“This is…” His whisper fell like a pebble into a still pond, sending small rings through the dim booth.

“The floor plan of the Gray Fortress, one of the twelve Rainbow Fortresses—how’s that for a hit?” His grin flashed like steel catching sun.

In the café’s private booth, Dongfang Chen spread a magic book like a night flower opening, revealing the Gray Fortress Aisyu model like a clockwork city.

“Amazing! This intel… it’ll fetch a fortune on the New Land!” Gong Linxun’s eyes burned like twin torches, a golden retriever spotting a bone.

“No wonder you’re a freelance reporter—you’ve got the nose.” Dongfang Chen’s thumb rose like a banner, then the book snapped shut like a fan.

“So, Mr. Gong, what’ll you trade? This much treasure for only a Red Wine Bar rumor feels thin.” His tone drifted like smoke curling over tea.

“How about these! I rate Gray Fortress as S-rank, so take your pick.” He bared his teeth like a man biting an arrow, and set down envelopes.

“This is…” Dongfang Chen frowned at the titles, the ink lines gleaming like fish scales under river light.

The envelopes read like neon in rain: Sky Voyager Adult Club invite codes, B-rank; a 40TB vault of banned action films, B-rank; Captain Situ Cheng and his mistress’s secret, A-rank.

More neon spilled like a flood: First Mate Richardon is actually gay, B-rank; Idol Xiaolu’s fifty secrets, A-rank; a famous songstress’s worn stockings, A-rank; an actress’s affair, classified S-rank.

“I’m not a tabloid hack; that junk’s useless to me. I need intel with real bite.” He slapped the stack down like a wave against a pier.

“Huh? Real… not fierce enough? I’ve got full motion videos of the affair too, all S-rank and up, so I didn’t lay them out.” His smile twitched like a frayed wire.

“What would I watch that for? If I wanted to watch, I’d just—” He froze like a deer in brush, choking back the word “myself.” “I want all-ages useful intel.”

“Since you insist, there’s only the SSS-level left.” Gong Linxun’s face cooled like ink on stone, and the room felt like dusk before rain.

“SSS-level?” The words perched on his tongue like a bird on a branch, tense and light.

“Yeah…” Gong Linxun scanned the booth like a fox in a thicket, wary of rustling leaves and stray ears.

“On the Sky Voyager, there’s a hidden storm—the most shocking secret brewing under the deck.” His voice slid like a shadow along a wall.

“Don’t disappoint me. If it’s nothing, I’m gone.” His chair creaked like bamboo bending, ready to spring.

“Of course. I bled for this one.” His swallow sounded like a pebble down a well, small and deep.

He leaned to Dongfang Chen’s ear, breath warm like tea steam. “Someone on this ship… is smuggling forbidden items.”

“Forbidden-item smuggling!” The words cracked like lightning through fog.

“Shh! Don’t say it!” He clapped a hand over Dongfang’s mouth like a lid on boiling water, then eased back like dusk fading.

“Not tax-dodging contraband—things like black fire,” he whispered, “the kind you don’t name, the kind that stains.” His gaze was a knife under silk.

A chill traced Dongfang Chen’s back like a finger of ice, a winter gust slipping through summer blinds.

In today’s polished world, the city lights feel like lighthouses, but the New Land is still a dark forest, where wolves hunt outside the firelight.

Criminals do vile work like rot under bark, dodging the law like a Murder Fiend slipping between raindrops.

To shield ordinary folk, magitech of great power is kept caged like a tiger in chains, never let loose from the heart of civilization.

Smuggling such forbidden things aboard the Sky Voyager would be a thunderclap in clear sky, a secret heavy as iron.

But there was another wind: Gong Linxun could be spinning straw into fog, a tale as thin as smoke.

“Is this… true?” His doubt hung like a lantern, wavering but bright.

“I’ve got no hard proof, but plenty of trails—once you see, you’ll smell the ash.” His eyes were steady like stones in a stream.

“I see. It’s worth SSS.” Dongfang Chen pushed over a magic book like an offering bowl, both hands joined like a bridge.

“I’ll buy this and the Red Wine Bar intel together. See if this book weighs enough; if not, I’ll add more.” His words fell like coins into a jar.

“Do you really want this? Are you crazy?” Gong Linxun’s brows knit like storm clouds over a cliff.

“This is dangerous, not kids’ play. The hand behind it is a mountain you can’t see.” His warning cut like wind through pines.

“They’ll use every trick to block an inquiry, even send killers to silence you.” The word “killers” rang like iron on iron.

“If you truly thought that, you wouldn’t tell me at all.” Dongfang Chen smiled bitterly like tea gone cold. “You’re testing my weight, aren’t you?”

“Ah, can’t fool you.” He muttered like a cricket in grass. “Intel says you’re not ordinary.”

His gaze brightened like dawn on frost, then steadied like a blade. “I admit, the proof’s not whole. I need a partner to scout.”

“If it’s confirmed, we report to the police and collect a tidal bounty.” His plan unfurled like a map on the table.

“But to earn my trust, you must trade SSS for SSS. This one can’t be paid by bulk, only by equal weight.” His terms clicked like gears.

“SSS, huh? Tempting payoff, but not a walk in the park.” Dongfang’s smile curved like a bowstring, taut and light.

“If you can obtain SSS intel, it shows you can hold a secret like a sealed jar.” His tone was calm as a lake at dawn.

“Otherwise, you’ll get played and spill it like water through a cracked cup.” His eyes warned like a bell before fire.

“Got it. What SSS do you want? I’ll give it a shot.” His resolve lifted like a kite catching wind.

“These are my needs—each defined as SSS.” He drew fresh envelopes from his inner pocket like gold leaves from autumn sleeves.

They gleamed with gold-foil edges, elegant script flowing like river reeds in black ink.

Flame-Song Princess, Sikong Qinhui—recent movements.

A map of the Rainbow Sanctuary.

Galactic Diva, Duanmu Ruchu—unreleased album.

The Sky Voyager’s master key.

Wood of the Divine Tree, and the method to open the Divine Tree Sanctuary.

And more, each request heavy as a sealed vault, secrets stacked like stones on a tomb.

“These are too hard. I can’t pull them off. Maybe just the Red Wine Bar piece first… huh?” His eyes snagged like a hook on one envelope.

“Interested in that one?” Gong Linxun’s smile stirred like wind over wheat. “It’s a personal want, unlike the others.”

“So besides a swap, I’ll add ten thousand as a bounty.” His fingers tapped the envelope like rain on a drum.

“Are you serious?” The question hung like incense smoke, thin yet lingering.

“Mm.” He nodded with a gravity like a shrine gate, regarding that envelope as if it held a star.

Dongfang Chen fought the urge to slam the table, his pulse drumming like rain on tile.

Because the envelope read, ink dark as night:

Miss Yue Liuyi’s contact number.

Her interests, hobbies, and measurements.

Swimsuit photo set.

Worn panties.

Upskirt candid. (Any one of the above will do.)

Note: Miss Yue is at least a professional-grade mage, likely elite. If you try anything shady, be ready to be reduced to ash like paper in a brazier.