The Wetland Lizard-men and the Gray-backed Minotaurs were successfully integrated, and Lear simultaneously instructed Blando to rename the estate to Weilu Manor and accelerate its transformation.

After Blando agreed, he was in a cheerful mood and didn't linger much, leaving him to handle the remaining matters entirely.

These absolutely loyal troops needed no extra worry, just orderly arrangement.

As for the estate matter, the White Crow Commerce Association still seemed a little cramped; compared to this grand estate, it wasn't all that comfortable to live in.

Lear left Weilu Manor and asked the coachman to drive directly to the Black Market.

The current situation was unstable; it was best to secure the treasures first.

He had quite a connection with this underground trading place; several pieces of intelligence had greatly benefited him here.

The last time he came was when special intelligence was updated, and he bought the Silver Mask inside.

This time, he was even more familiar with the way.

Having the coachman park the carriage, he entered the Black Market, renowned throughout the Northern Territory, located within these ruins, by himself.

A faint black mist enveloped Lear, making him hard to see clearly.

After entering, he noticed that most people inside wore black gauze and cloaks to cover their faces.

There were quite a few, like him, concealing themselves with treasures.

But such individuals generally had a strong presence, causing passersby to instinctively avoid them.

Lear walked forward slowly, his gaze searching around, counting from the first stall... until the seventeenth stall.

Upon arrival, he looked up to see the stall owner was a man in his forties.

The carpet displayed old objects, yellowed wood, rusted bronze, broken bones, peculiar twisted statues...

But none of what he wanted was there.

Lear inquired, and the other party looked bewildered.

"Sir, I don't sell ores or anything like that..."

Was there a mistake?

While he was puzzled, an old man in a black robe with one arm slowly approached, carrying a large bundle.

As he passed the stall owner, ready to cross over, the stall owner immediately waved.

"Uncle Norton, come this way..."

The one-armed old man stopped upon hearing this.

His face showed a hint of mockery.

"What, after studying for a whole day yesterday, you still haven't learned? Is running a stall that difficult?"

The man smiled awkwardly.

"I still need to keep learning from you..."

As he said this, he swiftly cleared part of the stall to reveal an empty space.

"I've already reserved this spot for you..."

The one-armed old man's gaze softened and nodded with satisfaction upon seeing this.

He stepped up and slowly put down the bundle.

The stall owner immediately came forward to help and soon unfolded the bundle, first laying a black cloth on it, then preparing to help take things out.

The one-armed old man frowned and stopped him.

"Do you know what's inside? Do you know how to take it out, how to place it?"

"Kid, let me tell you, in the Black Market, don't touch anyone's stuff without permission."

The man's face froze, and he immediately apologized.

"My mistake, I'm learning, I'm learning..."

He quickly released his hand, letting the old man do it himself.

The one-armed old man, seeing his decent attitude, softened a bit and slowly took out fist-sized ores from the bundle, one by one...

After taking out more than ten, a pure black stone with traces of golden patterns appeared in his hand.

Lear, silently observing everything from the side, suddenly brightened his eyes and again glanced at the position of the other party, having a sense of understanding.

After the old man took out all the stones from the bundle, just as Lear was about to step forward, the man in his forties seemed to remember something and proactively addressed Lear.

"Dear customer, weren't you looking to buy some ores before?"

"The ores from my teacher here are all Dwarven treasures. Just last Wednesday morning, someone bought one and discovered a piece of Mithril the size of a pinky finger!"

"Why don't you take a look?"

The one-armed old man, who had just sat down and was holding a piece of stone in his hand, heard and looked up.

Upon seeing Lear, he paused and carefully examined him, feeling a vague sense of familiarity.

But the faint mist obscured Lear's face, keeping him from seeing clearly.

He had a unique keen talent: as long as someone bought something from him, he would remember.

Hesitantly, he said.

"Have you come to buy something from me before?"

Lear smiled.

"Before, you sold me a stone that you were playing with."

That 10 Silver Coins stone allowed Haggs, the Wetland Lizard-man, to advance to a Hero unit.

It seemed that the other party greeted him like this last time, too?

Hearing this, the one-armed old man almost jumped up.

Damn, the fat sheep is back?!!

Over the past six months, the thing he regretted most was a few months ago, selling a stone to that fat sheep.

A stone picked up by the river sold for 10 Silver Coins; where else could you find such a deal?!

Unfortunately, he realized he was scammed out of his money too late, missing the chance to earn more!

He couldn't believe he was back!!

His face visibly showed excitement.

But he still cleared his throat and suppressed his excitement.

In this business, you can't seem too eager; otherwise, it might scare away people. It's best when the fat sheep come willingly to be fleeced.

"So it's an old acquaintance, no wonder you seemed familiar... This time, I have plenty of good merchandise, all gathered from the Wilderness."

"You can pick for yourself, it won't disappoint like last time!"

This was true. When he returned to his old home outside the city, a few mercenaries happened to rest in the village, and he used all of 5 Silver Coins to buy these ores from them.

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