Cut the Line

The Verdant Bloomstone rattled on the table, spinning until it came to a stop.

Dean Thistle's gaze sharpened. He didn't recognize the jade immediately, but very few would. Still, his knowledge as a high-level cultivator was certainly extensive. While it took him a moment, the instant the scent hit his nose, obscure memories rolled in one after another.

Theron saw it when it appeared, that moment of agitation, of recognition, of undying greed.

For a cultivator at this level to lose his cool like this, Theron knew that he had grasped onto the perfect weakness. Almost nothing else would matter precisely because this Bloomstone had appeared.

Dean Thistle regained his calm with shocking efficiency. As he reached forward to pick up the jade, it was as though he didn't know what it was at all.

He flipped it in his palm, looking at it from all angles.