The next day.

Rather than calling it morning, it's better to say it's a vague moment in time within Anvil Fortress, where the perpetually dim space is filled with the smell of cheap tobacco and engine oil.

Fang Qingyu was woken up by a bout of violent coughing and indistinct cursing from next door.

"Cough... phoo! Damn it, sleeping in this hellhole for a night feels like my bones are falling apart! Those damn neighbors were howling all night, how can anyone live like this?"

Chu Kuanglan's muffled complaints pierced through the paper-thin metal wall, clear as if ringing right by the ear.

Fang Qingyu opened his eyes. The small room remained dim, filled with the strange mixed odor of iron rust, sweat, and overnight rotten food.

Jiang Wei was curled up on the inner side of the iron-frame bed, her small brow furrowed, obviously not having slept well either.

Lu Jiuyuan's voice immediately followed, carrying a hint of helplessness, "Alright Old Chu, say less. It's just like this here. What kind of people do you think live here?"

With a creak, the door next door was pulled open, and Chu Kuanglan came out rubbing his eyes, just in time to see Fang Qingyu also stepping out.

"God Fang, morning. Did you hear last night? Unbelievable!" Chu Kuanglan lowered his voice, still filled with resentment, "This lousy place is worse than a doghouse!"

Wei Banmeng and Lu Jiuyuan also walked out.

Wei Banmeng's face was expressionless, only saying calmly, "Anvil Fortress, indeed every outpost within the 'Abyss', is pretty much the same. More than ninety percent of the people living here are not from the Federation's official ranks."

Her gaze swept over the narrow, dirty corridor.

Looking at those figures hurrying along, eyes either numb, greedy, or fierce.

"Some are 'field teams' of major Federation financial tycoons and top families," Wei Banmeng's voice was flat, "They are stationed here all year round, collecting unique and rare materials within the 'Abyss' for the forces behind them. Source Material Tides, those aberrant materials of Life Ghosts fostered by the special environment of the Abyss, can hardly be bought outside and are incredibly valuable."

"The others..." she paused slightly, a subtle coldness creeping into her tone, "are desperados. They pour all their merits, even borrow, mortgage, in exchange for a chance to enter the 'Abyss', gambling their lives to achieve a breakthrough or strike it rich. If successful, they might overturn their fates; if failed, they either die in the wilderness or remain perpetually stuck at the bottom of this outpost until the next 'Abyss' opens, or they exhaust their last bit of value."

"We can leave anytime; they... have bet their lives here," Wei Banmeng concluded with a matter-of-fact tone, pointing out the brutal survival laws behind this chaotic outpost, "So here, besides necessary transactions, don't easily trust anyone or meddle in others' affairs."

Chu Kuanglan and Lu Jiuyuan nodded silently, the resentment on their faces replaced by solemnity.

Fang Qingyu's gaze swept over the flickering-eyed figures in the corridor, without a word.

The five did not delay further, quickly washed up, and braved the murky air, passing through the noisy, chaotic trading area and the entertainment zone filled with cheap alcohol and the stench of sweat, heading straight to the deeper part of the outpost.

The Federation-established Merit Exchange Point was located in a relatively independent alloy compartment, cleaner than outside, but still exuding a cold metallic feel.

The uniformed staff behind the counter wore expressionless faces, yet their efficiency was commendably high.

Just as they lined up, preparing to exchange for resources and emergency medical kits needed to enter the Thunderstorm Cloud Sea, a young, trim-built man in dark green tactical clothing from the adjacent queue spotted Wei Banmeng.

With a hint of a smile of recognition on his face, he quickly approached.

"Wei Junior Sister? What a coincidence."

"Li Senior Brother."

Wei Banmeng nodded slightly, recognizing the other as Li Zheng, a disciple of the Celestial Spirit Martial Arts Hall.

Li Zheng approached, his gaze swiftly sweeping over the group, especially pausing briefly on Fang Qingyu, carrying an apparent inquisitiveness.

The smile on his face remained unchanged, but his voice lowered to a near whisper, speaking rapidly:

"Banmeng, be careful. Someone's targeting you guys."

After talking, without waiting for Wei Banmeng to question further, he turned swiftly, blending with the crowd and disappearing in the blink of an eye.

Wei Banmeng, Chu Kuanglan, and Lu Jiuyuan's brows instantly furrowed, their eyes becoming sharp, vigilantly scanning the surroundings.

The exchange point was bustling with people, yet no prying eyes seemed to be locked on them.

"Targeting us? Who?"

Chu Kuanglan asked in a low voice, muscles slightly tensed.

Lu Jiuyuan's eyes flickered, "People from the Hidden Dragon Plan? Or the old residents here? News travels fast?"

Wei Banmeng's face remained stoic, not answering immediately.

Standing beside her, Fang Qingyu's gaze calmly swept over the diverse crowd at the exchange point, finally settling on the outskirts on a few middle-aged men who seemed to be casually wandering, dressed in old tactical vests, muscles knotted, and skin embedded with Life Ghost materials, with obvious surgical scars.

At the instant Li Zheng gave his quiet warning, Fang Qingyu's Crisis Perception clearly captured a fleeting, snakelike cold malice from those people, locking onto their group.

The target was clear, it was precisely them.

"Not people from the Hidden Dragon Plan."

Fang Qingyu's voice was not loud, yet it clearly reached the others' ears.

Chu Kuanglan and Lu Jiuyuan were both taken aback, "Not?"

"Hmm." Fang Qingyu withdrew his gaze, speaking in an indifferent tone, as if stating a fact unrelated to him, "A group of Profound Level Modified Martial Artists, which organization they're from, who knows."

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