I Arrived At Wizard World While Cultivating Immortality Chapter 643: After-Sales Service, Gifted Book, and the Approaching Turmoil

Jie Ming made his way back to the old district, a faint hint of regret accompanying him.

The persistent gazes that had been fixed upon him earlier followed him for three streets, weaving through two intersections and past a gas lamp tower, only to abruptly dissipate at the turn onto Seventh Street. Though he didn't look back, his spiritual power ascertained the reason for their disappearance.

The two individuals who had intervened to resolve the “trouble” for him were familiar faces—the pair recently on duty at the Spirit Medium Association.

Emerging from a shadowy alley, their movements were precise and swift, devoid of any wasted action. The would-be ambushers of Jie Ming didn't even get a chance to retaliate. Only a few fleeting, muffled sounds echoed, and then the unsettling attention fixed on his back vanished piece by piece.

However, those unfortunate souls weren't killed. It appeared they had been taken away instead.

Jie Ming's passive perception could readily distinguish between the cessation of life signs and their relocation.

After dealing with the final individual, the two from the Spirit Medium Association made no move to approach Jie Ming, nor did they linger.

He sensed their stares rest upon his back for a brief moment. Once they confirmed he was unharmed and the threat neutralized, they melted back into the dark alley, disappearing into the dense fog of Mist Capital.

To be candid, a trace of regret lingered in his heart.

He had already been mentally preparing to acquire new experimental subjects.

The individuals tailing him harbored malicious intent, viewing him as an easy target. Such resources, if managed skillfully, could resolve the immediate danger while simultaneously yielding new samples for his research.

His mind had even outlined several potential plans: the precise amount of force to employ, the degree of control to maintain, ensuring minimal disruption and avoiding the attention of the Spirit Medium Association.

Yet, in the end, the two operatives from the Spirit Medium Association had stepped in midway.

Furthermore, their intervention was remarkably efficient. They had acted before the opposing party could make their move, rather than waiting to intervene and clean up afterward.

Consequently, Jie Ming had to reluctantly abandon these soon-to-be acquired experimental subjects.

Jie Ming’s pace remained unbroken. He proceeded as if entirely oblivious to the preceding events, calmly traversing the stone-slab path of the old district and pushing open the weathered wooden door of the used bookstore.

The door hinge let out its customary groan.

The oil lamp still burned, its flame dancing gently in the subtle breeze, precisely as it had been when he departed mere hours before.

Eric, however, was nowhere in sight.

“This young fellow…”

Jie Ming’s spiritual power instantly detected Eric’s location and activity. He offered a helpless shake of his head.

He settled into the rocking chair. The rhythmic creaking of the wooden floorboards was particularly distinct in the quiet interior.

“Still… the Spirit Medium Association is surprisingly diligent and responsible in maintaining order. It’s no wonder they’ve managed to preserve human society in this realm amidst the chaos wrought by so many Stranges.”

This level of dedication was not feigned, nor was it merely for appearances.

Jie Ming leaned back in the rocking chair, swaying gently.

He felt no anger, only a mild sense of disappointment.

However, those “experimental subjects” had been a fleeting notion. If they were gone, they were gone. He possessed no shortage of research materials.

Moreover, it was highly probable he would encounter those two from the Spirit Medium Association again in the future. Since they had already taken notice of him, maintaining a degree of discretion and restraint was essential.

Thus, he chose to feign ignorance and regretfully forgo capturing those soon-to-be acquired “experimental subjects.”

It could be considered a gesture of good faith.

“Boss? You’re back?”

Eric’s voice emanated from the direction of the staircase.

Jie Ming turned his head, spotting the young man descending from the second floor.

He carried a spool of black electrical wire, his expression a blend of fatigue and contentment after a full day’s labor.

“The electricians came by. I just had them finish running the new wires,” Eric explained, gesturing towards the newly installed wiring along the junction where the ceiling met the wall. “They used exposed conduits and avoided damaging the walls. I informed them that this is an old structure and the walls aren't particularly stable, so extensive work could lead to problems. Therefore, they routed the wires along the corners and concealed them with conduits. It looks quite presentable.”

Jie Ming tilted his head upward.

The dark conduits were arranged neatly along the ceiling-wall interface. Elbow fittings were used for the corners, and the connections were securely wrapped with tape. The work had indeed been executed with meticulous care.

“They installed two light fixtures—one near the entrance and another above the bookshelves.” Eric moved towards the door and tugged on the dangling switch cord. “Have a look.”

The light bulbs flickered to life.

The stark white light far surpassed the dim, orange-yellow radiance of the oil lamp, instantly bathing the entire room in brilliance. Colors of old books lining the shelves, previously muted, now stood out vividly. Even the corners of the floor, long untouched by the lamp’s limited reach, were clearly illuminated.

“How is it?” Eric inquired.

“Not bad,” Jie Ming replied, nodding. He rose from the rocking chair, extracted several silver coins from his pocket, and offered them.

“However, I didn’t anticipate you handling this yourself… Consider this payment for minding the shop today as well.”

Eric’s gaze flickered over the silver coins, but he made no move to take them. “Can I…?” he began, a hint of hesitation in his voice. “Ask for something else instead?”

Jie Ming regarded him with a patient look.

“I don’t mean to refuse the money,” Eric clarified, scratching his head with an awkwardly embarrassed expression. “It’s just… you’re a… doctor, aren’t you? Do you happen to have any medical books, perhaps? The fundamental ones, the kind I could actually understand. I… I wish to study a little.” His voice trailed off, diminishing in volume as if admitting to something clandestine.

Jie Ming remained silent for a beat. “Wait here,” he instructed, turning and walking towards a small door concealed behind the bookshelves.

Aware that this likely led to Jie Ming’s clandestine clinic, Eric offered no further questions.

Jie Ming stepped into the compact room, closing the door behind him. Standing at its center, he extended his hand. Under the meticulous guidance of alchemy, his spiritual power began to flow, converging at his fingertips as a manipulation force honed to a particle-level precision. Casually, he rested his hand on a nearby empty wooden box. Drawing upon ambient moisture and the various elements present within the box, he initiated a rapid synthesis of paper and ink. This process was as natural to Jie Ming as breathing; he could instinctively control the arrangement of every molecule involved.

Sheets of paper materialized beneath his palm, stacking one upon another to achieve a certain thickness. Then came the cover—a robust, deep brown hard cardboard boasting a fine texture. Following that was the binding—stitched, ensuring both sturdiness and flexibility. Finally, the text… Ink swiftly formed upon the paper, appearing line by line, page by page. The characters were sharp and the layout impeccably neat. In the blink of an eye, a complete book rested in Jie Ming’s hands.

Jie Ming turned the pages, verifying the accuracy of the content. This volume had been meticulously compiled using the medical knowledge indigenous to this world. He had expertly extracted a substantial volume of fundamental knowledge from the minds of black-market brokers and bandits, subsequently integrating it with public information gathered in Mist Capital over the preceding few days. The result was a systematic, introductory medical textbook designed for absolute beginners. Its scope encompassed human anatomy, physiology, pathology, the diagnosis and treatment of common ailments, and essential basic first-aid techniques. Jie Ming had also deliberately calibrated the content, ensuring nothing exceeded the prevailing medical standards of this realm. Given his advanced medical proficiency, this foundational material, once organized by him, was sufficient for an individual lacking formal education to self-study and acquire the essential knowledge required to become a competent physician.

He had initially considered titling the book , but upon reflection, he deemed the title potentially too discouraging for the young man and reluctantly abandoned the notion.

Clutching the book, Jie Ming emerged from the small room and presented it to Eric. “What is this?” Eric asked, accepting the volume and glancing at its cover. There was no title, only a simple, unadorned symbol: an open palm. Unlike the emblem of the Spirit Medium Association, this palm lacked an eye, displaying only five spread fingers.

“The medical book you requested,” Jie Ming stated. “I selected a basic one specifically. If you apply yourself diligently, you should be able to grasp its contents.”

Eric’s hand trembled. He instinctively rubbed his free hand hard against his clothes before carefully accepting the book once more. He opened to the first page. His fingers quivered slightly as he turned the pages with deliberate slowness, as if handling something extraordinarily precious. Eric’s eyes rapidly scanned the text and illustrations. His lips parted slightly, then closed, then parted again. “This… this is for me?” His voice held a note of bewildered disbelief.

Jie Ming offered no answer to the self-evident question. He walked back to the rocking chair, settled into it, retrieved the newspaper from the table, and turned to an unread section. Eric remained standing beneath the stark white light of the bulb, the book held in his hands as he perused its pages. His eyes grew increasingly luminous, his breathing more rapid. By the end, a faint redness had even appeared in his eyes. He wiped them with his sleeve, closed the book, and clutched it tightly to his chest. “Boss,” he began, his voice thick with emotion.

“Mhm,” Jie Ming responded.

“Thank you.”

Jie Ming turned a page of the newspaper, his focus elsewhere. “The payment for watching the shop is covered by this book.”

Eric stood momentarily stunned, then a smile spread across his face. Holding the book close, he turned towards the door, took two steps, then paused, glancing back at Jie Ming.

Jie Ming remained in his seated position, the newspaper resting in his hands, his expression unreadable as if he were perusing insignificant news.

"I'm departing now," Eric announced.

"Mm-hmm."

The wooden door softly closed.

Eric's footsteps gradually diminished along the stone pathway, eventually vanishing into the obscurity of Mist Capital's night.

Jie Ming set down the newspaper and directed his gaze towards the ceiling light fixture.

The bulb cast a steady, unwavering luminescence, devoid of any flicker or sound.

He extended a hand and tugged the pull cord.

With a distinct click, the light extinguished, and the room was bathed once more in the gentle, amber radiance of the oil lamp.

Jie Ming settled back into the rocking chair, his eyes falling closed.

The day's acquisitions, he reflected, had been substantial.

An assortment of Strange-related artifacts—the obsidian slab, fragments of a Strange, research notes, containment vessels…

Coupled with the fully contained Strange, these items provided sufficient material for his initial investigations.

Particularly noteworthy were the silver-white metal box and the Spirit Medium Association's containment techniques; a thorough understanding of these could significantly advance his research into Stranges.

Jie Ming's eyes opened, and he retrieved the metal box from his inner dimension, placing it upon his lap.

His fingertips traced the box's surface, detecting an exceedingly faint energy signature.

The fluctuation was minuscule—so subtle that individuals in this world might require specialized equipment to register it. Yet, to him, every nuance of this signature was as vividly apparent as etchings on glass.

The composition of the containment unit, the intricate design of the runes, the methodology of energy sequestration, the principles governing the suppression of a Strange's activity…

These elements would necessitate considerable time for detailed analysis.

He returned the box to his inner dimension and closed his eyes anew.

However, another matter continued to occupy his thoughts.

The individuals who had been trailing him… Among those who had marked him as a lucrative target subsequent to the auction's conclusion, one specific detail had come to his attention: one tracker was conspicuously absent.

It was the enigmatic, shadow-cloaked figure who had occupied a secluded corner during the auction's final bidding.

Jie Ming could ascertain that as he exited the exhibition center, this individual had harbored malicious intent.

That gaze was not born of mere avarice or curiosity, but harbored a distinct, palpable killing intent.

Jie Ming, having encountered such intent countless times on the battlefield, could not be mistaken.

Yet, among the gathering cohort prepared to waylay him, this figure was not present.

The hostile gazes he had perceived emanated from several other individuals—familiar faces from the auction itself, some of whom had even exchanged glances with him during the bidding process.

Their objectives were clear: his wealth, the items he had secured, and the contained Strange.

Their intentions were direct, uncomplicated, and easily deciphered.

But the shadow figure was not among them.

This individual had displayed a clearly intense lethal intent yet had not acted upon it.

Furthermore, this person had not even joined the hunting party.

Either the intention had been abandoned, or a different strategy was in play.

However, the manifested killing intent could not be dismissed as feigned. The most plausible explanation for forgoing action, upon careful consideration, was the presence of the Spirit Medium Association.

This wasn't due to witnessing their intervention, but rather an a priori knowledge that Association members would indeed step in.

Consequently, the pursuit was abandoned.

If this hypothesis held true, it indicated a profound familiarity with the Spirit Medium Association's operational procedures on the part of this shadowy individual.

Familiarity to the extent of anticipating the Association's post-auction buyer protection protocols.

Such a person could not be a mere black market dealer or a common desperado.

Jie Ming's fingers lightly tapped the armrest of the rocking chair twice.

"It appears this city is poised for some significant activity..."

Jie Ming harbored no surprise at the impending unrest within the city.

One of the factors influencing his choice of Mist Capital was the palpable intensity of its fateful fluctuations.

This was the inherent advantage of fate-related clairvoyance.

Jie Ming found no necessity to actively seek out circumstances.

His strategy was to remain quiescent in this locale, allowing destined events to unfold naturally.

The oil lamp's flame danced gently in the subtle air currents, casting his silhouette upon the textured wall.

Jie Ming reclined in the rocking chair, its motion a slow, rhythmic sway.

The aged wood emitted soft creaks that blended with the external wind, the distant echoing calls, and the faint, indistinct murmurs of Stranges emanating from countless unseen city corners, collectively weaving the unique nocturnal tapestry of Mist Capital.

He closed his eyes, a subtle, almost imperceptible smile gracing his lips.

Patience, he concluded, was the most effective strategy.