**Chapter Four: Eyes in the Shadows**
The word **"To live"** that Rhein uttered was enough. It wasn't a plea—just a simple, emotionless statement of fact, which unsettled the burly guard more than it evoked pity. With a disgusted wave, he let Rhein pass after the boy tossed two copper coins into the collection box.
The moment Rhein stepped into **Blackrock City**, he was swallowed by a new world of sounds and smells. The clanging of blacksmiths, the shouts of vendors, the scent of spices and cooked food—all mingled with the faint aura of spiritual energy emanating from the passersby. The city was built from the same black stone as its walls, giving it a harsh, imposing character. The buildings were practical and sturdy, devoid of useless ornamentation. *"A city with no room for weakness, even in its architecture,"* Rhein thought as he walked down the main street.
He wasn't a tourist admiring the sights—he was an analyst gathering data. His cold eyes scanned faces, assessing strength. Farmers from different sects, merchants in fine clothes, mercenaries with scarred faces. He noticed that everyone here carried themselves cautiously, as if each person was both predator and prey. *"A bigger jungle, with smarter beasts."*
His first goal was clear: **information**. The cheapest place to gather it was always taverns and teahouses frequented by common folk. He found a small tavern tucked into a side alley, its air thick with the smell of cheap ale and sweat. He paid for a cup of water and sat in a dark corner where he could see everyone without being noticed.
He sharpened his hearing, filtering out trivial chatter and focusing on what mattered. He heard about **the Tian family's monopoly on the blackstone mines**, the **Iron Fist Sect** that served as the city lord's enforcers, and—most importantly—the **Mission Hall**, a place where even those without affiliations could take on tasks for rewards. *"That's my way in,"* he decided instantly.
As he listened, a group of three young men entered, wearing uniforms emblazoned with a tiger emblem. They sat at a nearby table and began speaking loudly, their voices dripping with arrogance. Their leader, a muscular youth at the **Muscle Refinement stage**, boasted about humiliating a small merchant in the market.
*"He dared to look me straight in the eye!"* the youth laughed. *"I made him kneel and apologize in front of everyone! Trash like him should know their place in this city!"*
As Rhein observed this crude display of power, something strange happened. Something he had never felt before.
For the briefest moment—when the arrogant youth laughed—Rhein didn't see his **face**.
Instead, he saw his **soul**.
It wasn't a clear vision, but an **instinctive perception**. He saw the youth's spiritual aura like a flickering flame, riddled with **holes and dark gaps** left by his pride and anger. And stranger still, Rhein felt a **hidden, ravenous hunger** stirring in the depths of his own soul—a primal urge to reach into those gaps and... **devour them**.
*"What... is this?"* he wondered silently, his usually steady heart pounding. The sensation vanished as quickly as it came, and the obnoxious youth looked normal again.
Rhein shook his head, trying to dismiss it as exhaustion-induced delirium. But he couldn't. That fleeting vision, that **spiritual hunger**, felt more real than the cold stone beneath him. *"Is this an ability of my reborn soul?"* The idea of having a **twisted or unnatural soul** suddenly seemed more plausible than ever.
His perception of the world had shifted. Every person before him was no longer just a body with a certain level of strength—but a **spiritual entity with exploitable weaknesses**. He glanced around the tavern and began to see those faint **cracks in their souls** everywhere—in the nervous waiter, the anxious merchant, even the powerful guards. **All of them had flaws in their spirits.**
A terrifying smile almost curled his lips, but he suppressed it instantly. **This power—whatever it was—was his ultimate trump card.** A secret he would share with no one. The perfect weapon for a world like this.
*"Damn it... this isn't just power. This is the key to control."*
He rose from his table, leaving the untouched cup of water behind. He had gotten what he came for—and far more. Now he had a destination and a purpose. He would head to the **Mission Hall** to find a way to earn the resources needed to break through to the **Muscle Refinement stage**.
But his deeper goal had changed.
It was no longer just about climbing the ranks of power.
It was about understanding these **new eyes** that saw what others couldn't...
And understanding the **dark hunger** lurking in the depths of his soul.