Divine Convenience Store-Chapter 511 - 511: Surrounded?

"It is the way of the Martial World," Hu Gan eventually answered with a shrug, though his defensiveness seemed forced. "The strong eat the weak."
"And yet, you are here, hoping to eat my noodles again," Lin Mo countered smoothly. "Tell me, Hu Gan. How many of your brothers die each year fighting for a few ounces of Star-Forged Iron? How many manuals have been lost because sects would rather burn them than share them? Is that strength? Or is it just a slow, grinding suicide? There's a reason you've dropped the chase for the manual she's carrying, am I correct?"
Hu Gan fell silent. The question struck a nerve. The Crimson Tiger Sect was powerful, yes, but they bled. Every day.
Lin Mo turned to Ling Qiumei. "And you, Miss Ling. Your sect is scattered. You clutch a manual that you cannot even practice because you lack the resources and the peace to comprehend it. You are surviving, but you are not living. Your legacy is dying with you."
Ling Qiumei lowered her head, her grip on her sword tightening. "We have no choice. The world… is cruel."
"The world is what you make of it," Lin Mo stated. He reached into the crate and pulled out a can of [Heavenly Dew Soda], cracking it open. The sharp hiss made everyone jump. He took a sip, savoring the carbonation.
"And that's why I'm here to bring you all convenience."
—
Outside the Pavilion of Drifting Clouds, armed martial artists from the three major factions of Sleeping Dragon City had turned the street into a sea of drawn steel and hostile intent.
The Iron Crane Dojo, humiliated by the casual tossing of their enforcers by Lin Mo, had mobilized in force.
Their disciples, dressed in slate-grey uniforms, formed a rigid arc formation, their heavy iron staves thumping against the cracked cobblestones in an intimidating beat.
At their head stood Dojo Master Iron, a man whose skin looked as if it had been tanned in vinegar and beaten with rocks. His 'Iron Shirt' technique was rumored to be impenetrable by anything short of a siege weapon.
To their left, a chaotic, jeering mob of the Crimson Tiger Sect occupied the rooftops and alleyways. They were less disciplined but radiated a feral, bloodthirsty energy like Hu Gan before he got baptized by the Taihao Spicy Noodles.
Their leader, the Tiger Lord, sat casually on a palanquin carried by four burly subordinates.
He was sharpening a massive, curved saber with a whetstone, the screeching sound cutting through the tense air like a warning siren.
And in the shadows, clinging to the eaves and hiding in the blind spots of the other two factions, were the silent assassins of the Shadowblade Union. They didn't show themselves, but the glint of poisoned daggers and the oppressive feeling of being watched from a hundred angles announced their presence louder than any shout.
The ordinary citizens of Sleeping Dragon City had long since fled, bolting their doors and shuttering their windows. This was a convergence of the city's three kings. Usually, such a meeting would end in a bloodbath that would turn the gutters red for weeks.
Today, however, their curiosity and animosity were focused on a single point: the second-floor balcony of the Pavilion of Drifting Clouds, where the ruffian with peculiar clothing, who barged into the city without paying, edly entered.
"Dojo Master Iron!" A first-rate martial artist of the Iron Crane shouted, pointing at Lin Mo. "There! On the window!"
—
Inside the private room, as they sensed those marching footsteps stopping right before the establishment, the tension became thick enough to choke everyone except Lin Mo.
Hu Gan was sweating profusely, his earlier ferociousness melting away in the face of his own Sect Master's arrival.
Ling Qiumei gripped her new sword so tightly as if she were ready to draw it once the conflict started.
Luo Lanyi was frantically calculating escape routes that didn't exist.
In the end they could only look up at Lin Mo.
"They're all here," Tie Zha ed from the window, his voice grim. "Master Iron, Tiger Lord and I caught a glimpse of the Shadowblade's Union Master signal from the roof opposite us.
We are surrounded, Shopkeeper. Even if you are an expert... there are hundreds of them. And they have crossbows."
Lin Mo didn't seem perturbed. He was leisurely arranging the contents of his crate on the table, lining up cans of soda next to packets of spicy noodles like a merchant setting up a stall at a festival.
"Crossbows? How quaint." Lin Mo murmured, checking the label on a packet of [Energy Replenishing Candy]. The pantheon issued new flavors of other fruits. He was afraid that he had brought a tamarind one.
"Tell me, Miss Luo. In this city, who handles the logistics? Who cleans the streets? Who ensures the food is fresh?"
Luo Lanyi blinked, thrown off by the mundane question. "Uhm... no one, Shopkeeper. The factions take what they want. The streets are cleaned by the rain. The food... the quality is low and only those with money can see meat on their plates. Shops like what our Merchant House opened only exist because we pay."
"I see. Inefficient. Unsanitary. And highly inconvenient," Lin Mo shook his head with a sigh of genuine disappointment. He dusted off his hands and walked towards the balcony doors. "It seems I have to conduct a little... urban redevelopment."
"Huh? Urban redevelopment? Wait… Senior! You can't just go out there!" Ling Qiumei cried out, stepping forward. "They will fire upon you the moment you show your face! Let me go. I can distract them while you–"
"Miss Ling," Lin Mo interrupted. He looked back at her, a confident smile playing on his lips. "You've already fought enough for one lifetime. Today, you are a customer. And in the Divine Convenience Store, the customer's only job is to be satisfied."
He pushed open the balcony doors and stepped out into the dim sunlight as a roar of hostility greeted him.
"There he is! The intruder!"
"Kill the intruder!"
"Break his legs!"
Hundreds of weapons were raised. Crossbows clicked into place, aimed directly at his chest.
Dojo Master Iron stepped forward as he stomped his heavy staff, cracking the pavement even further. "You! Whatever you are, state your business in our city and which faction you belong to! You dare walk into my city without paying tribute? Do you know how much we're working to keep this place livable?!"
On his palanquin, the Tiger Lord stopped sharpening his saber. He stood up, a towering figure of muscle and scars. He's like that kind of hermit you'd see in a forest fighting a bear. His Peak-Stage aura was enough to overwhelm most of the martial artists around him.
"Forget the tribute, Iron. I want his head. And whatever is in that crate he's carrying. My boys say it smells like heaven."
From the shadows, a fleeting whisper echoed, seemingly coming from everywhere at once. "The Shadowblade Union claims his secrets. Leave the body. We will take the rest."
Seeing this scene and hearing those words would make any sane martial artist wet themselves but to Lin Mo, it felt like he had truly arrived in one of those lively cities in a wuxia period drama.
After all, the spectacle was quite complete. Just that, he's still missing those shameless young masters screaming about their influential fathers to complete the stereotypical painting of a wuxia conflict.
Lin Mo rested his hands on the railing, looking down at the gathered armies with the air of a disappointed schoolteacher surveying a rowdy playground.
"Greetings, dear customers. May I ask what you are screaming down there? As you can see, I am trying to conduct a business meeting here."
With a shameless smile, Lin Mo's voice floated down, soft yet carrying an undeniable weight that silenced the jeering mob.
He amplified it with a trace of spiritual energy, ensuring every assassin in the shadows and every thug on the roof heard him clearly.
Dojo Master Iron stepped forward, his heavy iron staff cracking the pavement. "What the hell are you talking about? You dared to claim you're conducting a business?! You are the outsider who humiliated my disciples! I am Iron Pan, master of the Iron Crane. Come down and kowtow, break your own arms, and perhaps I will leave your corpse intact!"
From the palanquin, the Tiger Lord let out a raucous laugh, standing up and revealing his towering height. "Iron Pan, you old fool, always so dramatic. I am here for something else." He pointed his massive saber at Hu Gan, who flinched instinctively. "Hu Gan! You traitorous dog! You return empty-handed and consort with outsiders? Isn't that the girl from the Silent Rain Sect? Throw down the girl's manual and the head of that man, and I might let you rejoin as a latrine cleaner!"
Then, from behind him, the two subordinates who accompanied Hu Gan back then tried to say something. Unfortunately, they were silenced by being pulled behind.
As for the Shadowblade Union, they remained silent, but the killing intent in the air sharpened, focusing on Lin Mo's throat.
Lin Mo sighed and shook his head. Truly, it was quite regrettable for him not to find a young master here. After all, in the Eastern Abyssal Region, Yan Wei and Jin Bao failed to check all the boxes to be truly called an arrogant young master.