Following the directions the taxi driver gave him, Evan walked only a short distance before spotting a sleek, minimalist storefront. Its sign was crafted from a silver‑white alloy that shimred with a faint, shifting glow—four bold characters spelling out EvolutionTech.
Through the glass windows, rows of extract vials glimred with evolution light, each one a different hue.
Evan’s eyes brightened.
He wasn’t just here to sell the fourth‑tier extract—he also needed to buy a first‑tier one for himself.
With one more extract absorbed, he could finally attempt his first evolution.
He stepped inside. Two‑thirds of the store was dedicated to extract displays; the remaining third showcased supplents and a few rare artifacts.
A stylish saleswoman in a fitted blazer and short skirt approached with a professional smile.
“Welco, sir. Looking to purchase an extract today?”
As she spoke, she subtly sized him up.
Young, handso, composed—not the awkwardness of a typical teenage boy. His clothes weren’t branded, but the fabric and tailoring scread custom‑made.
Rich family kid, she concluded.
Boys his age usually ca in to buy first‑tier extracts or supplents.
But Evan’s first sentence shattered her expectations.
“I’m here to sell an extract.”
She blinked, montarily stunned.
“You… want to sell one? Of course, we do buy extracts. Please follow .”
She led him toward a door labeled Appraisal Room, then paused halfway, suddenly rembering sothing.
“May I ask… what tier is the extract you’re selling?”
Their store manager—who doubled as the appraiser—hated low‑quality first‑tier extracts. He bought them at rock‑bottom prices, and if Evan brought in that kind of junk, the deal would die instantly.
Given Evan’s age, she assud the extract wouldn’t be anything impressive.
Evan answered casually, “Fourth‑tier.”
“F‑Fourth… tier?”
Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that? You said… fourth‑tier?”
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Evan opened his bag.
Inside lay a vial glowing with deep erald light.
Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet—
green represented a Saint‑tier lifeform.
There was no mistaking it.
A fourth‑tier extract.
The saleswoman’s breath hitched. Her chest rose sharply, and a button on her blouse popped loose under the strain.
Even the lowest‑grade fourth‑tier extract was worth a fortune.
If she closed this deal, her commission alone would be astronomical.
Her attitude shifted instantly from polite to reverent.
“This way, sir.”
As she turned, she recalled glimpsing several small square packets in Evan’s bag—human contraceptive blockers.
Her cheeks flushed.
Rich kids really do grow up fast, she thought.
Evan, oblivious to the misunderstanding, followed her into the appraisal room.
The room was spacious but cluttered with machines. A chubby middle‑aged man in gold‑rimd glasses sat at a computer, completely absorbed in whatever he was reading.
The saleswoman cleared her throat.
“Manager, a custor wants to sell an extract.”
Without looking up, he grumbled,
“What is it this ti? Mole‑rat? Spray‑frog?”
Blackrock City was flooded with low‑tier beasts like burrowing mole‑rats and spray‑frogs. Their extracts were weak, their skills useless, and EvolutionTech had warehouses full of unsold stock thanks to this branch’s over‑enthusiastic buying years ago.
The manager’s career had been stuck ever since.
No wonder he sounded irritated.
The saleswoman hurried to clarify:
“Manager… he wants to sell a fourth‑tier extract.”
“What?!”
The manager shot upright, finally tearing his eyes from the screen. He scrutinized Evan, then the saleswoman.
“You’re sure?”
Evan didn’t waste ti. He pulled out the vial.
“Manager, right? Give a price.”
The manager’s gaze locked onto the erald glow like a starving wolf spotting at.
To him, this wasn’t an extract—
it was his ticket to promotion.
He sprang up with surprising agility for his size.
“Sir, may I have your na?”
“Evan.”
“Mr. Evan! Wonderful. I’m Shawn Miller, the manager here—just call Old Xu.”
He chuckled obsequiously. “What a coincidence, both our nas have two syllables.”
Evan gave him a strange look.
“Yeah. And we’re both n. Amazing coincidence.”
Shawn Miller didn’t even flinch at the sarcasm.
He turned to the saleswoman.
“Xiaoli, make tea. Use the evolution‑tea leaves in my drawer. And mountain spring water—not that purified stuff.”
Evan raised a hand.
“No need for tea. I’m in a hurry. Let’s get this done quickly.”
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