Days passed peacefully.
One week.
Then two.
By the end of half a month—
his progress had reached a new level.
[Jade Purity Realm: 8%]
Meanwhile—
the popularity generated by the television show gradually faded.
Fewer people visited specifically because of his appearance on television.
Lucien had expected this.
The internet always moved on quickly.
New topics appeared every day.
New celebrities.
New scandals.
New entertainment.
Nobody remained the center of attention forever.
And honestly—
he preferred it that way.
Some afternoons became so quiet that he could even take naps behind the counter.
Life was peaceful.
Stable.
Comfortable.
Lucien found himself increasingly satisfied.
There was only one problem.
The hiring notice he placed outside weeks ago remained untouched.
Not a single applicant.
Not one.
This puzzled him greatly.
Was the salary too low?
Was the position too demanding?
Or did nobody want to work in an antique store?
Whenever business slowed down—
Lucien found himself contemplating this mystery.
Then—
the doorbell rang.
His thoughts stopped.
Looking up—
he saw a young woman enter.
She appeared energetic.
Confident.
Well-dressed.
Behind her came several more young men and women.
The moment they entered—
they immediately began wandering around the shop.
Talking loudly.
Touching random objects.
Looking everywhere.
Lucien observed them quietly.
No antiques.
No appraisal cases.
No collector's attitude.
No genuine interest in history.
Just from their appearance alone—
he could already make a rough judgment.
College students.
Definitely college students.
Compared to high school students—
college students possessed far more freedom.
Unfortunately—
their maturity rarely increased at the same speed.
As a result—
they often gained just enough independence to make terrible decisions.
Road trips.
Parties.
Abandoned buildings.
Haunted houses.
Internet challenges.
The list never ended.
And the group currently standing inside his shop looked exactly like the cast of a horror movie.
The kind where nobody survives until the credits.
Even without activating any supernatural abilities—
Lucien could practically see death flags floating above their heads.
Classic.
Absolutely classic.
"Welcome."
His greeting contained approximately zero enthusiasm.
One of the young men immediately looked over.
Tall.
Athletic.
The type who spent more time in gyms than classrooms.
He glanced at Lucien.
Then turned toward a chubby boy beside him.
"Is this the psychic your father mentioned?"
"He doesn't look very impressive."
The chubby boy shrugged.
"I only overheard part of the conversation."
"I'm not sure."
A brown-haired girl leaned between them.
"No way it's him."
She pointed discreetly toward Lucien.
"Look at him."
"He looks like a bookworm."
"A really serious one."
The only black student in the group nodded thoughtfully.
"Actually..."
"I think he seems pretty cool."
Though they were whispering—
Lucien heard every word.
Idiots.
A whole collection of idiots.
He was already considering throwing them out.
Then the blonde girl leading the group stepped forward.
Unlike the others—
she at least appeared somewhat serious.
"Hello."
"I'm here to get something appraised."
"Could you help me?"
Lucien studied her briefly.
Then nodded.
"Show me."
The blonde woman reached into her bag.
Moments later—
an old wooden box appeared on the counter.
A pentagram symbol was engraved across its surface.
The moment Lucien saw it—
his expression changed slightly.
A strong evil aura leaked from the box.
Ever since beginning serious cultivation—
his senses had become increasingly sensitive to such things.
And this object practically screamed danger.
Activating his spiritual sight—
he looked more closely.
Thin strands of black energy seeped from tiny cracks in the wood.
The feeling was unpleasant.
As though countless malicious things were trapped inside.
Lucien's eyes narrowed.
Then he looked back at the blonde girl.
"Are you sure you want me to appraise this?"
The question surprised her.
"Yes."
"Why?"
Lucien remained silent for a moment.
Then pushed the box back toward her.
"This shop doesn't handle things like that."
"I'm refusing the appraisal."
The blonde girl blinked.
"What?"
Lucien's voice became colder.
"If you value your life—"
"Put that thing back wherever you found it."
The atmosphere instantly changed.
The laughing students gradually fell silent.
Then Lucien looked at every single one of them.
His expression remained calm.
But his eyes carried none of their usual laziness.
"For your own good—"
"Leave."
"Go home."
"Right now."
He paused.
Then added:
"If you're fast enough..."
"...you might still survive."