In the old bookstore, the oil lamp was lit.

Jie Ming sat in the rocking chair, holding a newspaper in his hands.

His posture was exactly the same as usual: leaning back slightly, legs crossed, the newspaper covering most of his face.

Hearing the door open, he lowered the newspaper, revealing an ordinary, unremarkable face that appeared to be under thirty years old.

His gaze swept from Harding to Dirk, then back from Dirk to Harding, without any extra expression.

“You can look around as you like,” he said, his voice neither cold nor warm.

He showed no surprise, no tension, and no curiosity.

It was as if he were seeing two ordinary customers walk in.

Yet this very attitude only confirmed Harding’s inner suspicions.

After all, they had come wearing uniforms. The fact that the other party showed almost no reaction meant he had already anticipated their arrival.

Harding did not browse the bookshelves.

He walked over to the rocking chair and sat down on the stool opposite Jie Ming.

Dirk remained standing by the door, hands hanging at his sides. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes never left Jie Ming’s hands.

“We’re not here to look at books,” Harding said bluntly.

Jie Ming looked at him and said nothing.

“The improved genetic agents circulating on the black market were made by you.”

Harding’s tone was flat, as though stating a fact he had already confirmed countless times.

Jie Ming’s expression did not change in the slightest.

He neither denied nor admitted it.

He simply folded the newspaper, placed it on the table, then leaned back against the rocking chair, hands clasped over his abdomen, calmly watching Harding. “This shouldn’t violate any laws, right?” he said.

Harding was slightly surprised by his reaction and couldn’t help examining Jie Ming more closely.

Under the orange glow of the oil lamp, his expression looked exceptionally relaxed, as if he were chatting with an old friend.

Harding’s mouth twitched slightly, unsure whether to smile or frown.

“Generally speaking, unlicensed genetic improvement experiments are illegal,” he said. “But your situation is rather special.”

“What makes it special?”

“What makes it special is that the success rate of the agents you improved has indeed increased, and without any added side effects.” Harding’s tone grew more serious. “The association’s laboratory has run tests. Your improvement plan is theoretically sound. We don’t know how you achieved it, but the results speak for themselves.”

Jie Ming nodded and remained silent.

Harding paused for a few seconds, as if organizing his thoughts, then stated the purpose of their visit directly.

“The Spirit Medium Association hopes to recruit you. Full-time position, generous compensation. The association can handle all your past issues… no matter which city issued the warrant, we can clear it.”

Jie Ming’s eyebrows moved slightly, as though he were somewhat tempted by the offered conditions.

“If you don’t wish to be recruited,” Harding continued, “the association is also willing to cooperate with you. The specific format can be negotiated, but the core is simple: the association provides the resources and protection you need, and you provide your technology and research results.”

Jie Ming did not answer immediately.

He leaned back in the rocking chair, his gaze shifting away from Harding’s face to the unlit light bulb on the ceiling.

The silence lasted roughly five seconds before he looked back at Harding.

“I choose cooperation,” he said. “I need Strange materials—various grades, whether complete specimens or fragments. I also need the association’s internal research data… nothing too core, mainly the raw data on Strange characteristics that isn’t open to the public.”

Harding’s expression remained unchanged, but a flicker of satisfaction appeared in his eyes.

“Materials and data can be provided. In exchange, you will need to modify and strengthen genetic agents for the association and assist in researching certain difficult projects.”

“Agreed.”

Jie Ming’s answer was so straightforward that even Dirk was momentarily stunned.

Harding studied Jie Ming, as if checking whether he was merely humoring them.

But Jie Ming’s gaze was steady, without the slightest flicker.

“Then it’s settled.” Harding stood up, took a folded sheet of paper from an inner pocket of his uniform, and placed it on the table beside Jie Ming. “This is the association’s sample cooperation agreement. You may modify the terms. Once you’re done, hand it to Dirk. He will forward it to the association’s legal department.”

Jie Ming picked up the paper, unfolded it, scanned it quickly, then folded it again and slipped it into his pocket.

“Three days,” he said.

Harding nodded and turned toward the door.

Dirk followed behind him. At the doorway, he glanced back at Jie Ming once.

Dirk had not expected things to go this smoothly. It felt less like they had come to find Jie Ming and more like Jie Ming had been waiting for them.

The wooden door closed.

The creak of the hinges echoed in the quiet room for a few seconds before fading away.

Jie Ming remained seated in the rocking chair, no longer picking up the newspaper.

He closed his eyes briefly, the corners of his mouth curving into a faintly smug smile. “My acting really is flawless.”

As for the cooperation itself, it had long been within Jie Ming’s expectations; there was nothing to feel smug about.

Even the two men’s movements had already been known to him through the All-Purpose Eye.

Everything was under control.

Two months ago, he had arrived in this city.

In those two months, he had done several things: researched The Strange, gathered materials, modified the All-Purpose Eye, captured a Shadow Thief, and synthesized shadow Strange. But another matter had begun the very first day he arrived: laying groundwork.

Trading improved genetic agents with black market intermediaries had not been a whim, but a deliberate arrangement.

He needed to draw the attention of major powers and let the capable, resourceful figures in this city know that a researcher capable of raising the success rate of genetic agents had appeared here.

Even the exact percentage increase had been carefully calculated.

Too low and no one would notice; too high and it would arouse unnecessary wariness.

Five percent sat perfectly between “worth paying attention to” and “acceptable.”

He had originally expected the Spirit Medium Association to contact him sooner.

But the appearance of those black-robed cultists had disrupted the rhythm. The association had been busy hunting internal traitors and had set the matter aside.

Still, the current timing wasn’t bad.

He had successfully connected with a major power—and the strongest official force in this plane, no less. From today onward, his research material supply issues would cease to be a problem.

The Spirit Medium Association possessed over a century of accumulation, an intelligence network spanning the entire plane, and a systematic Strange collection and classification system. The fragments he had painstakingly scavenged from the black market and those hard-to-find complete Strange specimens were nothing more than warehouse stock to the association.

As a “cooperating researcher” recognized by the Spirit Medium Association, as long as he could deliver sufficient results, he would no longer need to worry about material supplies.

Jie Ming rose from the rocking chair, walked behind the bookshelf, and pushed open the door leading to the basement.

Silver-white light surged up from the bottom of the stairs, stretching his shadow long across the floor.

Now, he needed to prepare a set of proposed modifications to the cooperation agreement.

In addition, he needed to compile a list of research results capable of proving he was “worthy of cooperation.”